Coming from NYC to Minnesota, I was quite surprised that people really really REALLY hated Latin. Like, viscerally. It’s not that in NYC there weren’t the similar battles. But it wasn’t the Latin, it was the chant. Here, it’s the Latin more than the chant. Part of me thinks that in NYC (or any urban parish for that matter) parishioners hear many languages spoken over the course of their daily lives. The idea of a language being a barrier to prayer is not something that comes up.

In the Midwest (specifically the suburbs) all people hear is English and so people have earnestly expressed great difficulty in their ability to pray. My goal is to be charitable and to assume the good faith of people who come to speak with me. I will often ask them a question that gauges whether this is a true concern or something that comes from the connotations of Latin (we are going backwards, we are conservative now, etc.). Having done choral music in Spanish (especially some really great Christmas stuff), I’ll ask if that presents the same barrier. The political connotations immediately switch when the language in question switches. And it can really clarify what is going on. Every time, whoever my interlocutor is will say “yes, even Spanish” (or French or German or whatever). It allows the dialogue to open up more fruitfully.

But I do try to be understanding. I don’t know what it’s like to have lived through the changes after the council or the chaos of ‘68. If people have a strong desire to know and love Jesus, I start with that and ask them to give it a shot and truly test the hypothesis that the music of our heritage as Roman Catholics really can help them come to know Christ more. And I encourage them to come back to my office and keep up the discussion. Only when they start to argue in bad faith do I back away. But as the music director, I feel it important to maintain dialogue with this demographic. I guess the overall goal is to not be cynical and I always speak in good faith. It’s worked well for me so far.

I am not persuaded of the placement of Theodore Marier at that stage. Nor of the idea of the chant and polyphony being rarified tastes, for that matter; that's a nearly perfect metaphorical way to write off that repertoire from active use in the liturgy - it's a gift to those who hate them in the repertoire.

I got the pun, alright, but what preceded it attracted my attention more, first as a former parishioner and singer at Theodore Marier's church in decades past, and second because I've witnessed the alacrity with which enemies and skeptics of chant and polyphony will seize upon similar metaphors to damn chant and polyphony with faint praise and duly direct them out of active regular use in liturgy and advised to stick to concert halls where aficionados and connoisseurs can appreciate them without burdening the prayers of The Real People(TM).

Since the Laws of Congregational Singing are:
1. Congregations only sing songs they like.
2. Congregations only like songs they know.
3. Congregations only know songs their church sang in childhood.
then it stands to reason that exposing children to only sacred music in church will solve this problem in a generation or two.
Voluntary conversions are uncommon, both in religion and in musical taste. But forced conversions, though perhaps resisted by older generations, are eventually taken as a given by younger generations.

@JT_Fields: "In the Midwest (specifically the suburbs) all people hear is English and so people have earnestly expressed great difficulty in their ability to pray ... I will often ask them a question that gauges whether this is a true concern or something that comes from the connotations of Latin (we are going backwards, we are conservative now, etc.). Having done choral music in Spanish (especially some really great Christmas stuff), I’ll ask if that presents the same barrier. The political connotations immediately switch when the language in question switches. And it can really clarify what is going on. Every time, whoever my interlocutor is will say “yes, even Spanish” (or French or German or whatever). It allows the dialogue to open up more fruitfully."

It seems to me that many Americans have an aversion to dealing with any language other than English. I've encountered this in secular community choruses, whether the language was Latin, German, or Old Church Slavonic.