Big churches

Katie and I moved to Munich a couple of weeks ago and we’re spending all of 2012 here. We’ve lived through two German weekends and have gone to two separate churches. Both have been large, cathedral-style buildings, but last night’s was incredibly impressive — St. Michael’s near the town’s Marienplatz area. It was built in the late 1500′s and has a dome second in size only to Rome’s Vatican.

While I was reading about the history of the church — the cost, the time it took to build, the fact that people were forced out of their homes to make room for construction — I realized something. Such magnificent places of worship will never again be built — at least not in ordinary circumstances. People won’t stand for their cost or the time it would take to open the doors (“We’re going to build a church here.” “Great! When will it open?” “In 15 years.” “Oh.”) And people certainly wouldn’t allow citizens to be uprooted from their homes.

And while I agree with all of those sensible things, I couldn’t help but sit back and soak in the magnificence of what I was sitting in. Since I couldn’t understand most of what was being said outside of “Alleluia” and “Amen,” I had a lot of time to absorb the beauty of the church. It made me happy that there was a time when such monstrous churches were constructed. All places of worship offer the same promise — a chance to be close to God, to celebrate the Mass (or another service for another religion) — but these gorgeous churches in Europe seem to take worship to a new level.

You can’t sit in a place like St. Michael’s and not be in awe of the power of God — especially with beautiful organ music filling the space. So while my hometown of Milwaukee, Wis., likely won’t be bulldozing any neighborhoods in the near future to make way for a new cathedral — which, again, I think is a good thing! — I will make sure to soak in the European churches while I can.

- MW

God at home

While a student at Marquette University, I became good friends with a Jesuit priest who worked at the school’s department of campus ministry – Fr. Frank Majka, S.J.

Besides being a wonderful human being, Fr. Majka is also a very good writer – particularly in the mode of personal reflections. He has a knack for packing a tremendous spiritual punch into only a few paragraphs, making it the perfect content for our tech-crazy world to digest. You can subscribe to his monthly reflection email by visiting his site. For those in need of a preview, here is his December reflection entitled, “God at home.” Enjoy.

At the end of the Spiritual Exercises, St. Ignatius invites us to consider how God dwells with us in creation and in our hearts. Here are a few thoughts about the places God is at home.

St. Ignatius asks us to reflect that God dwells in creation in the elements, plants, birds, fish, and animals. They reveal aspects of his power and creativity. So the world itself, created and blessed by God, is the first revelation of God to us.

St. Ignatius also asks us to look at ourselves. Besides existence and life, God gives us souls, intellects, and wills. Because of these we can have a personal loving relationship with God, accepting his love and offering our own in return. We can find also God in the deepest part of ourselves because God’s Spirit is there. As St. Paul tells us, we are living temples in which God dwells.

Finally, though St. Ignatius doesn’t talk about this, God is at home in the communities of those who believe in him and the hearts which search for God, no matter what their explicit religious affiliation may be. The Second Vatican Council teaches that grace exists in all genuine religious traditions, and where there is grace, there is God. God is also with those with no particular religious affiliation but who search for truth and live good lives.

Paradoxically, God is also homeless, because God identifies with people who literally have no homes: refugees, the marginalized, or those excluded from participation in society — those whom the Hebrew scriptures called “the poor and the alien.” He shares their lives and their homelessness, so that when we make a home for them, we make a new home for God, too. (Fr. Frank Majka, S.J.)

- MW

Roman Missal changes good for publishers

A friend of mine told me several months ago that the Catholic church was changing the Roman Missal in order to sell more hymnals, sheet music and other relevant texts. Of course, everyone knew that the changes were going to drive up business for the liturgical publishing industry, but for it to be THE reason for the translation, now that’s just silly.

But I was reminded of the new translation’s ability to act as a mini economic stimulus in an article over the weekend on NPR’s website called New Liturgy Reanimates Catholic Music. Alec Harris, president of GIA Publications, was interviewed for the piece and he gave an insight into how well his company is doing thanks to the new Missal. Over 150,000 hymnals have been printed, 23 Masses have been written and GIA’s business has doubled since July. And as Harris said:

“Our sales are exceeding what we did at the height of the economy. So we’re doing beautifully right now.”

I’m happy for companies like GIA (and not just because they published two of my songs – haha!) – but for WLP, OCP and all the other publishing houses that are seeing a boom as a result of the changes.

The article also touched upon my last blog entry, pondering what kind of music the new translation will churn out. They talked to Jeffrey Tucker, managing editor of Sacred Music (learn more here), who has never shied away from blasting modern, contemporary (dare I say “pop-like”) music in favor of more traditional and chant-filled pieces. Tucker believes the new translation is laying the foundation for a return to his preferred musical styling:

“I think the time has passed. The experiment is ending now, in trying to sing pop tunes at Mass,” he says. “This, what’s called fun, bright, happy, silly — I think it’s superficial music — doesn’t really fit with a serious, substantive, theologically profound missal that has this language that is so solemn, and so inspired, and so prayerful.”

I love the music that Tucker speaks of. When done properly, it speaks at the core of a person’s soul and brings the experience of the Eucharist to an entirely new level. But I think modern music can do that, too. There is no one “right” style. At the end of the day, what matters most is what speaks to the individual – not the so-called experts who champion one style over another.

(I know I said I wouldn’t talk about the new translation anymore. Forgive me! It’s too relevant NOT to talk about it.)

- MW

What kind of music will the new Mass inspire?

I don’t want to turn this blog’s focus entirely onto the Missal changes hitting the Catholic church at the end of the month. But on the heels of last week’s write-up (see below), I couldn’t help but share an article from today’s Washington Post, entitled “Mass changes have liturgists scurrying to craft new music.”

The first half of the article won’t be new to most. But the second half sparks a conversation that, while I’ve subconsciously thought about, I’ve yet to really dive into with anyone. It begs the question, “What type of new music will the Missal changes bring about?”

Will the “less rhythmic” changes to the Missal require musicians to churn out more traditional, chant-style pieces? Or will we continue to see more melodic, peppy, non-traditional settings? Or will most liturgical musicians, at the end of the day, simply stick with retrofitted settings (like the “Mass of Creation”)?

What do you think?

- MW

Let the changes begin

My mom sent me an email this morning with a link to a Huffington Post article that gives a broad overview of the changes hitting the Roman Catholic faith at the end of this month, a change that presents a daunting task for individual parishes (which we talked about last month). The article is a nice overview if you haven’t heard of the changes. For those of us who have been aware of the changes for months (or years), it still provides some entertaining quotes.

My parish, Three Holy Women in Milwaukee, Wis., is doing a brilliant thing. This past weekend they handed out a Cliff’s Notes version of the changes (with the old and new translations side-by-side) and turned the sermon into a teaching lesson. We went over each piece of new text that covers the beginning of Mass through the Liturgy of the Word. We’ll be learning the second half of the Mass next weekend.

It made for a long Mass, but it was worth it. Not only did this approach help us become more familiar with the actual changes and why the changes were made, it gave us a rare glimpse into the reasons why the Mass is structured the way it is – regardless of what translation we’re using.

For example, the first change we talked about — and one that will probably take the most getting used to — is the one referenced at the beginning of the Huffington Post article.

Current:
Presider: “The Lord be with you.”
People: “And also with you.”

New:
Presider: “The Lord be with you.”
People: “And with your spirit.”

When explaining the reasons behind the change, our priest, Fr. Brian, also explained the reason why we have this exchange at the beginning of Mass at all. The people in the pews are just as much a part of the Sacrament of the Eucharist as the priest on the altar. His invitation for the Lord to be with us isn’t just a religious “hello.” It’s a call to action. And our response to him is the same, except the proper translation (the new version) references the Holy Spirit, which was bestowed upon the priest at the time of his ordination. It’s a minor change that allows us to more properly recognize the necessity of the Holy Spirit in what’s taking place on the altar.

Now, let me say, I was one of the many who responded to the news of the pending new translation with, “What? We’re doing what? Why? Why would they do that?” As a musician, I immediately thought of the headache the new text would cause on that end. (“Does this mean no more Mass of Light Gloria??”) And part of me still wonders whether or not this was the best decision to make given all of the parties involved. But on the heels of Sunday’s mini lecture at my church, I am now much more open to the possible good that will come out of this change.

Fr. Brian made a great analogy that helped cement my newfound hope in the new translation. He compared our current approach to the Mass (at times) to that of a high school student trying to memorize parts of the Constitution. In order to pull off the entire assignment from memory, the student likely resorts to rhythmic patters and speed. If she can get into the right cadence and make sure she doesn’t leave too many gaps, she’ll pull it off. If she goes too slow, she might forget what comes next. Fr. Brian’s point was that we sometimes do this with our existing prayers. We have said them for so long that we almost don’t think about what we’re saying. Or they’ve become so methodical that if we were asked to recite them on our own and slowly, would we be able to do it without forgetting something?

It was a fantastic point. He told us that he can recite the Mass from memory because he’s been preaching the text for 20 years. But beginning later this month he will have to reference the Missal when preaching. This global change will cause him (and other priests) to put more focus into the words they are saying – and we will do the same from the pews. This somewhat burdensome, laborious process might just make us more aware of what we (as Roman Catholics) believe.

On a side note, as a musician, I’ve also warmed up the change because of the opportunity it presents people like me to try and write our generation’s version of the “Mass of Creation,” quite possibly the most popular musical setting of the Mass in the United States. I’m already hard at work at it! But that’s a blog entry for down the road. (Though if you are looking for new music that fits the new translation, we have a several collections to browse on Holy Measures.)

- MW

60 years of service

I think it’s a generational thing, but I know I’m not the type of person who can stay in one job for more than 5 to 7 years. It amazes me when I hear of someone putting 20 or 30 years into the same organization.

So I was really taken aback when I read about Alden Gilchrist, the director of music at Calvary Presbyterian Church in San Francisco who is celebrating 60 years on the job.

60 years! I hope to simply live 60 years. He began his career in 1951 as a graduate assistant, agreeing to a not-so-lucrative $55 per month. (Wow.)

As you would expect of any liturgical music director who works in the field for that long, Alden is also a composer. In the mid-80′s, he committed himself to writing a new piece for every Sunday Mass, just like Bach used to do. That’s no small task – especially when you do it for 25+ years.

And I love his comment that he’s a curator for the second greatest body of holy writ there is. Holy scripture first; religious music second. I’ll buy that.

I also love the fact that he has the word “christ” is in his last name … Seems like his career was predestined, no?

I tip my hat to you, Alden. May the next 60 years be as fulfilling as the first!

Let them sing

I was playing at Mass yesterday and we did David Haas’s well-known “We Are Called” as our closing hymn. I couldn’t help but smile as I heard the congregation belting out each of the three verses – almost getting louder with each one. And who can blame them? It’s a great, catchy, upbeat song. While it would definitely sit atop any list of overplayed liturgical songs, that’s not necessarily a bad thing.

If we stop to think about why the song is popular, we would likely reason that it’s because it’s easy to learn/sing/play, it’s driven by a good melody, and the text fits several seasons. It’s not a complicated formula. There are handfuls of these types of songs that I’m familiar with from Catholic services — “Gather Us In,” “One Bread, One Body,” “Here I Am, Lord” and “Shepherd Me, O God,” just to name a few — that seem to be “go to” songs when we liturgical musicians are in need of something to fill a void and nothing else is coming to mind.

But despite the frequency with which they’re used, the people in the pews seem to sing the loudest for them. If they haven’t grown tired of them, why should we? A primary goal we have as musicians is to consistently present the congregation with singable worship music. Yes, yes – there is a time for choral pieces and instrumentals. But the bulk of what we put out there has to be singable.

Let them sing!

Digital theft

The concept of illegally obtaining audio of my favorite songs is something I learned in grade school when I (along with all of my friends) would create mixed tapes. Sometimes we took the audio from tapes we had purchased. Other times we just recorded what we could straight from the radio.

Then Napster’s meteoric rise and fall came into play when I was in college in the early 2000′s. It became easier and easier to share music with others.

Litigation against Napster turned the popularity of music piracy into a national issue. And the arrival of the iPod and iTunes made it easier to purchase music that we all wanted “instantly.”

And today, new streaming services like Spotify are actually helping to dramatically decrease the number of songs that are illegally downloaded.

I kept all of this in mind while reading a post on The Hill by Elwyn Raymer, President and CEO of the Church Music Publishers Association Action Fund. In the write-up, Elwyn provides several examples of religious music publishers – particularly Christian music publishers – that have lost sales and, ultimately, profits, as a result of digital theft. He makes the clear case of digital theft’s economic implications (lost jobs, lost business, etc.) and takes it a step further by pointing out the cultural and spiritual impact of a shaken religious music industry.

After reading the article twice, I was struck by two things.

First, I wonder how many of the lost sales that Elwyn writes about are the direct result of piracy or the aftermath of a society that, inspired by the immediacy that piracy offered in the mid 2000′s, has turned to streaming and other legal ways to get their music fix. Individuals simply don’t consume audio the same way that they used to. Perhaps the reality is that Napster and other file-sharing services, combined with digital media player technology, created a music revolution that has – like any industrial revolution – resulted in forever lost profits for some part of the industry.

I would imagine that the invention of the television hurt the radio. We know the invention of the DVD player heard VHS companies. And look at how the printing industry struggles to keep up with a world that is increasingly online. The same thing is happening to the music industry. For example, think of how much revenue has been lost now that consumers can purchase just one or two songs from an album without having to buy the whole thing?

Maybe the state of lost sales for several publishing companies is less about piracy issues that need to be addressed and more of a larger industrial shift that will never change. And if that is the case, the challenge for publishing companies is to identify new sources of revenue.

The other thing that struck me in the article was the lack of any mention of sheet music sales. In addition to audio, these publishing companies also sell sheet music (lead sheets and chord books) – both in print and digital format. Has piracy affected those sales, too? With so many liturgical musicians needing only an audio file and chord charts (easily found online for free) to perform the song at a religious service or other event, are fewer people buying sheet music? And for sheet music that’s sold online, are people stealing those via screen grabs and other methods to “capture” what they see on the screen?

Elwyn concludes his post by addressing pending two pieces of litigation that are on the table in Washington: the PROTECT-IP Act in the Senate and the Stop Online Piracy Act in the House. I have yet to read up on either of these efforts (though I promise to do so), so I can’t comment much further. But I would hope that sheet music is well represented.

These are interesting times we live in. Technology is constantly changing the way we live our lives. Unfortunately, it’s not equally kind to all professionals. Musicians who make a living with their craft of music are finding revenue streams disappear. And to Elwyn’s point, the mainstream artists seem to have more options (concert sales, nice contracts, endorsements, etc), whereas many who make a living writing Christian songs are struggling with the question, “Now what?”

Sounds of Reconciliation

The Chronicle of Higher Education has an interesting story online today about an American Fulbright scholar, Kyle Inman, who is living in Northern Ireland to study music that bridges the Roman Catholic and Protestant cultures.

I was struck by the deep historical divide between the two religious groups and how segregation continues to this day. As a practicing Catholic, I have several friends who are Protestant – not to mention others from non-Christian faiths. A person’s particular religious beliefs have never impacted the way I view them – and I would venture to guess that this is true for many of us in America. Because our country is relatively “young” (less than 250 years old) and founded on religious freedom, we just don’t have that historical base to relate to.

But what struck me even more was the idea that music could emerge as something to bridge these two cultures together. The article mentions one group – Different Drums – who intentionally uses two instruments that represent the two sides: the lambeg drum and the bodhuran drum. (Get it? “Different drums.”)

But aside from this one example, it sounds like there’s much work to be done. Kyle’s hopes are high and her mission is clear:

“There isn’t enough of a conscious effort to bring the two communities together through music,” she says. “That’s why the groups I’m looking at stand out, and why I feel it is important they are brought to the attention of a wider audience.”

It should come as no surprise to readers of this blog that music is a powerful tool. So on the heels of a post that spoke of music’s ability to strengthen a relationship between God and an individual, here we have a different example of its ability (certainly its potential) to strengthen a relationship between groups of people.

The music I play and hear at church every Sunday is indeed a melting pot of various religious cultures. Whether we’re singing a Lutheran hymn, a Catholic Mass, an African chant, an Irish blessing or a piece of music with Jewish roots, the reality of a mixed bag is obvious. And this type of integration not only promotes religious tolerance and acceptance, it promotes religious awareness, exposing both ministers and listeners alike to sounds from across the world and throughout history.

See. Music really is powerful.

The power of melodies

When I was in college at Marquette University, I took a Theology class called “The Sacraments.” For my term paper, I wrote about liturgical music and how I believed it to have sacramental qualities. I recall writing a really passionate piece about the power of music – how it helps people pray and bring themselves closer to God. As it turns out, I was a little too passionate with my prose. The Jesuit priest teaching the class gave me a “C” because, in my attempt to highlight the sacramental qualities of music, I came off as trying to turn singing an opening hymn into the eighth sacrament of the Catholic Church. That didn’t go over well.

But the point is still valid …

That’s why I loved reading a post by Rev. Kemery Baldwin earlier today called Holy Music Matters. Much of the article talks about people’s different preferences when it comes to liturgical music and how, ultimately, what matters is that a song be well written and theologically sound (to which she makes the valid point that, no matter how different religious song styles may be, they’re still rooted in the same scripture).

But what made me smile, bookmark the article and write this post was this line near the bottom of the write-up:

I like to sing, but if I don’t catch on by the third power-point screen or the second verse in the hymnal, I’m done. Doesn’t matter if it is an old hymn or a new song; if I can not hear the melody, or know when to repeat a praise chorus, I will sit down. Real hymns are the songs I can sing to worship God. Old, new, with guitar, drums or pipe organ, really makes no difference to me. I want to sing with joy.

I couldn’t agree more with Rev. Kemery. It’s the melody that matters the most. If the people in the pews can’t hear something that’s going to tug at their heart strings – something that’s going to take them to a place where they can reconnect or remember or reflect, then what’s the point? If you’re doing a song other than a meditation piece that the congregation can’t sing along to, are you really ministering to them? Too often I’ve been at Mass only to hear a complicated piece thrown in as a gathering song that no one’s able to sing along to. Again, what’s the point?

To paraphrase Rev. Kemery, give me a song that has a strong melody, that’s easy enough for me to sing along to, and that makes my heart smile. (If it gives me goosebumps, then that’s even better!)

Save the complicated stuff for meditation or annual concerts. If you want to get people to sing along, make it easy for them.

Remember, ministering and performing are two very different things, and there’s a time and place for both. Just make sure you’re doing the right one on Sunday mornings.