Philadelphia Chapter

We were saddened to learn of the death on Monday of Domenico Cardinal Bartolucci, Director Emeritus of the Sistine Chapel Choir, who was for many years a strenuous defender of the great Catholic tradition of sacred music. Earlier this year, His Eminence granted a written interview to Mr. Wilfrid Jones, who is studying music at New College, Oxford. This interview was conducted as part of Mr. Jones’ research on a dissertation on the effects of the Second Vatican Council on music in St Peter’s Basilica. We are extremely grateful for his permission to publish this interview, and wish thereby also to honor Cardinal Bartolucci’s legacy. Although it is a bit long, we are certain that our readers will find it extremely interesting from beginning to end. The interview was conducted mostly in Italian, and the original version is published simultaneously on the Italian blog Messa in Latino.

A Research Interview with Domenico Cardinal Bartolucci from June 2013 – Conducted by Wilfrid Jones, Student reading music at New College, Oxford

What was the intention of the Fathers of the Second Vatican Council? How did they change liturgical music?

The Fathers of the Council had no intention of changing the liturgy, and therefore also (did not intend to change) sacred music in its relationship to it, and in its form, which indeed were both confirmed in the post-Conciliar period. Pope Pius XII had begun the reform of Holy Week, but in Mediator Dei had also expressed clear indications and laid out the principles for an authentic understanding of the liturgy, which were unfortunately disregarded later on. Also, knowing John XXIII, I am sure he would not have permitted all the changes which have extremely impoverished the liturgical life of the Church. I personally recall that the Sistine Choir sang very often during the assemblies of the Fathers, and the applause and approval which it received were the most profound testimony of how we were appreciated for our role in the liturgy.

Speaking of music, how was the Council’s request for “participatio actuosa” (active participation) put into practice?

“Participatio actuosa” was unfortunately misunderstood. The objective which they were trying to reach with this expression was authentic understanding (by the laity), an idea which moreover was not born at the Council. It was absolutely not the exterior objective of involving people in doing something within the celebration, and feeling themselves thereby to be more the protagonists, reading, singing, or doing who knows what. Unfortunately, however, this (latter) distorted, “pragmatic” understanding prevailed, supported also by many incompetent liturgists who were the first to misunderstand it, and in fact were the first to suggest it. Clear and definitive words in this regard are those set forth by then-Cardinal Ratzinger in his book Introduction to the Spirit of the Liturgy, which I fully agree with, and which recall us to the authentic sense of the participation of the faithful in the action of God, who makes Himself present in the liturgy by means of His word, and above all by means of His Body and Blood. This is the action in which the faithful are called to participate actively, uniting themselves to the celebration of the mystery.

According to you, it is correct to say that paragraph 121 (see below) of Sacrosanctum Concilium should be understood in the context of paragraph 14?

I would say that one is dealing with two different contexts. Paragraph 14 emphasizes the liturgical formation of the clergy and the faithful, which is necessary to participate in the liturgy and the Christian life with awareness, following the responsibilities taken on at baptism. The objective of this formation is essential above all for the clergy, but there are still many deficiencies (in it). It is well known that the documents of the Magisterium and not always absorbed and followed. For example, there are many problems with the education which candidates for the priesthood receive in the seminaries.

Paragraph 121 makes a specific exhortation to musicians, one which should be received and shared. In regard to the involvement of the whole assembly of the faithful, necessary clarifications must be made, and above all, it must not be understood as the criterion by which one chooses which music is suitable for the liturgy or not. There are indeed moments in which the whole people sings together, such as the Marian antiphons, and some well-known Gregorian chants. But on the other hand, there are moments in which the singing should be reserved for the Scholas, in order to reach a level of art, of solemnity and of beauty appropriate to the rite which is being celebrated. This is most certainly not to the detriment of the congregation, but rather helps it in its spiritual edification, and emphasizes the gift (of music) which the Lord has given to some, and which is used for the good of all. I myself have written many pieces of music in Italian for use in parishes, and I have always loved the singing of the people, but some contexts, like that of the Papal liturgy, where the Sistine Choir is present, should exalt and give glory to God by means of great art.

Can one understand paragraph 114 of Sacrosanctum Concilium in such a way as to not lose the sense of “participatio actuosa” ?

Paragraph 114 make a clear exhortation to increase the patrimony of sacred music, and promote the scholae cantorum, above all in the contexts to which I was referring earlier. In practice, however, after the Council there was revealed a certain disdain for the scholae cantorum, which the Council itself wished to maintain and promote. A consistent reading of the document on the liturgy makes it clear that in practice, what was done did not correspond to the Fathers’ wishes. There was a great banalization of our worship, which was encouraged by a pragmatic and incomplete manner of interpretation (of Sacrosanctum Concilium).

In the implementation of Sacrosanctum Concilium’s precepts on music, what went well, and what went badly?

[His Eminence declined to answer this question.]

Could you talk about the music at Papal liturgies in St Peter’s Basilica before the Second Vatican Council?

Before the Council, music had a fundamental role in the liturgical celebrations, and above all in the ceremonies where the Pope presided. The Sistine Choir performed the great repertoire of Gregorian chant and polyphony, handed down through the ages, with the masses of Palestrina at the center (of the repertoire). The place of music in the ancient liturgy was very great, and our role was not to amuse the faithful, but a true liturgical ministry. We were often accused of wanting to do concerts during the celebrations, but I do not believe that those who share this position have understood the role of sacred music in the liturgy.

What impact did the Council and the Constitution Sacrosanctum Consilium have on music at Papal liturgies?

In reality, neither the Council nor the Constitution on the liturgy had any practical effect on sacred music. If the ideas of the Fathers and of Sacrosanctum Concilium had really been followed, the results would have been very different, and very much in line with the tradition. In reality, I would say that all of the changes that were produced, and which in my judgment are negative, were determined by the work of application of the documents of the Council. This was done by a commission (the Consilium ad exsequendam Constitutionem de sacra Liturgia) which was not up to its role, and on which there worked people who wanted to impose their own ideas, distancing themselves from the official ideas of the documents. The way in which this commission worked has been analyzed in a very accurate study by Nicola Giampietro, O.F.M. Cap., based on the diaries of Cardinal Ferdinando Antonelli, which analyzed the developments of the liturgical reform from 1948 to 1970. This scholarly contribution has put a lot of light on the commissions actions, on the poor formation of its members, and the lack of professionalism with which they went about dismantling the liturgical patrimony which the Church had always jealously guarded in its liturgical life. As the cardinal observed in his personal notes: “liturgical law, which until the Council was sacred, for many no longer exists. Everyone considers himself authorized to do what he likes, and many of the young do exactly that. […] On the Consilium there are few bishops who have any particular competence in liturgy, very few who are real theologians. The most acute deficiency in the whole Consilium is that of the theologians. […] We are in the reign of confusion. I regret this, because the consequences will be sad.”

During the Council, was there any pressure to modify the Papal liturgies?

No, I would not say that during the Council’s work, there was any pressure to modify the Papal liturgies. Certainly, it would have been fine if certain aesthetic excesses had dropped out of use. This is part of the natural process of change that moves with the tastes and sensibilities of each era, but no one thought to change the liturgies, or banalize them, as was later imposed.

Once the Council was finished, what impact did the implementation of Sacrosanctum Consilium have on Papal liturgies from 1964 to 1997?

After the Council, and after the various experiments which unfortunately were permitted (as if the Church’s liturgy were something to experiment with, or make up on a drawing-board), a liturgy was produced which was substantially new. The consequences for sacred music were devastating. Sacrosanctum Concilium in paragraph 112 affirms that the musical tradition of the Church forms a patrimony of inestimable value, which exceeds all other expressions of art, especially because sacred music, united to the word, is a necessary and integral part of the solemn liturgy. Can you tell me where this “patrimony of inestimable value” is to be found today? The great polyphonic masses, the noble Gregorian chant: all put in the archives. Were these the intentions of the Council? Absolutely not. I myself had to struggle intensely to maintain something in the Papal liturgies, but with few results: an occasion motet, and every once in a while a gracious concession to do a Gloria in polyphony. I remember that one of the first requests made to me was to write music in Italian… Then, Monsignor (Virgilio) Noè (Papal master of ceremonies from 1970-1982) wanted the masses in alternating Gregorian chant, in place of those in polyphony. After a while, those were also gotten rid of, so that we could always sing the Missa de angelis in Gregorian chant, taking turns with a congregation which in reality was a group of nuns and priests… I was obliged to do this in my role as director of the Sistine Choir. I was able to save our great repertoire only in concert performances.

Did Pope Paul VI have anything to do with music?

Paul VI was tone-deaf, and not a great connoisseur of sacred music. One time, when he was still a cardinal, we sang the Missa Papae Marcelli in Saint Peter’s. After the celebration, at which he himself had presided, we met, and he complimented me heartily on the very beautiful performance which he had enjoyed so much. Then he said to me: “Maestro, why don’t you also give us some pastoral music!” I confess that I was quite chilled by what he said, and I replied: “Your Eminence, did you not just tell me that you enjoyed this very beautiful performance of one of Palestrina’s masterpieces?” Ideas of this sort about sacred music continued to be spread about, and Paul VI realized too late what had happened.

From 1969 to (early) 1976, Fr. (Annibale) Bugnini was the secretary of the congregation for Divine Worship. What impact did Fr. Bugnini have directly on your work as director of the Sistina?

Bugnini and I were on two different, and I would even say opposed, wavelengths, and we had a number of clashes. Much of the responsibility for what happened to the liturgy after the Council is his, and he often worked to promote his personal ideas. The great confidence the Pope placed in him certainly played to his favor, even though at the end Paul VI nominated him pro-nuncio to Iran….

Did this change under Mgr. Noé?

Mons. Noè was more of a moderate, but I remember that he also would accompany the Pope to the parishes, where he would celebrate Mass in Italian, singing the Gregorian melodies in the vernacular: a ridiculous and unworthy thing. As I said before, for the Papal liturgies, he asked me for Masses to be sung in alternation, (i.e., between the choir and the congregation) but even those did not last long. Once, he wanted us to sing Requiem aeternam, and I pointed out that even that had been abolished. You can imagine how badly things were compromised at that point.

Could you tell me about your interactions and involvement with the Consilium?

As Master of the Pontifical Choir, I was not included among the members of the Consilium; the same is true of Mons. Lavinio Virgili, who was director of the Choir of Saint John in the Lateran. We musicians were looked on with suspicion by the reformers. They thought us anchored in the past, and of course, if we had been present, they would not have had such an easy time of their work. My appointment was made when it was all already over, and at that point I wanted to refuse, but people convinced me to accept so as not to create any bad feelings. In the end, the few indications which I gave were not taken into consideration. For example, together with the head of the Pontifical Institute for Sacred Music, Mons. (Higini) Anglès, we tried to save at least the Sunday Mass in the basilicas, cathedrals and monasteries iuxta veterem consuetudinem. (“according to the ancient custom”). But this article, which seemed as if it had been accepted, (and indeed, Mons. Anglès wanted to thank the Pope for it), disappeared from the Instructio (de Musica Sacra, 5 March 1967).

(translation by Gregory DiPippo)

Sacrosanctum Concilium 121: Composers, filled with the Christian spirit, should feel that their vocation is to cultivate sacred music and increase its store of treasures. Let them produce compositions which have the qualities proper to genuine sacred music, not confining themselves to works which can be sung only by large choirs, but providing also for the needs of small choirs and for the active participation of the entire assembly of the faithful. The texts intended to be sung must always be in conformity with Catholic doctrine; indeed they should be drawn chiefly from holy scripture and from liturgical sources.

From Michael Miller, Advisory Council

Dear devotees of the Traditional Latin Mass,

A priest-friend who works in inner-city San Diego celebrates the TLM daily and has an open calendar for Mass intentions.

If you would like to have a Traditional Latin Mass said for a special intention without a long waiting list, write to:

Fr. Sergius-Maria Dimartini
Apostolic Monastics
1055 – 22nd St.
San Diego, CA 92102-1905

Write the check to “Apostolic Monastics”, noting only the word “donation” on the memo line. On a separate paper (not the check) write the intention and the donor’s name.
Current rates are: 1 Mass = $20; 9 consecutive Novena Masses = $150. Thirty consecutive Gregorian Masses can also be arranged.

Thank you for your support of the TLM.

In Christo,
Michael J. Miller

From the Chant Cafe, Posted by Kathleen Pluth

All Souls Day Morning of Recollection – Juventutem DC

Given that this morning of recollection has been sponsored by the newly-formed chapter of Juventutem DC, I thought it might be appropriate to offer a few thoughts on the name ‘Juventutem’ and its obvious reference to Psalm 42 which is to be found in the prayers at the foot of the altar that occur in the Traditional Latin Mass. In most Masses in the Extraordinary Form, Psalm 42 is said in its entirety. In almost all Masses at least verse 4 of this psalm is said. In Sung Masses, it is not heard as the prayers at the foot of the altar coincide with the singing of the introit and the kyrie. In Masses during Passiontide and in Requiem Masses (such as this morning’s Requiem Mass for All Souls), the psalm is omitted but the antiphon retained.

Although commentators often disagree in their explanation of the origins of certain features of the liturgy, it would seem that historically, this penitential act has occupied its place at the beginning of Mass, at the foot of the altar, from the time when the Roman liturgy was spreading into Gall-Frankish territory. The psalm did not gain an entrance into many rites of Mass, however, even through the later Middle Ages and for a considerable time after. In the liturgies of religious orders such as the Carthusians and Dominicans Psalm 42 did not appear in their rite of Mass when these orders were established in the 13th century. Even when it was inserted, only a single verse was recited, Introibo ad altare Dei. Even when the psalm itself is omitted, the antiphon is said once.

This wonderful psalm expresses perfectly the sentiment which should animate the priest as he approaches the altar. It expresses a very great truth – the priest is powerfully attracted to the altar. A priest belongs at the altar and there is no place where he is more conscious of the reality of his priesthood than when he stands at the altar. The altar of God, however, is an awesome and holy place, yet there the priest stands, an unworthy servant of the Most High. He might call to mind the words of St. John Chrysostom: ‘When the priest calls upon the Holy Ghost and offers the tremendous Sacrifice: tell me in what rank should we place him? What purity shall we require of him, what reverence?’”

As a priest approaches the altar for the celebration of Holy Mass, he longs to ascend there to perform his sacred duty, to draw near to the Lord and to be united to Him. St John Chrysostom continues: “By the words iuventutem meam the priest may indeed, also, acknowledge that from his early days God has been his delight and bestowed on him a thousand joys.”

These are very beautiful thoughts but this psalm clearly expresses mixed emotions and demonstrates something of the divided heart that is so much a part of our human condition. It contains a sort of lament but one which includes a vow to give thanks in the Temple. Even when we are anxious and things are not going as we planned, we can purpose to praise God despite the way we feel. This primacy of will over emotions is one of the early lessons of the Mass and an essential one for anyone who wants to find happiness in the Church. It runs so very counter to all of the counsels of this age that suggest that our feelings are the greatest guide to reality. In truth, they are the least reliable guide and should often be mistrusted or even ignored.

What is so magnificent about Psalm 42 is that it is a pure expression of yearning for God with no expectation of reward or any other benefit – we seek God for the good which He is in Himself and not ultimately for personal gain. This approach to the altar which begins every Mass in many ways sums up all that follows. We should note that the approach to the altar is always one of happiness and joy, even if the Mass is celebrated in circumstances that are less than joyful or even downright sad. Perhaps it is for this reason that the Syrians call the whole Mass simply Kurobho, “approach.”

St. Ambrose relates the meaning of this psalm to those who have just been baptized: “The cleansed people, rich with these adornments, hastens to the altar of Christ, saying: I will go to the altar of God, to God who makes glad my youth; for having laid aside the slough of ancient error, renewed with an eagle’s youth, it hastens to approach that heavenly feast. It comes, and seeing the holy altar arranged, cries out: You have prepared a table in my sight.”

Most of us approach the altar with our baptism in the relatively distant past but this essential aspect of our Christian identity is of major importance every time we come to Mass. The traditional designation of the ‘Mass of the Catechumens’ and the ‘Mass of the Faithful’ reminds us of what a tremendous privilege it is as those who are baptized to be permitted to remain for the whole accomplishment of the offering of the Sacrifice and even more to approach the altar for the reception of Holy Communion.

These prayers “at the foot of the altar,” as Josef Jungmann explains in his momumental writings on the history of the development of the Mass, only existed after the year 1000. This is because before the eleventh century, as a rule, there were no steps up to the altar—not even a predella or platform. Yet by the ninth century, these prayers had been inserted:“On the way to the altar, Psalm 42 was spoken in common, and upon arrival at the altar, two orations were added in conclusion, one of which is our Aufer a nobis. In witnesses to this particular arrangement of the entry (of the priest at Mass), there are found in addition various apologiae, forerunners of our Confiteor, included in a variety of ways and in an assortment of forms. They are either added at the beginning or inserted somewhere in the middle or subjoined at the end.

This arrangement quickly took the lead over other plans of a similar kind…Very seldom was there any clear transfer of the psalm to the altar steps. Often this transfer occurred because the chasuble was put on the altar, as was the custom especially at private Mass. In other cases the rubric was left indefinite. This diversity of practice corresponded to the variety in spatial arrangements. Often the distance from sacristy to altar was very short. In order not to prevent the psalm’s being said with proper care and to lend it greater importance, it was not begun until the steps were reached. This must have been the origin of the arrangement now found in the Missal of Pius V.”

Although we cannot be confident about the origins of this Psalm and its place in the liturgy of the Mass, we do have the psalm itself which is worthy of careful attention and rewards a close reading. I would like briefly to walk through this psalm with you and offer a little commentary on those phrases which I have high-lighted in your printed hand-outs:

– Judge me, O God
We ask a serious thing when we ask God to judge us because we ask Him to search our heart and discern our truest motives which alone give meaning to our actions. So often we judge others by their actions in the hope that they will judge us by our intentions. Only God has all the information necessary to make such judgments. For this reason, He, and He alone is the judge of all.

– distinguish my cause from the nation that is not holy
We always want it to be clear that we are not just like everyone else but we forget that for God, it is as if we are the only one who exists – He is faithful even when we are faithless!

– deliver me from the unjust
We need God to help and rescue us, particularly form those who will bring about our ruination. Bad company, occasions of sin etc.

– For Thou art, God, my strength
A profession of faith – we need to make them often in the course of the day so that the muscle of faith may be exercised and become strong.

– why do I go sorrowful?
It is easy to be depressed but we have to minister to our emotions speaking faith to our feelings.

– Send forth Thy light and Thy truth
Only God can show us the way, the right path, without His light, we are really lost.

– they have conducted me and brought me unto Thy holy hill
This is where God brings me- to the holy hill which is the altar, the Mass: the one place where we can make sense of all of this confusion and chaos.

– I will go in to the altar of God
This is the future tense of intention and purpose – I have to keep coming here, I have to keep ascending this holy hill – it is the only answer.

– to God Who giveth joy to my youth
God is the only reliable source of happiness, the only true satisfaction for any human heart. So many marriages, relationships and friendships fail because people do not understand that nobody can ultimately satisfy us, only God.

– I will give praise upon the harp
I have to keep singing and not be deterred even when the opposition or discouragement, either from within myself or from others, is very considerable.

– Hope in God
The fundamental virtue of the Christian life – the ability to look beyond our present difficulties and to see a time when all will be well. It is the virtue most obviously demonstrated by the Holy Souls for whom we pray today.

I want to conclude these brief thoughts with a citation from the writings of Pope Benedict XVI, his very particular commentary on a verse from this psalm with he mentions in concluding a sermon he preached on Sexagesima Sunday in 1962 at the first Mass of a newly ordained priest. It is of particularly personal significance for me as I chose to include this citation in the printed program for my first offering of the Traditional Latin Mass, the day after my ordination, twenty-there years ago. It says, far better than I could ever say, what lies at the heart of this word of Scripture:

“and I will come to the altar of God, the God of my joy” (Ps.42:4)

Pope Benedict writes:
We want to ask God that he will always let something of the splendour of this joy, if it is is necessary, fall on our life; that he may give the radiance of this joy ever more deeply and purely to this priest who today for the first time comes before the altar of God; that he will still continually shine upon him when he does so for the last time, when he comes before the altar of eternity in which God shall be the joy of our eternal life, our never-ending youth. Amen.

by TRENT BEATTIE, in the National Catholic Register

Music has always been a part of Nicholas Lemme’s life. In his youth, he saw it as an expression of who he was. As his overall perspective on life changed, so did the music he identified with. It seemed only natural that a new outlook would be accompanied by a new art form, somewhat like a change of wardrobe being the outgrowth of a new lease on life.

Yet it has only been in the past four years that Lemme has come to see music not only as being expressive of his own beliefs, but also as influential in shaping, retaining and expanding those beliefs. Currently a member of the faculty at the Priestly Fraternity of St. Peter’s Our Lady of Guadalupe Seminary in Denton, Neb., he now holds a conception of music that transcends mere aesthetic beauty and includes an almost unparalleled influence in daily life.

Nicholas Lemme recounted his story to Register correspondent Trent Beattie as the new school year was getting under way.

You didn’t grow up as a devout Catholic, did you?

I attended public schools and went to CCD [Confraternity of Christian Doctrine] classes on Sundays. That wasn’t really enough of a foundation for me to understand Church teaching. I basically lived as the rest of the culture lived — a very worldly existence focused on sense experience, to the exclusion of higher and nobler things.

By the time I enrolled in St. Thomas More High School in Rapid City, S.D., I was already headed down the wrong path. I was immersed in the grunge scene of the 1990s. Identifying with that music by playing in a garage band meant identifying with its accompanying hedonism.

Because the noisy, angst-filled grunge music was, in a way, a representation of my soul at the time, the fact that there were some good religion teachers in high school didn’t make a difference to me.

After graduating from high school in 1996, I went to the University of Wyoming and majored in music. The university choirs I sang in had a vast repertoire, including everything from Giovanni Palestrina to J.S. Bach to Samuel Barber. I can even recall a few snippets of chant.

I look back now and remember being moved every time I heard Barber’s Agnus Dei. This was before my conversion, when I was still closely identifying with rock music in general. I thought of music as expressing who I was and didn’t give too much thought to any effect it could have on me.

When did you start to consciously consider the influence music had on you?

That wouldn’t be until many years later. There was a lot that happened before then, starting with what I call a “subtle conversion” that took place after graduating from college and moving to Minneapolis. I was, in a sincere but slow and incoherent sort of way, getting closer to God. I started going to Mass every Sunday, but I was still far from living the faith outside of Sunday Mass.

While at Mass, I couldn’t help but notice something about the music. It was generally a happy-clappy (yet sometimes pleasant) music, but it really seemed out of place. It was more deserving of being in a Disney film than in a church. It was what I had heard at Mass throughout childhood, so it wasn’t alarming in itself, but I did start to ask question like, “Why are we singing the beautiful works Palestrina had written for the Mass at secular universities and singing more worldly-sounding music at Mass? It all seemed misplaced.

When did your subtle conversion start to progress?

My subtle conversion became much stronger when I was introduced to the traditional Latin Mass. My parents had found a community staffed by the Priestly Fraternity of St. Peter in Rapid City. It was called the Community of St. Michael the Archangel, and they wanted to share the beauty they had experienced there.

It was quite fitting that Michael the Archangel was the name of the community, because Michael means “Who is like God?” in Hebrew. The name is meant to convey the fact that God has no equal,and that he is exalted far above our own comprehension. Such a distinction is supposed to be the occasion of our humble adoration, and this is what happened at the St. Michael community.

As you might expect, of all the various aspects of the extraordinary form of the Mass, I was particularly drawn to the musical patrimony of the Church. While I had heard some great pieces in the past, I was about to learn of the rich and abundant treasury of beautifully composed works for each day of the liturgical year, a treasury that composers have been expanding throughout the Church’s history. It was an entirely new and challenging musical world opening up to me.

I would later go to a colloquium and chant-intensive workshop sponsored by the Church Music Association of America. I was thrilled to learn a great deal — whether directly or indirectly — from Dr. William Mahrt, Scott Turkington and Jeffrey Tucker. These men and others helped me to better understand the glorious musical heritage we have in the Church.

How did you get to teach at the Priestly Fraternity of St. Peter’s seminary in Denton, Neb.?

In 2009, I entered the seminary to explore a possible calling to the priesthood. While it was great to be with a group of men so dedicated to God, it became apparent after the first year that I didn’t have a priestly vocation. Yet I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to do instead.

It was only a few weeks after departing the seminary that our rector, Father Josef Bisig, called and asked if I would like to teach music there. I happily accepted, started teaching in the 2010-2011 school year, and have been doing so ever since. In the meantime, I’ve also discovered a vocation to marriage. [Lemme was married Oct. 26.]

What courses do you teach at the seminary?

I primarily teach how to sing Gregorian chant, which the Fathers of the Second Vatican Council state is to be given “pride of place” in the Church’s worship. My classes are mainly devoted to learning the Solesmes method of interpretation, but we also take a look at the history of chant, its function in the liturgy, its spirituality and its influence on other forms of Western music. In addition to this, I’ve recently started giving a class on the power of music in general. How that class was made possible is an interesting story.

I remembered that, during my “subtle conversion,” I had gradually stopped listening to the conventional rock music produced from the ’60s to the ’90s. The lyrics in those songs were filled with promotion of vices such as pride, disobedience, vanity and lust — none of which corresponded with the virtue I was hoping to acquire. Most of the records I had in my music library were removed in a very matter-of-fact way that seemed natural to me. I didn’t need to put a lot of reflection into it.

It wasn’t until my first year at the seminary (while discerning a vocation) that I discovered there might be more to the story. I had grown accustomed to the beautifully structured seminary life. We had regular times for prayer, manual work, study and recreation. During the times of prayer, we would chant the Divine Office, and, of course, there was also chant (and some polyphony) at Masses. We were enveloped in a beautifully mysterious atmosphere, where our minds and hearts were drawn upward into the realm of the Divine.

After four months of not listening to recorded music, I decided to do some recreational listening on my iPod. A heavy-hitting, rock-influenced jazz instrumental came on the mix. I was startled out of my little piece of heaven into an atmosphere of agitation. What was previously an almost temptation-free environment had become a battleground filled with anxiety.

You had already come to dislike rock, so what was new about this experience?

What really got me thinking was: There were no words to the song, so those were not the concern. The music itself was agitating me. Everyone, whether musically inclined or not, will agree that certain types of music tend to evoke certain emotions. The sentiments felt upon hearing Richard Wagner’s Ride of the Valkyries are assuredly not the same as those felt upon hearing Arvo Pärt’s Für Alina.

However, where the connection is often missing, as it had been for me, is from the specific emotions to specific vices or virtues. Take anger, as an example. Anger itself is not sinful, but once it has gained entrance into the soul, it is very difficult to control and can lead to sin.

So if the topic is presented, it should be done in a way that somehow engages the intellect. This is possible through Allegro of Dmitri Shostakovich’s String Quartet No. 8, but not through Metallica’s House of Puppets, which negates the intellect by its coarse, mindless grinding.

Once the emotion of anger is presented without any reference to rationality, its influence can easily lead to vice. An angry person finds it more difficult to pray and forgive or to be patient and generous. Christian living is impaired without the affected person even knowing how that came about.

This connection between emotion and virtue was a huge revelation to me, so I began reflecting on the topic and looking more deeply into it. I found that what was revealed to me was actually a concept that has been with us since antiquity.

Plato expressed the force of music in his Republic this way: “Musical training is a more potent instrument than any other, because rhythm and harmony find their way into the inward places of the soul.”

Father Basil Nortz, ORC [Canons Regular of the Holy Cross], has written and spoken of how it is essential to realize that it is not only the lyrics of a song that will affect us. The music itself enters into the deepest recesses of the soul to influence us there even more profoundly than words. The reason for this is: Words must first be understood by the mind, but music is immediately grasped by the emotions, regardless of previous training or culture.

So you disagree with adding good lyrics to rock music?

Let me put in this way: I wouldn’t be moved in quite the same way by hearing the words of Agnus Dei set to a fast-paced, heavy-drum beat. In reality, it would obliterate any positive influence the words would have had. The words really need to match the music; that’s good art.

Pope Emeritus Benedict XVI wrote before his papacy in The Spirit of the Liturgy that, “Not every kind of music can have a place in Christian worship.” In order to determine what kinds of music do have a place, he gave this criterion: “Does it integrate man by drawing him to what is above, or does it cause his disintegration into formless intoxication or mere sensuality?”

Additionally, he stated in A New Song for the Lord that rock music is “thoroughly opposed to the Christian notion of redemption and of freedom.” Therefore, he continued, “Not for aesthetic reasons, not from reactionary obstinacy, not from historical immobility, but because of its very nature, music of this type must be excluded from the Church.”

The ontology (or the very being) of music should determine where that music is found. I have yet to find a culture or religion that does not have its representative music. Early on, rock music represented and shaped my own culture, or way of life. Now, I now tend to be drawn, and to draw from, music that elevates the soul without negating the intellect. Gregorian chant seems to be the paradigm of this, but other examples can be found that encourage the pursuit of virtue as well.

This is a fascinating topic that will occupy my thoughts the rest of my life. There’s still so much for me to learn, but I’m grateful for having my eyes opened to it, and I hope to pass it along well to the seminarians.

I would consider the subject properly disseminated to them if they appreciate music’s power over their souls and live out what so many great thinkers have taught about music — not only from a liturgical standpoint, but from an ontological one as well.

There’s a mysterious and strong influence exerted through music, so we should delight in making the effort to seek out those types of music that ennoble and lift us higher. The ultimate goal is to sing the praises of almighty God in heaven, and we begin to do this on earth in a most notable way when we engage in reverent Christian worship.

The end of “Greater Meatloaf”

Today I will say Mass using the formulary for the 4th Sunday “left over” after Epiphany.

“But Father! But Father!”, some of you in Columbia Heights may be saying, “Isn’t Epiphany in, like, January or something?”

At the end of the liturgical year with the traditional Roman calendar, there are some oddities to counting the Sundays.

As we approach the end of another liturgical year, a strange thing happens in the Church’s traditional, pre-Conciliar calendar. After the 22nd Sunday after Pentecost, the Sundays left over after Epiphany, way back after Christmas, are pulled out of the freezer, warmed up and served. And “left over” is not a flippant description. In the older Missale Romanum our Sunday is “Dominca quarta quae superfuit post Epiphaniam”. Superfuit is from super-sum, which the super Lewis & Short Latin Dictionary , indicates is “to be over and above, either as a remainder or as a superfluity”.

So how can Sundays be ‘left over’?” Here is what happened.

In structuring our liturgical calendar we Christians depend on the vagaries of the moon. The date of Easter each year is fixed according to when the spring full moon occurs. Since the moon isn’t always full on the same date, the date of Easter Sunday shifts. Lent, however, has a fixed length. Thus the beginning of Lent slides around, earlier or later depending on that spring full moon. At the other end of the equation, Epiphany (the real Epiphany) is a fixed date: 6 January. Since the beginning of Lent slides around, the time between Epiphany, which begins on 14 January, and Ash Wednesday and Septuagesima (three weeks before), is longer or shorter depending on when the moon is full in the spring.

There can be many as six Sundays between Epiphany and Septuagesima which can fall from 18 January to 22 February, that is from the 2nd until the 6th Sunday after Epiphany.

Therefore, when Lent begins earlier the texts for as many as four Sundays after Epiphany slated to be celebrated up to Septuagesima must be skipped. On the other end of the Lent/Easter cycle, Pentecost also shifts its date. Pentecost is always the same number of days after the movable Easter. The twenty-four Sundays allotted after Pentecost are not enough to get us all the way to the end of the liturgical year, back around to Advent. Depending on the date of the spring full moon, there can be a gap of a several Sundays between the 22nd after Pentecost and last Sunday before Advent.

Therefore, Holy Church uses those “movable” Sundays left over after Epiphany as fillers until the final Sunday of the year, which liturgically is always the 24th Sunday after Pentecost … even if it isn’t ordinally the 24th. So, at the end of the Church’s year, in the traditional calendar, we usually get left over Sundays.

In the newer, post-Conciliar calendar the shift in the moon also changes how many Sundays of “Ordinary Time” we can squeeze in after the Christmas season ends with the Baptism of the Lord (a mystery yanked away from the Feast of Epiphany). Again, due to the shifting dates of Pentecost some of the Sundays of Ordinary Time in the middle of the calendar are blotted out by the tail end of the Easter season.

At the end of the liturgical year in the newer calendar, the last Sunday is always fixed as the 34th Sunday of Ordinary Time, celebrated as the Solemnity of Christ the King. In the older calendar Christ the King is observed on the last Sunday of October.

In the older, traditional calendar we have not only the far more interesting Septuagesima and the pre-Lent Sundays, we also have the Seasons of Epiphany and Pentecost for what is called our tempus per annum… “time through the year”. In the post-Conciliar calendar we call the tempus per annum “Ordinary Time”. “Ordinary” refers to “order” rather than “ordinariness”. Perhaps it would be better to call it “Ordinal Time”.

The Novus Ordo’s “ordered” time is split into two unequal parts. An old clerical friend of mine, dear Harold – R.I.P – called them “Greater and Lesser ‘Meatloaf’”. I preferred the traditional reckoning. Whereas in the ordinary Novus Ordo calendar we just throw the unconsumed “meatloaf” Sundays away, in the Church’s extraordinary calendar we conserve the left over Sundays in the back of the liturgical ice-box and pull them out later if needed.

Either way, as is the case with many things preserved lovingly in the refrigerator for a long time, these Sundays are green… with hope, of course.

ALL SAINTS’ DAY
November 1, 2013
7:00 p.m.

ALL SOULS’ DAY
November 2, 2013
11:00 a.m.

Parking is available as on Sundays, i.e., on the opposite sides of 6th Street from Pine Street to Washington Square, and on Spruce Street from 5th Street to 7th Street.

First Friday, November 1, A.D. 2013, Traditional Latin Mass (TLM) will be offered by Fr. Jason V. Kulczynski of Maternity B.V.M. Roman Catholic Church at the Rectory Chapel of St. Albert The Great Parish, 212 Welsh Road, Huntingdon Valley, PA 19006, (T) 215-947-3500 at 7 p.m. preceded by Confessions at 6:30 p.m. Fr. Kulczynski will be offering The Mass of All Saints in Reparation to The Sacred Heart of Jesus. This Mass WILL FULFILL your All Saints Holy Day obligation.

First Saturday, November 2, A.D. 2013, TLM will be offered by Fr. Dominick Finn, O.S.F.S. also at the Rectory Chapel of St. Albert The Great Parish, 212 Welsh Road, Huntingdon Valley, PA 19006, (T) 215-947-3500 at 9:15 a.m. preceded by Confessions at 8:45 a.m. Fr. Finn will be offering The Mass of All Souls in Reparation to The Immaculate Heart of Mary.

The Rectory, also known as the Parish Center, is behind the Church, which fronts on Welsh Road.

Thank you for publicizing these Traditional Latin Masses.

Mark Matthews

Posted by Matthew, from the Blog, A Catholic Life

Each year the Church celebrates the Solemnity of Christ the King and gloriously acknowledges the Kingship of Jesus Christ. For Jesus Christ is not just King of the saints or of Catholics. J esus Christ is King of all Creation from eternity to eternity. For not only did He create all that exists, He also redeemed all mankind to restore creation to a greater glory. He deserves all glory, honor, and praise. As we read frequently in the Liturgy of the Hours: “O Lord our God, you are worthy to receive glory and honor and power” (Revelations 4:11)

Jesus Christ is the King of the Universe, the King of all creation, of all things seen and unseen. Let that thought just sit in your mind. Just take it in and meditate on that statement – Jesus Christ is the King of the Universe. And even though His dominion is the universe, He cares for each of us with a love inconceivable. This love was displayed on the Cross and it continues to be renewed each and every moment that the bread and wine at Mass become the Body and Blood of Jesus Christ. As Mother Teresa said, “When you look at the crucifix, you understand how much Jesus loved you. When you look at the Sacred Host you understand how much Jesus loves you now.”

In the traditional Gospel passage (1962 Missal) for the Feast of Christ the King (i.e. John 18:33-37), Jesus Christ, the King of kings, is taken before Pilate. And Pilate does not recognize Him as King. Instead he asks Jesus “Are you the King of the Jews?” And Jesus, who humbled Himself even unto death, does not call on the legions of angels ready to help Him. Instead He exclaims, “My kingdom does not belong to this world. If my kingdom did belong to this world, my attendants would be fighting to keep me from being handed over to the Jews. But as it is, my kingdom is not here.” I have frequently thought about that verse. No matter how bad life in our current nations and kingdoms gets, I realize that one day I shall enter Jesus Christ’s everlasting Kingdom – the kingdom not of this world.

The Israelites, God’s chosen people, were given a king over 3,000 years ago. And the Lord warned them that if they were give an earthly king there would be a grave list of problems. But the Israelites demanded one. They didn’t just want the Lord God as King, they wanted an earthy one. So Saul was anointed with holy Chrism oil, and from that day, Israel suffered many problems.

Until at last the King of kings, Jesus Christ, came into the midst of the Jewish leaders. But they didn’t know Him. Their very creator was not recognized by them. And so they cried out, “We have no king but Ceasar” (John 19:15). What a lie! The Jewish leaders absolutely hated Ceasar and the Roman occupation. They historically despised Caesar. But, they could not carry out an execution without Rome. So they swallow their pride here and exclaimed their king was Ceasar. Now it should be clear how much the Jewish leaders hated Christ – they would rather honor Caesar, who they hated. And the Jewish leaders convinced the crowd to join them, and all of them called out “Crucify Him”. What pain must have radiated in the heart of Our Savior as His people rejected Him. They subjected their true king, Jesus Christ, to the worst form of execution at that time, reserved for only the most wretched criminals – crucifixion.

And as the King of Glory mounted His Cross with a crown of thorns, He redeemed the world. And as He hung on that tree, two criminals were crucified with Him – one on his right and one on his left. And one them mocked Jesus. But the other one, obviously a man put to death for his grave sins, begged for mercy. He looked at Jesus and said, “Lord, remember me when You come into Your kingdom” (Luke 23:42). That thief repented and acknowledged Christ’s kingship (this repentant thief is called St. Dismas in the Church’s traditions). And the Lord replies to Him: “Today you will be with Me in Paradise” (Luke 23:43). Remember the thief had a “death bed” conversion. He couldn’t do any “works” throughout his life for Jesus Christ. Instead he could only confess Jesus Christ as King. And that confession was a work in and of itself. Remember the words of St. James: “For just as a Body without a spirit is dead, so also faith without works is dead” (James 2:26).

Let us clean our souls in Confession and receive the Eucharist in joy. May Christ the King reign in all of us. For His dominion is not just of the earth, sky, and cosmos. His dominion is also in our souls.

Quas Primas:

In the first Encyclical Letter which We addressed at the beginning of Our Pontificate to the Bishops of the universal Church, We referred to the chief causes of the difficulties under which mankind was laboring. And We remember saying that these manifold evils in the world were due to the fact that the majority of men had thrust Jesus Christ and his holy law out of their lives; that these had no place either in private affairs or in politics: and we said further, that as long as individuals and states refused to submit to the rule of our Savior, there would be no really hopeful prospect of a lasting peace among nations. Men must look for the peace of Christ in the Kingdom of Christ; and that We promised to do as far as lay in Our power. In the Kingdom of Christ, that is, it seemed to Us that peace could not be more effectually restored nor fixed upon a firmer basis than through the restoration of the Empire of Our Lord. We were led in the meantime to indulge the hope of a brighter future at the sight of a more widespread and keener interest evinced in Christ and his Church, the one Source of Salvation, a sign that men who had formerly spurned the rule of our Redeemer and had exiled themselves from his kingdom were preparing, and even hastening, to return to the duty of obedience.

ENCYCLICAL OF POPE PIUS Xl DECEMBER 11, 1925

Indulgence for Feast of Christ the King:

A partial indulgence is granted to the faithful, who piously recite the Act of Dedication of the Human Race to Jesus Christ King. A plenary indulgence is granted, if it is recite publicly on the feast of our Lord Jesus Christ King.

Additional Information for the Feast of Christ the King:

The Feast of Christ the King was established by Pope Pius XI in 1925 as an antidote to secularism, a way of life which leaves God out of man’s thinking and living and organizes his life as if God did not exist. The feast is intended to proclaim in a striking and effective manner Christ’s royalty over individuals, families, society, governments, and nations.

Today’s Mass establishes the titles for Christ’s royalty over men: 1) Christ is God, the Creator of the universe and hence wields a supreme power over all things; “All things were created by Him”; 2) Christ is our Redeemer, He purchased us by His precious Blood, and made us His property and possession; 3) Christ is Head of the Church, “holding in all things the primacy”; 4) God bestowed upon Christ the nations of the world as his special possession and dominion.

Today’s Mass also describes the qualities of Christ’s kingdom. This kingdom is: 1) supreme, extending not only to all peoples but also to their princes and kings; 2) universal, extending to all nations and to all places; 3) eternal, for “The Lord shall sit a King forever”; 4) spiritual, Christ’s “kingdom is not of this world”.

— Rt. Rev. Msgr. Rudolph G. Bandas

Prayers to Christ the King:

O Jesus Christ, I acknowledge Thee as universal King. All that has been made, has been created for Thee. Exercise all Thy rights over me. I renew my baptismal vows, renouncing Satan, his pomps and his works; and I promise to live as a good Christian. In particular do I plege myself to labor, to the best of my ability, for the triumph of the rights of God and Thy Church.

Divine Heart of Jesus, to Thee do I proffer my poor services, laboring that all hearts may acknowledge Thy Sacred Kingship, and that thus the reign of Thy peace be established throughout the whole universe. Amen.

Prayer Source: My Catholic Faith: A Manual of Religion by Most Rev. Louis Laravoire Morrow, S.T.D., My Mission House, 1965

Speakers:

His Excellency, The Most Reverend Bishop Don Teodoro de Faria, Bishop Emeritus of Funchal, Madeira Islands, Portugal

Ricardo Dumont dos Santos, Leader, Emperor Karl League of Prayers, Madeira Islands, Portugal

Raymond de Souza, Founder of St. Gabriel Communications, Special Missions Coordinator for Human Life International, and Director of New Evangelization & Apologetics for the Diocese of Winona, MN

Refreshments to be Served; Donations Accepted

ALL SAINTS’ DAY
November 1, 2013
7:00 p.m.

ALL SOULS’ DAY
November 2, 2013
11:00 a.m.

Parking is available as on Sundays, i.e., on the opposite sides of 6th Street from Pine Street to Washington Square, and on Spruce Street from 5th Street to 7th Street.