We will continue to pray for you. Many of have been in you situation. May God give you healing and comfort.

C.O., I'm so sorry this has happened to you. I once experienced something slightly similar. I believe I've told this story elsewhere on the forum, but here goes:

I once played for a church that was a national place of pilgrimage and had special indulgences. I was hired in by a traditional priest of anglican heritage who encouraged me to play beautiful hymn arrangements, introduce chant to the parish, encouraged me to receive kneeling on the tongue and did all of advent and lent versus deum, distributed at the altar rail he had reinstalled, and we did latin ordinaries during Advent and Lent as well. There was MUCH to be thankful for, especially considering this was (obviously) a N.O. parish.

One sad day he was reassigned to a parish in the nearest major metropolitan area and was replaced by a Thai priest who came to the US as a political refugee. I'm not sure the exact circumstances of his seminary training, but within TWO WEEKS of arriving, use of the altar rail was completely prohibited, the altar was stripped of all but two of the candles, I was no longer permitted to chant (even simple english propers as prelude to the entrance hymn, and certainly not at communion), he no longer spent Saturday afternoons in the confessional (and poor pilgrims would find me in my robes and ask where the priest was... I'd have to walk across the street to the rectory and ask him to come over!) he had people with no liturgical role whatsoever sit inside the sanctuary (one Sunday—I kid you not—he put out folding chairs and had the sacristans sit shoulder to shoulder with the tabernacle facing the people... he ceased using the pulpit and wore the ugliest vestments we owned (the ugly cotton ones hidden in the back of the closet from the 80's that should have been burned), he wouldn't sit in the presider's chair, but the smaller deacon's chair, and I can go on and on. It was tragic.

I started noticing strange things, and I regularly had to stay at the organ and not receive at communion because I was SO upset at what was happening... I knew I had no business receiving our Lord in that state as to do so would have been sinful. At one point I wrote a long letter and personally delivered it to him, in the hopes of addressing much of what was happening. It was a calm, well-reasoned letter that appealed to conciliar documents (rather than older, more authoritative sources) that sought to bring some of the abuses to his attention, show why they were so, and encourage him in his priestly ministry; to let him know that we wanted to have him as our pastor but simply hoped that some of these issues could be addressed. I wrote it in letter form so that my thoughts could be better presented and more cohesive, not to hide, and as I said, I delivered it by hand and looked him in the eye and asked him to prayerfully consider what was in the letter. I left the sacristy that day, and the sacristan opened it and read it to him. I am grateful for this, as I now have a witness who has attested to others (and affirmed to Father) what I wrote. Abuses continued, but things were more tense than ever.

I was screaming inside every weekend. Twice I showed up and the organ was not how I left it. The second time it was patently apparent that the priest had auditioned someone in my absence to replace me. There were only two keys to the organ: mine, and one locked inside the sacristy. It was obvious someone else had been at the instrument while I was away. I decided to resign effective Christmas day (2-3 weeks away). I would get them through the holy day. I asked to speak to the pastor after mass that weekend with witnesses from the parish council and the parish secretary.

I said very calmly to Father that I was aware he had been seeking my replacement and that it was obvious to both of us that we had different ideas about how best to conduct the sacred liturgy. I therefore thought it best for both of us if I tendered my resignation effective Christmas. He rose, without speaking a single word to me, and walked out. The secretary followed. I sat in the office for a few minutes with members of the council and we discussed various things... a few minutes later, the secretary came back, handed me a check, told me not to come back, and then asked another employee to follow me out as I gathered my things. It was unbelievable. I now joke I was "quit fired".

I found out later that he had discussed dismissing me to the parish council at one point and they pleaded with him not to; they all wanted to see me stay and was glad that I was there. So I'm told: one of the reasons he sought my dismissal was for "flagrant insubordination for insisting on kneeling to receive communion on the tongue" (as is my right according to canon law... and we never discussed it; I simply continued kneeling after others stopped, and I always went up into the sanctuary to receive right away so I could begin the communion antiphon as soon as possible, so I wasn't receiving "normally" like everyone else anyway).

Long story short: what followed was a period of a few months where I attended the TLM exclusively (hour, one-way) including an exquisite Christmas Midnight mass. I had to detox. I was just wrapping up my MM to be an organist as a career and suddenly found myself never wanting to play organ for a church again. That period of a few months of detachment was some of the happiest time of my life and exactly what my soul needed. Eventually I was put into contact with a different novus ordo parish with an excellent pastor and traditionally-minded parishioners and what followed were some very happy years, despite modest circumstances. There is light at the end of the tunnel. Leaving today is undoubtedly going to be good for your soul. Take heart.

I think the hardest part of leaving is being away from friends. It does affect your relationship with them. Sometimes, it even ends the relationship. You may want to throw the pastor into the parking lot and drive over him and never care all that much. But leaving friends is hard.

I’m sorry to hear about this situation. Yes, it is all too familiar.

My pastor is retiring, effective July 1. I’ve been at my parish for 10.5 years. My pastor has some musical quirks, but he has pretty much let me run my program the way I see fit and has treated me, and my family, well. We really love it here. We’re a pretty significant parish in the archdiocese, so I’m hopeful we’ll get a good pastor and we’ll continue to move forward. There’s a part of me, though, that’s scared to death! All the work we’ve done can be erased in an instant.

Yes, Greg, not only do these congregations have a large say (Anglican), or an abslolute say (most others) in the choice of new rectors or pastors, but the liturgy and music are sacrosanct and are intrinsic to a parish's being. No new priest or minister changes it one whit. He is there to serve them, not himself. A case in example would be Houston's own Christ Church Cathedral. From it's inception in the XIXth century through to today it has had a consistent and ever more exemplary program of excellent choral music from organist-choirmaster of the highest calibre. To a new dean, or a new bishop, it would be literally unthinkable to alter this tradition. And so it is in most normal parishes. Parish traditions, not clerical whims, are greatly prized in the Episcopal-Anglican world, and in many others. And in the Catholic Church it's feudal chaos.

On the other hand, it was not unkown in the Church of England for a for a new incumbent to change things completely overnight. For example to impose the TLM, illegally, on a conformist BCP parish. :

The great Fr Bernard Walke describes his introduction a century ago of what we so happily used to call the Western Rite, sometimes known nowadays as the Extraordinary Form, to his Cornish Anglican parish:
"On that first Sunday after my induction the people of St Hilary flocked to church and found, in the place of a clergyman reading 'Dearly beloved', a strange figure in vestments at the altar with a little boy who knelt at his side. Many were watching for the first time the drama of the Mass. They were there as spectators who watch a play with a symbolism and language unknown to them. Man cries for redemption: Kyrie eleison, Christe eleison, Kyrie eleison. God answers man's despairing cry in the opening words of the Gloria in excelsis proclaiming the advent of the promised Saviour, but still they do not understand.
"'Whatever is he doing up there now?' they say. 'Can 'e make it out at all?' The summit of the drama is reached when, the whole company of heaven having been summoned to man's aid, the words of consecration are spoken and bread and wine become the Body and Blood of Jesus who offered himself on the Cross at Calvary. They are aware of the silence, broken by the ringing of a bell. 'Did 'e hear the bell? what is that for, my dear?' they whisper. The bell rings again at the Domine non sum dignus. There are a few who kneel in wonder at what is being accomplished; it is for them a moment of prayer such as they have never experienced before."

(copied from Fr Hunwicke's blog, posted 19 March 2020.)

Sounds like your bishop and chancellor are unhinged. What a dreadful state of affairs.

.

My first thought, unfortunately, was the same as Carol's.

It is time for you to be paid for your work: not there, but somewhere.

Thank you MJO!

Perhaps we should consider this from the view of Msgr. Kroetsch , he became diocesan Liturgy Director 40 years ago, and has been promoting his vision of Pastoral Liturgy ever since, from 35 years ago at national level. And yet outbreaks of revolt continue to occur.

Little Durufle, I've had the exact same thought before. Praise bands are never up in the loft. Always right down in front putting on a "show". Every. Single. Time. Hands in the air and everything.

Perhaps the difference is how much more work has to be put into this so-called "performance-oriented" music.
However, he who sings well, prays twice.

I'm really sorry for you, Casavant. It is heartbreaking to build what you have built only to see it scorned and forbidden. Everyone loses in this sad episode - you, and those who in their astonishing and chosen ignorance sought to eradicate your loving work. My heart goes out to you and I pray that you may find greater joy in greener pastures.

Ouch.

I can only say that there are places where things are better, and I hope that one of your dedication finds one of those soon. God bless you.

I'm so happy that you are liberated from the tyranny of this willfully cultivated ignorance and brazen defiance of the council's wishes. May God smile upon all your endeavours.

Not as though it needs to be heard, but I thought I'd share some recordings I made from the last two Sundays before my departure.
Call to Remembrance - Farrant
Jesu, grant me this I pray - Gibbons (vv. 1, 4)
O Help Us, Lord (The Third Mode) - Tallis (yes, I know the rhythms were wrong, not my score)

Enjoy!

Also, I'd love to see that Tallis score. The Third Mode Melody is one of my all time favorites (I heard the voice of Jesus say is a wonderful text for it). I'd be curious to see this text too. It's time I trot this back out with my schola.

I know the feeling. And non-professional / church recordings never truly reflect what it's actually like in the room. My choir sounds so nice (for what they are) in real life, and then I listen to the live stream and cringe because the blend is terrrrible and the natural effect of the room is completely filtered out. At least the people who actually come get a treat. They seem happy too since I've received multiple comments the last few weeks about how nice we are sounding.

I received a call earlier today from one of the other music people (the choir coodinator) begging me to stay. She read the chancellor's email and thought that my proposed program was in line with what he wanted anyways. I did not read the email that way, but that's beside the point. (PM if you want me to send you a copy of the correspondence - I do not want to post or share publicly.)

I proceeded to say that this was a simple matter of mental health. I have no obligation to the church, since I am a (former) volunteer. I need to look after myself. Those who have been singing for me have told me to just get out of there and I decided that it was the best thing to do.

If I'd stuck it out as some wished, I'd probably be very unstable by the end of the Triduum. It's an unfortunate thing for me to resign at this time but I can't neglect my well-being and that of my choristers.

Well they get to come with me, so it's a win-win, I guess! Haha

Massissimo happens to be one of my singers. He's fabulous! He's our "soprano" (very high countertenor).

Yes, I am going to the diocese next door where tradition is much more welcome.

Yes, I am going to the diocese next door where tradition is much more welcome.

tradition should never not be welcome. (the biggest giveaway about the lie of the all-inclusive philosophy of the modernists)