Singing in Latin

"Many of these chants became all but forgotten by two generations of Catholics who were swept up in well-meaning but sometimes overzealous efforts in past decades to require constant innovation in liturgy."

Yep. That's what it says in the parish newsletter. I went to the evening Mass at St. Stephen's tonight because they are starting to do the Mass setting in Latin using the traditional Gregorian chants (or at least the updated chants as they appear in the Worship III hymnal). They're adding another section every Sunday....tonight they did the Gloria, Sanctus, and Agnus Dei. They plan to add the Kyrie and......the Credo!

Everything was a capella tonight, including the hymns. The morning cantoress was there tonight, so with her strong singing, she actually got people to sing heartily for the processional (Forest Green "Your hands, O Lord in days of old" (tune reminded me of Christmas)) and recessional (Thaxted "O God beyond all praising") hymns. The offertory (Sharpthorne "What does the Lord require") was another matter. Two or three people sang that I could hear, but the whispery noises they were making I would hardly call tuneful. And the communion marching music ("God, Your glory we have seen in Your Christ") was so not sung by the congregation that you could hear crickets.

The psalm antiphon was a setting by Leo Nestor and for the memorial acclamation and great amen they used the Proulx A Community Mass setting.

Msgr. Filardi celebrated and preached. He had a guest concelebrant with him today who's a priest from the West Bank of Israel. There was a second collection tonight, and no announcement of its purpose, so I'm going to guess it was going to the visiting priest's ministries.

It will be interesting to see how the Sunday evening Mass proceeds. I think they're planning to put together some kind of chant choir to support the Mass, and that could be interesting.

Gilding the sky

Ever since my first visit well over two years ago, I've reported that it seems as though the majority of the congregation at St. Paul's K Street is either geriatric or gay (or both); this morning, I confirmed that suspicion. In the opening hymn (When morning gilds the sky), there was a phrase that goes, "When evening shadows fall, this rings my curfew call, may Jesus Christ be praised!" Well, I heard from singing parishioners in multiple locations not "this rings my curfew call," but "this rings my curtain call."

Theater fags.

Anyway, I made a special point to go to K Street this morning, because this was John's first official Sunday as the new organist and assistant music director, and we're so happy to have him there! He played stunningly this morning, and the choir he directed sounded beautiful and well-balanced. The new interim music director has been selected—a Brit, surprise surprise LOL—but he won't get here until at least the end of the month (as soon as his visa clears the embassy in London), so John gets to do both jobs for the time being.

Today's organ prelude was "Adagio in E minor" by Frank Bridge. The postlude was "Flourish for an Occasion" by William Henry Harris. You can tell John did his masters at Indiana.

Hymns were the aforementioned Laudes Domini for the processional, Wachet auf (Praise the Lord through every nation) for the sequence, Herr Jesu Christ (O saving Victim) for post-communion, and Winchester New (Before the Lord's eternal throne) for the recessional.

The choir sang the a capella Palestrina Missa Brevis for the Mass setting. They also did "Christ whose glory fills the sky" (not the hymn tune) by T. Frederick H. Candlyn for the offertory anthem and "O nata Lux de lumine" by Thomas Tallis for the communion motet. They did an Anglican chant by James Turle for the psalm setting.

Back already

Quiet day at the early Mass at St. Stephen this morning. No choir. Hymns were Bunessan (Praise and thanksgiving) for the processional, Wareham (O Jesus, joy of loving hearts) for the offertory, and Darwall's 148th (To God with gladness sing) for the recessional. All very nicely Anglican. The communion marching music was a responsorial "The Lord is my light and my salvation," a familiar antiphon tune that was oddly ignored by the congregation (sometimes when the ditty is familiar, a few will softly sing along). Sleepy homily dissecting the Lord's Prayer (from this morning's Gospel), so I perused the hymnal.

The eye candy was pretty substantial this morning. Highly distracting. Yes, indeed. Very.

Substitute Sunday

You can tell it's summertime and vacation time. This morning, the resident priests and the organist/choirmaster were all on vacation, so we had a substitute priest and a substitute organist.

Since I went to the nine o'clock this morning, I guess the organist had just arrived, so she and the cantoress were going over some of the service music, and, surprisingly, playing some of it on the organ. It's always interesting to hear the Gloria as the prelude! Once they'd looked at the service music, the organist did some "filler" type prelude music, and it was quickly apparent to me that she was not Catholic, Episcopalian, or Lutheran. She had a tremolo going (there's no vibrato stop on that particular organ, so she must have been playing with the Vox Humana against some of the foundation stops) and she seemed to be improvising on what I can only surmise was a "gospel" hymn. She was pretty good for a non-Catholic substitute, though, as she played all of the stuff at the right time and didn't screw anything up. She didn't improvise as much in the "dead spaces" as does the usual organist, but in some parishes, it's normal to play only the hymns and the service music and not do filler. She did "fill," though, after the offertory and communion hymns, and once again, I had that "Protestant" impression and I was reminded of some of the small town funeral home organists I've heard.

Hymns today were Ellecombe (I sing the mighty power of God) for the processional, Sharpthorne (What does the Lord require) for the offertory, and Grosser Gott (Holy God we praise thy name) for the recessional. The particularly not-sung-by-the-congregation responsorial communion hymn marching music was "I received the living God and my heart is full of joy." You know, since the cantors/cantoresses end up singing these things by themselves anyway, I don't know why they just don't let them sing a decent song that's actually meant to be a solo. Service music was the usual summer hodge-podge.

There's no choir at the nine, so there weren't any anthems. I noticed they'd slated William Byrd's "Ave Verum" for a communion motet at the eleven.

The visiting priest, Fr. Casey, was very gregarious. He kept things moving, and I liked that. He also chose to deliver his homily from the center of the pace by the first row of pews instead of hiding behind the ambo (lecturn). He preached on the idea of taking time to listen for God in the midst of all our modern, fast-paced lives.

I noticed one interesting thing in the parish newsletter this morning. They are going to start singing the Mass settings in Latin at the 5:30 Sunday afternoon Mass, though they were careful to point out that the Mass itself would still be said in English. That tall, cute seminarian was there again today, too. What a shame that he's off the market!

Making the paper

I made the parish newsletter! The pastor always writes a weekly pastoral letter that takes up most of the front page of the newsletter. Today, it started off with "Walking past me after Sunday Mass a parishioner asked, 'So, Father, when are we going to have a Latin Mass?' I am not sure if he was being sarcastic or sincere, but no doubt he was alluding to Pope Benedict's recent letter, Summorum Pontificum, in which he allows a greater use of the Mass as celebrated before 1970." Alas, though, in talking about the Tridentine Mass, he goes on to say, "I must admit, because [of] its requirements of precision and movement, even if inclined, I am not trained to offer this Mass properly."

Mass today was actually kind of nice. The choir quartet was, once again, in surprisingly excellent form, doing a lovely job on Harold Friedell's "Draw Us in the Spirit's Tether" as the communion motet, and having an amazingly audible descant for the processional hymn (remember, this was a quartet). They really do so well when they sing Anglican literature! (Last week, they sounded good, too, doing Vaughn-Williams' "O How Amiable.")

Hymns today sounded interestingly similar, especially the offertory and recessional. For the processional, they did Leoni (The perfect law of God) with descant, the offertory Wareham (This is my will, my one command), and the recessional Sweet Sacrament (Jesus my Lord, my God, my All). The organist/choir master wrote a new third verse for Sweet Sacrament, "As we go forth from this, Thy house, Slay us with love and charity. Thine is the earth and stars and sun, Let now our hearts, Thine also be."

During communion marching music, the responsorial hymn was the ever-saccharine "God is love, and where true love is" with the Proulx antiphon, but they actually had more than the choir singing today! There was a lady a few pews behind me who was singing along lustily, but, let's just say she was making a joyful "noise" to the Lord.

Mass setting was the same as last week. Msgr. Filardi preached on today's Good Samaritan Gospel reading.

More Latin

Everyone was all abuzz this morning at Mass about the pope's recent announcement loosening the restrictions on parish use of the traditional pre-Vatican II Tridentine Mass. The Tridentine Mass is the old Latin rite, and for the past thirty years, parishes have had to have specific permission from their bishops to use it, and that permission has been scant. Under the new rules, the pastor of a parish can decide to use the Tridentine service to meet the pastoral needs of his parish. So, given the fact that nearly two generations of Catholics haven't used the Latin rite, I really don't expect any parish to go 100% Tridentine, or even for every parish to offer a Latin Mass. But, it'll be nice to hear the Latin again.

On the way out after Mass, I asked the celebrant when he was going to start using the Latin, and he and the seminarian standing with him said maybe after September 14....apparently all of the priests have to go to school to get trained on how to do the services and how to pronounce the Latin correctly! LOL

Anyway, there were a lot of people in Mass this morning, a bit of a surprise for a July Sunday.

The Mass setting for today was basically the Proulx A Community Mass with the Gloria from Hurd's New Plainsong Mass, traditional plainsong for the Kyrie, Gospel alleluia, and Exaudi Christe; Isele's Holy Cross Mass for the Agnus Dei, and Gouzes' Non sum dignus.

Hymns were Crucifer for the processional, Hyfrdol (Those who love and those who labor) for the offertory, and Abbot's Leigh for the recessional. The choir did a responsorial communion hymn with Christopher Willcock's "Taste and see" antiphon.

The choir did a surprisingly nice job singing Vaughn-Williams' "O How Amiable" as a post-communion motet. I wasn't expecting much, since the summer schola is only a quartet, but this anthem sounded pretty good. The only thing I noticed was they cut the St. Anne (O God our help in ages past) verse at the end, but that was probably to shorten the piece, as the priest had already sat down and everyone was waiting. This is why back when I was cantoring, I always did the anthem first and then the communion hymn, since I didn't mind cutting the hymn if we didn't need that much filler music.

New organist

Whilst sitting in the pews perusing the service leaflet and the parish newsletter this morning, I found the very formal announcement that my friend John had been engaged as organist of the parish. How exciting! What was particularly fun, though, was during the Peace, I discovered him sitting just two pews behind me.

The Mass setting this morning at St. Paul's was Communion Service in E-flat (Missa de Santo Albano) by Healey Willan, all sung by the choir. The choir also did the Anglican chant for the psalm, this time a chant by Edward Bairstow. The congregation joined in chanting the Creed and the Lord's Prayer, as always, plus the usual responses.

Opening hymn was Oriel (To the Name of our salvation), Bourbon (Take up your cross) was the sequence, Picardy (Let all mortal flesh) showed up as the post-communion ablutions hymn, and the recessional hymn was all six verses of Coronation (All hail the power of Jesus' name).

For the offertory, the choir sang "O God, thou art my God" by Henry Purcell. It included a closing alleluia section that was the familiar melody from the hymn Westminster Abbey. The communion motet was "Tantum ergo Sacramentum" by Maurice Duruflé. Duruflé also composed the postlude today, Fugue sur le thème du carillon des heures de la cathédral de Soissons, Op. 12. The prelude had been "After an Old French Air" by Percy Whitlock.

There was sherry in the parish hall after Mass.

Drizzly feast days

The remnants of that tropical storm have moved up the Atlantic coast and D.C. is getting a constant drizzle from it. Nothing hard, but enough that I needed an umbrella this morning lest I get wet on the walk to church. I've not done laundry in a month, so all my casual clothes were dirty and I had to put on a jacket and tie, thus I landed at St. Paul's K Street (one can dress like a slob at Catholic Masses, but a gentleman must be properly attired at an Episcopal service).

Today is the Feast of the Most Holy and Undivided Trinity. Naturally, they opened the service with the well-known hymn Nicaea (Holy, holy, holy). Other hymns included Rustington (Round the Lord in glory seated) for the sequence and Shipston (Firmly I believe and truly) post-communion. For the Mass setting, they did Paul Callaway's Communion Service in D, sung in unison by the congregation. Anglican chant by Richard Farrant, also sung by all in unison, accompanied the psalm.

The women and girls of the choir sang "Give ear unto me, Lord" by Benedetto Marcello as the offertory anthem and "Duo seraphim clamabant alter ad alterum" by Richard Dering as the communion motet. The basses and tenors got to sit around this morning. I think they are singing Evensong tonight with the boys, though.

The fun part of the Mass happened after the post-communion prayer and final blessing when the entire choir and congregation sang the plainsong version of the Te Deum not only with full festal organ, but with two well-stoked thuribles up in the sanctuary generating billowing clouds of smoke.

Having sung all the Te Deum, there was no recessional hymn, and the altar party departed during the postlude, Bach's "Fuga a 5 con pedale pro Organo pleno," BWV 552/2 ("St. Anne").

There's big news at St. Paul's today, too. Music director Mark Dwyer is resigning at the end of the summer to become organist/choirmaster at Church of the Advent in Boston. And organist Scott Dettra is leaving this summer to become organist at the National Cathedral. We should be getting a new organist soon; they're planning an international search for the music director's post, predicting it'll take about a year.

Then I walked home in the rain.

Happy Whitmonday!

This is Whitmonday, the day after Whitsunday.

What in the world am I talking about? Whitsunday is one of the great, ancient feast days of the Church, occurring fifty days after Easter. Whitmonday used to be a public holiday in England, but, alas, they've been forced into something like our Monday Holiday Bill, and now it's the last Monday of May (which coincides with Whitmonday this year).

So, what is it? Outside of England, Whitsuntide is known as the season of Pentecost. Depending upon the flavor of church, yesterday was either the Solemnity of Pentecost or the Feast of Pentecost. And yet, what is Pentecost, you say?

Pentecost is the observance of the events described in the Acts of the Apostles, a book in the Christian New Testament and Bible, where the followers of the recently executed Jesus were gathered in a room, the room filled with the rushing winds, and tongues of fire descended upon each of them. This was interpreted as the time when the Holy Spirit descended upon each of them, filling them and giving each of them the ability to speak in other languages.

This has a lot of symbolism for the modern Church, especially the idea of baptism by fire and the "gift of tongues," leading many in the charismatic branches of the church to demonstrate their faith by mumbling the unintelligible gibberish they call "speaking in tongues."

But, what I like to focus on and think about is the rushing wind; it's an important symbol usually overlooked in the idea of Pentecost. Let's look at the second chapter of Acts, verse two. In the New American Bible (the Catholic version), it says, "And suddenly there came from the sky a noise like a strong driving wind, and it filled the entire house in which they were." In the King James Version (the Protestant version), it says, "And suddenly there came a sound from heaven as of a rushing mighty wind, and it filled all the house where they were sitting."

While we're thinking about Bible verses, let me throw out another passage, and I'll explain the link later. Here are the first two verses of the Gospel according to St. John. "In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. The same was in the beginning with God." (KJV) "In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God." (NAB)

Now, there's one more think I want to throw out. I'm big on looking at "original source material" when doing scholarly research—it's the professor in me—so when talking about Biblical matters, I want to study the Aramaic, Hebrew, and Greek that were the original languages of the written books of the Bible. Most of the New Testament, especially John and Acts, originally were written in Greek. When we look at the Greek here, as it talks about the Holy Spirit, the Greek doesn't use the word for "spirit," or even "ghost," as it was commonly translated by the Jacobean English. It uses the word πνεύμα, pronounced "pneuma." You may be familiar with pneuma as the root word for things like "pneumatic" or "pneumonia." "Pneuma" means "breath." We don't have as a part of the Holy Trinity a holy spirit or ghost or spector, we have a "Holy Breath." The Breath of God.

Think of all the ways the Breath of God comes into our lives. If you look at the quote above from John, how is the word—language—carried? On the breath. When we give someone artificial respiration, what do we do? We breathe into them and fill them with our breath. When someone dies, what happens? Their breath leaves them, sometimes quite dramatically. Even with tongues of fire, what does fire need to keep burning? Oxygen/air/wind/breath. With this emphasis on breath and wind, it's easy to see how early man attributed wind storms, tornados, and hurricanes as expressions of displeasure of the god(s). We also have that wind in the overall concept of our idllyic settings—the breeze gently rustling through the trees or keeping the palms trees gently swaying—whereby our environment and life is filled with the Holy Breath.

People for millennia have asked the questions about what makes Man animate, intelligent, and special. They have developed the concept of a "soul" for Man. Those in the Abramaic tradition—Jews, Christians, and Muslims—believe that it is the "soul" that makes Man better than other animals and why only humans and not other animals go to Heaven (no, Virginia, all dogs do NOT go to heaven). This idea of Man being filled with some special energy or force or breath is not unique to the Abramaic religions. It appears in religious traditions all over the world, whether it be the "spirit" in all living things of many American Indian tribes or the ancient Egyptian ka that provided the life force for all living things (the motivation for mummies was so the ka could reunite with the physical body in the afterworld). Is all of this just different manifestations of the concept of the Holy Breath?

Thus, all of this brings us around to the idea of creation stories. Let's look again at the Bible, this time, the first few verses of Genesis. "In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth. And the earth was without form, and void; and darkness was upon the face of the deep. And the Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters. And God said...." (KJV) "In the beginning, when God created the heavens and the earth, the earth was a formless wasteland, and darkness covered the abyss, while a mighty wind swept over the waters. Then God said...." (NAB) There it is again, the Breath as Spirit and Wind and Word, in our very creation.

This is what Pentecost is all about. Sure, it's a celebration of Jesus's followers receiving the Holy Spirit, but, to me at least, it is, more importantly, a Feast of the Holy Spirit.

_________________________

Yesterday I celebrated the Solemnity of Pentecost by going to the nine o'clock Mass at St. Stephen Martyr. Since the choir performs at the eleven o'clock, this was just a cantored Mass with organ.

The processional hymn was Lambillotte (Come, Holy Ghost, Creator blest), Veni Sancte Spiritus, Mode I plainsong, was the sequence hymn, Down Ampney (Come down, O Love divine) was the offertory hymn, Dieu, Nous Avons Vu Ta Gloire (God, Your glory we have seen in Your Christ) was the communion hymn, and Nun komme der Heiden Heiland (Fire of God, undying flame) was the recessional hymn.

They did Martin How's Parish Communion Service Gloria, Howard Hughes' Mass of the Divine Word for all the Sanctus and communion acclamations, and plainsong chants for the Kyrie and Agnus Dei. The psalm antiphon and the Gospel acclamation were compositions of the organist/choirmaster.

Monsignor was celebrant and homilist. I've no idea what he said in the homily, since I wasn't listening. It was no fault of his; I just immediately grabbed a hymnal when he started because I wanted to look up some things, and that occupied the homily time. I did notice, though, that when we was at the ambo (a/k/a pulpit), the lighting there made his red chasuble glow. An interesting analogy to the fire theme of the day, eh?

Baccalaureate Mass

Commencement weekend at Georgetown started wrapping up today with a 9 a.m. Baccalaureate Mass outside on Healy Lawn. I was surprised how many students came and didn't look hung over at all! There was also a big crowd of family members sitting in the back section.

A professional organist, brass quintet, and typanist provided music for the ceremony, and I was very pleased to hear them singing proper hymns and anthems instead of some of the awful "St. Louis Jesuits" music—in fact, other than the communion hymns, the music sounded positively Anglican this morning (of course, everyone knows that Anglicans/Episcopalians do the best liturgical music these days). Since my friend Drew has been serving as the Student Director of Liturgy this past year, I wonder if he had anything to do with the great music?

As we in the faculty began to process into the seating area itself, we began to be pelted with huge drops of rain! The rain was short-lived, though, and stopped by the time we got to the Gloria.

The processional hymn was Lasst uns erfreuen (A hymn of glory let us sing!) and the recessional hymn was Sine Nomine (Go to the world!). Somebody likes Vaughn-Williams. During communion, they did a couple of hymns I didn't know, "No Greater Love" by Joncas and "Take and Eat This Bread" by O'Brien. The Mass setting was the too-familiar Haugen Mass of Creation (they only have the Gather hymnal in the pews in the college chapel).

Drew conducted the small chapel choir during the offertory and communion anthems, and I was quite impressed with what he'd done with them, especially since he was a sociology major/government minor. For the offertory, they did "If Ye Love Me" by Thomas Tallis and for communion, they did a Proulx arrangement of Thaxted called "O Spirit All-Embracing."


Drew conducting the choir.

After Mass, we processed directly to the Leavey Center Ballroom for the Commencement Brunch.