To improve the music, the local priest should
challenge musicians to pray
before they come to their place in the Church.

Liturgy and the musician: Collision or synthesis?

By Basil Cole

    Among neo-conservative groups within the Catholic Church, there are groups such as Adoremus which seek to reform the reform of the liturgy. Also, such magazines as Catholic World Report have brilliantly alerted the Church to the uncommonly bad translations of ICEL that were accepted in good faith by impatient bishops and priests after the Second Vatican Council so that the Mass could be more intelligible even if somewhat “roughly” translated or created. Similarly one also wonders if the translations of the rubrics of the Mass and the Sacraments were also compromised by untimely “paraphrases” rather than solid translations.

    Another area of exploration which needs reworking by the Conference of Bishops and other interested sub-groups is the whole area of music, the musician and the liturgy. Perhaps only a handful of bishops feel there is a problem. And, if there are problems, what can they possibly do either as a conference or as individuals? I would opine that there are grave problems and the solutions are not neat and tidy as will become evident.

    On an average Sunday throughout the liturgical year, most but certainly not all parishes have a quiet Mass, a sung “high” Mass with at least four to eight traditional hymns, and a modern “youth” Mass. Two problems intersect generally. First is the problem with the musicians of either styles, and second the choice of the music. Of the two problems, the former takes a certain precedence over the latter because even poor music can sometimes be compensated for by how the musicians deal with it. However, what is the problem with the musicians?

    Experience has shown that many musicians govern the liturgy more than the parish priest in terms of what will be sung, how often and how long. If the celebrant is the presider of the Mass, the lead singer, organist or what have you is the de facto “governor.” There is no law which says this but simply custom which has grown over the years from my own personal observation. Allied with that is the false notion that the musician(s) are there to put on a performance both before, during and sometimes as an encore after the liturgy is over. From a certain point of view, this has happened since most musicians want to keep their ministry (read job) and what better way to keep it than to make certain that people applaud them at the end of Mass, and naturally come back to listen to them the following weekend. (It also helps collections.) They have to be somewhat “hot” or they may be looking for a job elsewhere and competition is strong for “popular” and “successful” musicians. If the Mass does not become a forum for their concert and performance, then someone more intrusive will get their work. All of this, naturally, goes against what liturgical music should be, according to the traditional understanding of the liturgical musician as we shall see.

    In an important book by A. Perris, a contemporary author, neither a Catholic nor a theologian, we find a list of six rules which govern religious music of most major religions: (a) the words must be understood,1 (b) traditional melodies must be performed, (c) musical instruments must be morally and socially acceptable, (d) music must be inserted in the proper places of the ritual, (e) music must not detract from the ceremony, and (f) the artistic goals of the musicians must not override the theological dimensions of the ritual.2

    From a similar perspective concerning liturgical music, Joseph Gelineau, a liturgical composer of note, wrote during the Second Vatican Council:

The spiritual artist has two choices to make: something first which will be admired by connoisseurs for its own sake, an achievement of consummate skill, or to help his fellows rise up to the highest spiritual disposition. If the former, then it is simply a chef-d’oeuvre becoming an hors d’oeuvre. Rather it should stimulate prayer within beauty not foster beauty within prayer [emphasis mine]. The sensible signs are the purpose of penetrating more profoundly into the mystery.3

    Contemporary musicians have been faithful in terms of practice, dedication and trying to get to know what the Church wants of them. There are many organizations, magazines, workshops, conferences that for years have attempted at least to indoctrinate if not convince them of the importance of their ministry on or off the altar. We discover quite easily the following charge of the Second Vatican Council regarding the use of music and the liturgy. In the sixth chapter of the decree Sacrosanctum Concilium which is precisely on the liturgy, the Fathers of the Council declared:

112. The musical tradition of the universal Church is a treasure of inestimable value, greater even than that of any other art [emphasis mine]. The main reason for this pre-eminence is that, as a combination of sacred music and words, it forms a necessary and integral part of the solemn liturgy . . . .

Therefore sacred music is to be considered the more holy, the more closely connected it is with the liturgical actions, whether making prayer more pleasing, promoting unity of minds, or conferring greater solemnity upon the sacred rites. The Church, indeed, approves of all forms of true art which have the requisite qualities, and admits them into divine worship.4

    That the Church has asserted her musical tradition is greater than any other art should give a great sense of identity to any musician who wishes to minister within the context of the Mass. It should mean, moreover, that he know what that musical tradition is so that his newer creations would be at least somewhat in continuity with it rather than apart from it. But when he approaches the music as a concert so that he can become popular, it necessitates that the music become both “lush” in melodies, loud in volume so that the attraction becomes settled upon him rather than the mystery of the Mass or at least the words of the songs themselves. Does this not overturn what he is all about? Tradition would agree that it most certainly does.

    Other contemporary authors (non-Catholics) have explained how sacred melodies in liturgical services incline the congregations’ moods and, in a sense, virtuous disposition:

Music in religious services appears to serve several functions: at times it serves as a signal to stimulate the congregation to respond in a certain way. At other times quiet organ interludes are used to help establish a mood of reverence or tranquillity. Congregational singing serves to draw people together, while choir anthems appear to lead the worshippers to reflect on the beliefs and values of the religion and its implications for them as individuals. Special religious ceremonies are accompanied by special music. Certainly weddings, funerals, and special religious days are made more meaningful by music designed to enhance the significance of the occasion. Some of these uses of music in religious ceremony are more “persuasive” than “ceremonial,” attesting further to the importance of music in religion.5

What was the tradition?6

    If we go back to the year 1903, Pius X issued his decree Tra Le Sollecitudini, a motu proprio on the restoration of church music, for which he claimed the full force of his apostolic authority.7 He was at once trying to uphold Gregorian chant and at the same time, in a cautious manner, the possibility of modern music, while speaking out against what he considered abuses:

(1) Sacred music—an integral part of solemn liturgy—participates in its general object, which is for the glory of God and sanctification and edification of the faithful. It tends to increase the decorum and the splendor of the ecclesiastical ceremonies and since its principal office is to clothe with befitting melody the liturgical text proposed for the understanding of the faithful, its proper end is to add great efficacy to the text, in order that by means of it the faithful may be more easily moved to devotion and better disposed to receive the fruits of grace associated with the celebration of the most holy mysteries. These qualities are possessed in the highest degree by the Gregorian chant . . . .

(4) The qualities mentioned are also possessed in an excellent degree by the classic polyphony, especially the Roman school, which reached its greatest perfection in the fifteenth century owing to the works of Pierluigi da Palestrina . . . .

    It was relatively easy for the Church to say what was not suitable, but not so simple to judge clearly why certain musical forms or instruments were excluded from the liturgy, except the taste of authorities. In a certain way, one could say that since the liturgical legislation belongs to the hierarchy of the Church, she can determine what specifically and how, in a general way, it is to be performed. As Pius X said:

(16) Although the music proper to the Church is purely vocal music, music with the accompaniment of the organ is also permitted. In some special cases other instruments are allowed within due limits and proper regard. As chant is the key, organ and instruments should merely sustain and never overwhelm it.

    Likewise, Pius X was opposed to long preludes and intermezzos between the psalms (17). Pianos, bells, drums, cymbals and the like are forbidden (19). Processions outside church parishes can have a band but it may only play sacred songs (21). He gives no reasons for his positions but seems to be following a personal artistic aesthetic rather than any articulated principles. This of course made it difficult for musicians to interpret when it came to understanding what exactly makes certain pieces to be non-religious, anti-religious or suggestive of worldly dances and the like.

From Pius XII through Vatican II8

    Pius XII in his important encyclical Musicae Sacrae Disciplinae said that Gregorian chant not only is most intimately conformed to the words of the liturgy but actually “interprets” them, bringing delight to the mind through simple and plain musical modes (483). Composers should obey the laws “proper to genuine Gregorian chant” so as to keep out a false polyphonic style which could obscure the words of the liturgy or even “lower the skill and competence of the singers” (498). He does not explain how to do this, but leaves it to the craftsman of liturgical music.9

    Concerning other musical instruments, Pius went on in a positive way to claim that they are a great help to the liturgy provided nothing is “at variance” with the dignity of the place and worship. He goes on to praise the violin and other musical instruments that use the bow, since “they express the joyous and sad sentiments of the soul with an indescribable power” (499).10

    As for vernacular singing, Pius recognized that it can “deeply move the emotions and spirit and stir up pious sentiments and is powerful in raising the minds of the faithful to higher things” (503). But, early on in his encyclical, he makes the important distinction (#16) between musical composition inspired by religious themes (oratorios, cantatas, sacred dramas and the like) and popular religious singing which may accompany the liturgy and the music for the liturgy of worship. Such distinguishing characteristics are nothing new in the history of religion.11

    Likewise in the same encyclical letter, Pius XII had some profound things to say about the composer which has at least one repercussion from a moralist’s perspective. He taught that the Church is not competent to draw up laws of aesthetics or technical rules which apply to the subject of music as such; but rather, she is competent to protect sacred music against anything that might lessen its dignity which flows from the fact that it is bound up with divine worship (428). He recognizes that there is always going to be a challenge to both the composer and player in making music for a congregation consisting of cultured and simple people. Progress in liturgical music must be done in a detached manner so that faith may also progress. Here is a key paragraph in which Pius explains the problem from and for the liturgical musician’s perspective:

There is always a tension working with cultured people and simple people for the musician. Progress in art must be detached so that faith may also progress. The artist who has no religious faith and whose thoughts and way of life are far removed from God cannot lay claim to a religious art. His soul lacks the power of seeing what God’s majesty demands, what his worship requires. Works of art which have no religious inspiration may perhaps proclaim an artist of experience and of some technical ability. But they cannot express religion and faith in a way that is becoming to God’s house and its holiness and thus worthy of being admitted by the Church into her worship. For it is the Church, the guardian of the religious way of life, that must decide what is worthy or unworthy (467, trans. by Howell, S.J.).

    While Pius XII speaks from principle, the way things should normally happen, it seems that he leaves no room for the possibility of a charism which a liturgical artist may possess. Charisms in the thought of Aquinas (S.T., I-II, 111, 4-5) do not necessitate the state of sanctifying grace for them to be operative. This means that a member of the Christian faithful could have a charism of music making/playing in the liturgy without necessarily being holy. The same principle certainly is seen and applied to some of the greatest painters and sculptors of history whose way of life may have been far removed from God yet whose works now grace many of the churches in Rome and the world and lead many to the threshold and province of prayer.

    Pius next turns to another important thought for liturgical musicians:

But the artist whose faith is firm and whose way of life is worthy of a Christian has the love of God as his motive power and puts to reverent use the artistic ability he received from his Creator. And so he will try by every means in his power to express and to put before men the truths he holds and the religion he practices . . . . His artistic work is like an act of religious worship for the artist, while it moves and inspires others to profess their faith and practice their religion (468, trans. by Howell, S.J.).

What is noteworthy here is the concept that the liturgical musician must communicate something deeply allied to the act of worship. In other words, he is saying that at least two moral virtues (religion and latria or worship) and one theological virtue (faith) must somehow get into the intellectual virtue of art in the musician. This is quite original but in keeping with the whole notion of liturgical art. Moreover, it confirms very well Jacques Maritain’s thinking that everything the composer does in his music symbolizes by sound and rhythm both the very movement of realities (in this case sacred truths) perceived and the self at the same time.12

    It is also to the credit of Pius XII that, for the first time, at least for the magisterium, a clearer distinction is made between liturgical music and religious concerts (476-477). He makes the point that there are musical compositions inspired by religious themes (oratorios, cantatas, sacred dramas and the like) which are, however, not to be identified as liturgical. These very moving works may stimulate religious fervor, raise questions of conversion in the listener, fill one with a sense of God’s presence, goodness, and loving providence. But they are so powerful aesthetically and religiously that for these reasons they paradoxically are not suitable for the liturgy, not because they are irreligious, nor because they lack beauty. In a sense they are too beautiful and by enveloping their hearers with their power, charm and religiosity, they negate the ability to concentrate on the meaning of the Mass, other Sacraments, sacramentals or the Divine Office and the significance of the words. They have a legitimate place in the Church. They have such a wondrous beauty and life of their own, yet it gets in the way of the liturgy, as a transmitter of grace and truth. This is the distinction which was implicitly operative in the Church for many centuries. Perhaps, many musicians felt frustrated and sometimes rejected from Trent onwards because it seemed as if the Church was being arbitrary by not being clear as to her reasons for rejection of certain forms of music.13

Sense of awe and mystery

    Among the documents of Vatican II, The Constitution on the Liturgy, it is asserted that there are certain theological rules of liturgical music. For example, speaking about the composers of liturgical music, this Council teaches anew that liturgical music is a “ministerial function exercised by sacred music in the service of the Lord” (SC #112b). Also, of special note is the idea that the earthly liturgy continues the praise of Jesus to his Father in heaven (#83). Thus, music becomes like a beautiful vestment or a sign of this mystery of communication of Jesus with the Father through the Church. Sensible tones speak of divine things, the ineffable realities. What may be more beautiful, however, may not be more holy, since grace which comes from singing the Mass or the office is not on the same plane as the aesthetic act per se.14

    Now, how does one communicate this teaching to aggressive, “take charge” musicians? One important venue for the local priest to aid this process of reform is to challenge musicians to pray before they come to their place in the church. If makers of the icon pray and fast before lifting their brushes to a piece of wood, how much more the musician at Mass who is a mediator of contemplation and whose music is theoretically pre-eminent among all the arts. Second, it is up to the priest to see to it that musicians not sing or play every piece as if it were earth shaking. Easter music does not have to go on throughout the Mass. There are many needs within a single Eucharistic liturgy: the mood of reverence, meditative reflections, gentle communication with God as well as exultation in his presence. Even jazz musicians play certain compositions slowly and their drummers use brushes and trumpet players mute their instruments.

    In other words, the liturgical musician must learn to lower himself (perhaps disappear into the mystery he shares in), that is, point to realities that are above and beyond himself. This requires far more discipline, excellence and expertise than twanging away on a Sunday morning about the young and restless yearning for unity and fretting over their future. Reform of the liturgy must ultimately go beyond words and sounds by pointing to the ineffable. Similarly reform in one’s life means living less for self and more for God and in his presence. Perhaps the contemporary paralysis in liturgical music only mirrors in a perverse kind of prophecy the lack of conversion to the Lord going on in the Church within America.




    1 Here, he could have cited the motu proprio of Pope Pius X, Tra Le Sollecitudini, On the Restoration of Church Music, November 22, 1903 where he says at #1: “. . . the specific purpose of sacred music is to impart a more powerful efficacy of the text itself.”
    2 A. Perris, Music as Propaganda: Art to Persuade, Art to Control, Greenwood Press, Westport, CT 1985, pp. 123-155.
    3 Rev. Joseph Gelineau, S.J., Voices and Instruments in Christian Worship, trans. by Rev. Clifford Howell, S.J., Burns and Oates, London 1964, p. 36.
    4 Citations of the Second Vatican Council are taken from The Documents of Vatican II, Flannery edition, Costello Publishing, New York 1986; Sacrosanctum Concilium (The Decree on the Liturgy).
    5 Rudolf E. Radocy and J. David Boyle, Psychological Foundations of Musical Behavior, Charles C. Thomas, Springfield, IL 1988, pp. 269-270. This book has done music therapists and others an extraordinary service of synthesizing much of the findings of experiments on the effects of music and audience done in this century.
    6 This section is taken from my book, Music and Morals, Alba House, Staten Island, NY 1993, pp. 96-98 with kind permission of the publisher.
    7 Translation of Pius X through John XXIII can be found in Worship and Liturgy ed. by James S. Megivern, A Consortium Book, McGrath Publishing Company, Wilmington, NC 1978. The numbers given for Tra Le Sollecitudini refer directly to the encyclical itself. All other numbers refer to the numbers given by Megivern. Where “trans. by Howell” is indicated concerning Musicae Sacrae Disciplinae, an encyclical letter of Pius XII On Sacred Music, this is taken from the citations quoted in the work by Joseph Gelineau, Voices and Instruments in Christian Worship, trans. by Clifford Howell, S.J., Burns and Oates, London 1964.
    8 Adapted from my Music and Morals, pp. 94-98.
    9 Perhaps, in regard to beauty no one ever put it more profoundly than Hanslick when he said: “No composer can create beauty as a necessary result of his own work. It is not something wholly of sounds artistically combined” (The Beautiful in Music, trans. by Gustave Cohen, Ewer and Co., Novello 1891, p. 66). If this is true for pure music, how much more so for liturgical.
    10 To show how the Church will change her disciplinary attitudes from time to time, it is interesting to observe that in the 1700s, Pope Benedict IV had said concerning musical instrument that violin bows excite boyish gaiety rather than “a composed veneration of the sacred mysteries and souls are not touched.” But organ, tuba, tetrachord, flute, lyres and lute are permitted, if they supported voices. Tambourines, cors de classe, trumpets, flutes, harps, guitars, in general all instruments that give a theatrical swing to the music, are to be excluded. Those that are permitted must be “used exclusively to uphold the chant of the words, so that their meaning be well impressed in the minds of the listeners, and the souls of the faithful moved to the contemplation of spiritual things and urged to love God and divine things all the more.” Robert Hayburn Papal Legislation on Sacred Music, 95 A.D. to 1977, The Liturgical Press, Collegeville, MN 1979, p. 103.
    11 As Gevaert puts it: “The ancients used to view the act of musical composition from a standpoint very different from ours. Whereas in our day the composer seeks above all to be original, imagining for himself his motifs with their harmonies and their instrumentation, those Romans and Greeks who wrote melodies (and, after them, the writers of liturgical chants) normally worked on traditional themes from which they drew new chants by way of amplification. From very early times a theme of this nature was called a nomos—law, rule, or model. Just as in architecture, composition in music consisted in producing new works out of materials taken from the common domain. This mode of procedure is not limited to ancient Greeks; it can be found wherever homophonic music reached up to the concept of modal unity, to the recognition of a fundamental harmony. Analogous to the nomos of the Greeks, the såman of the Vedic priests and the råga of modern Hindus form a simple melodic scheme serving as a groundwork of an indefinite number of chants; each one of them is the common element in a distinct group of melodies.” See F. A. Gevaert, La mélodé antique dans le chant de l’Église latine (Ghent, 1895, p. 123), cited by Gelineau, Voices and Instruments, p. 123.
    12 Jacques Maritain, Art and Scholasticism, Art and Scholasticism and the Frontiers of Poetry, trans. by J. W. Evans, Scribner’s, New York 1962, p. 45. As every musician (in the broad sense) knows when composing, he feels within not only beautiful sounds but his own very being itself much as a knower in knowing being, knows something of himself.
    13 Some years ago, the Congregation for Worship renewed the same idea in a decree called Concerts in Churches (OR, Dec. 14, 1987).
    14 Sometimes, the aesthetic experience can be confused with the communication of grace because it may accompany it. In the science of spiritual theology, we discover that grace is not necessarily felt and in fact may accompany very painful feelings. Consolations may also accompany grace. The aesthetic experience is something natural which overpowers the intellect with a sense of splendor and order causing both spiritual and sensible delight. This latter is not the same as a mystical act. In some instances, it may try to replace the communication of grace by its sheer beauty. Then the words become absorbed by the tones and contemplation rests more in the music than in the sacred realities evoked by the poetry of the Bible or ecclesiastical texts.

Reverend Basil Cole, O.P., is an assistant professor of moral and spiritual theology at the Pontifical University of St. Thomas in Rome, Italy. His most recent published book is Music and Morals (Alba House, 1993). His last article in HPR appeared in May 1995.

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