This is the essay I wish I had the patience and deliberation to have written. JT must put your mug, sideways or not, on the masthead, Adam. Where the curmudgeon cohort will revolt is with this maxim of yours, "

This pastoral understanding of the intersection between people's liturgical desires and their need for the grace and formation provided by the traditions of the Church is one of the strongest arguments against an abrupt and unprepared shift from current common practice to a program of Traditional Sacred Music."

And others, not curmudgeons, will agree against your argument from a perfectly just position- the Latin Roman Rite is, for all practical intent and purposes, codified and no longer ossified. Why dilly-dally the point and the truth of that? Well, as you point out, the catholic proletariat has never, to my knowledge, been provided the means to understand the physiology as well as the philosophy of their Rites. As a teen convert back in the early 70's, the music that was the tissue, sinews, organs and physical systems that were attendant to the skeleton (the structure, architecture, foundation, whatever) that I intuited to be "liturgy." And liturgy and ritual had been lacking from any other experience I'd ever known in my young child's life prior.
I have been graced to work at parishes over long tenures with pastors who understood that some of the adorning feathers of music had to molt and evolve into more stable and beautiful plumage. But at the same time, I couldn't insist that every Mass reflected the attributes of a hummingbird, or a cardinal, a peacock or a condor. But I wouldn't relent to populist pressure that lowers the denominator of attributes to pigeons, ravens or seagulls.
Well, I've overstated (duh) my point that it is not ever easy nor expeditious to manufactor unity and uniformity. You, sir, on the other hand have stated those points with truth and charity.

Not to worry, Adam, anytime you want to write more articles in this vein, I'll definitely make time to read them.

It's like the old commercial, "When EF Hutton [Adam Woods] speaks, people listen." : )

I read excerpts of your piece to my husband over the phone and he was applauding. I really think you're on to something when you speak of "build-as-you-go, community-specific worship and music."

Of course, I'm coming from the perspective of the traditional Latin liturgy, and have learned that the music choices depend very much on the venue. We're in a beautiful old chapel in the middle of St. John's Cemetery (yes, a cemetery!) in Queens, our choir is largely teens and amateurs, and our community is made up of a lot of families and young children, so those things must factor into my music decisions.

We have a more colloquial, populist style: standard congregational hymns and simple Mass settings from the Kyriale (a new one every two months!). We're also committed to singing the full propers and learning new polyphonic motets so we can introduce these essential elements of the Church's musical heritage to a new generation. We're also working on encouraging the people to sing the Introit and Communion antiphons with the schola, and we're fortunate that our congregation likes to sing (even the toddlers!)

However, if the setting for our Latin Mass was a cathedral in a metropolitan commuter/tourist parish, the choices would obviously be much different.

Adam,

A well thought out and constructed article. It has given me pause for thought.

You have named several whirlwinds in your article: the connection of tradition and Tradition, the place of personal to the collective (personal to the communal) and the nature of ritual to its various sinews ( art, music and architecture being the most prominent.)

My study of Parisian churches in the late 1800s and early 1900s had led me to examine the nature of unity and uniformity. Yes, many of the Parisian churches sang the chant, but in various ways and sometimes with no awareness of each other. The organ functioned differently in each church and some were more aware of the reforms brought by the Gregorian mvt. of the 1910-1930s (circa) than others. What is clear is that there is great diversity in the approaches. So, the question is "are the they all Catholic? Well, of course they are. But why? Ecclesiology connects them, but liturgical practice does not. Some are so different from others that one would ask if they are part of Holy Mother Church. Ecclesiology really has to connect us. But then the next question to ask is, how? Does a pope, or a bishop connect us? Hopefully, but for many, that question is simply so faraway as to think realistically. Figures such as bishops and popes are symbols to connect us, but to paraphrase the famous Massachusetts representative ,"All Catholicism is local." Seems odd to say that, but the answer is in the oddity. The nature of the local parish and by its nature, the local tradition, must be grounded in something greater than itself. An example: I love the mass setting I do here where I am, but when my folks leave this little square of the bourbon lands, they will not know two hoots and a holler of the mass setting in the next county or state even. For me, that is a significant problem and one that gnaws at my liturgical ecclesiology sense. So, the nature of the ritual asks itself to be practiced on a wider level than the local. But the local resists the universal at times. This is the current state.

This in turn asks us to consider asks us to consider history as we can possibly know: Has there been uniformity of practice within Catholicism? The answer is unequivocally NO. Much as many would like to believe, the Church before 1960 was not uniform. But, I argue, there is a break, a rupture at VII. But not in necessarily in just liturgical music, or art, but in the consciousness of the ecclesiology that has in turn fractured the sense of identity. This is the intersection we must think about as we go forward. In that lies the capacity to begin to look at sacred music. The world is far larger than my local parish. I love my local parish, but my Church is far bigger than it. As such, the question of local practice can be examined against the larger world.

Can more universal patterns live in this little corner of the bourbon lands? Only when they begin to see and taste the larger picture (pun intended). But its not just about music. Its a world view that need altering. This world view is resisted in the US ( and many other places if what I am told is correct.) Thus, we go on doing what we know because it makes our world view complete. But does one come to church to feel what one knows. Of course. But that is not the whole faith, that is spirituality of an infant order. Faith requires us to be challenged. Not always a comfortable place, I assure you. I have many years of work ahead.

Lastly, the task is further hampered by a divisive cultural device. We are no more Catholic. We are liberal, conservative, traditionalist, social justice,etc. Divide us up as you will and make us detest one another. And we fall victim to the local mentality. In my diocese, we have one traditional parish. When I think of that, I weep about it incessantly. Because that is what we have become. Not catholic, but taste and style. Is there not something larger than taste and style? Not in my diocese.

So, does one have courage to change music? For me, the question is ridiculous in the face of the larger question. We are disconnected from history, ecclessiology and the "big picture." Only in that context of re-connecting us to those things will a reform of music be hopeful. Its not enough to say one is Catholic, but to connect one's life and practice to the treasury of faith that Catholicism is. Then it becomes big and sacred music might once again find a home. Look for signs and symbols to show and give life to. Teach history so that we might be "anamnesis" in its fullest nature. See the Church in its most beautiful and its ugliest. This provides the capacity to be "divine and human." Remember and live to make it alive again.

Thanks Adam for good thoughts and personal consciousness.

My .02 ( which is worth even less.)

I can understand the need for something familiar, even if, in some cases, it falls a little short of what we desire.

Every year, our parish school (an Anglican Use parish) sings "O Mary we Crown Thee with Blossoms Today". While I have not been to May Crownings since coming to this parish, I do remember it from my old church in a town of about 10,000 people or so.
Now, of this hymn, my current pastor says that it is the most unpatrimonial hymn in our parish patrimony. But....the people love to sing it, and like a good pastor, Father loves his people and therefore he loves to sing it as well.

Even speaking for myself, I would probably complain myself if I heard this hymn was not being sung. And the strange thing is, even before learning of what Father's opinion was, I absolutely detested this hymn. I find nothing beautiful about it---the lyrics are cheapy and the tune just sucks; it sounds overall childish. But it is something I grew up with, and speaking for myself, I have a strange attachment to it that I don't have for, say, "On Eagles Wings" or "You Are Mine"---I could prolly write up an SATB setting to it---and I strive someday to carry out that desire.