{Book Club: The Spirit of the Liturgy}
- I hope you will read along in this book club (or just read my posts, that’s okay): Joseph Ratzinger’s The Spirit of the Liturgy.
- (When you buy something via our Amazon affiliate link, a little cash rolls our way… just a little. Thanks!)
- I’ll post on Fridays, although for this longer book, perhaps not every Friday. I’ll give you your homework, I’ll talk about what we read, we’ll discuss in the comments. Even if you read later, the comments will still be open.
Previously:
Introduction to the reading: Joseph Ratzinger’s The Spirit of the Liturgy: A Book Club for Easter and Beyond
Nature or history in worship? Or both?
The Relationship of the Liturgy to Time and Space: preliminary questions
The Reservation of the Blessed Sacrament
Homework: Read Chapter One of Part IV: Rite
Chapter Two, Part III: Music and Liturgy
If you are under the impression that music is a tidy little subject with a take-it-or-leave-it sort of character, like flowers by the altar, I'm here to tell you that such is not the case.
I've said before, I'm impressed that Joseph Ratzinger crammed many, many thoughts about music in general and sacred music in particular into one chapter. It's kind of breathless, isn't it?
Everything he writes about music speaks to two main points, one of which is not quite spelled out; that would be the question of whether music exists — is it objective? Does it correspond to something outside of us? Is it real? Does it arise solely from creativity as we think of it today — a sort of almost random expression of what we happen to be feeling?
We can trace this question to an emphasis in recent Church documents on the “gathering” aspect of music in worship (Mt 18:20). How easy it has become for some to move from “gather in my Name” to “become a sort of institution that chooses its own way.”
The other question makes up the heart of the chapter: What is music in worship and is it integral?
I think there is that kind of curmudgeonly pious person (very much in the Catholic Church — don't know if the same type is found in Protestant circles) whose take on music is “I much prefer no music! Just leave me alone to pray.”
It's an understandable reaction to the liturgical music landscape that Joseph P. Swain in his book, Sacred Treasure, calls “a desert of mediocrity.” But is it the right reaction? Is music dispensable?
Well.
To answer the first question, I would suggest that you read David Clayton's The Way of Beauty, an excellent primer on the mathematics of music and how said mathematics, well known to the ancients, are actually the bridge between the world of abstract ideas and the world of created beauty. In fact, one could argue (but would be foolish to attempt to do so in a blog post) that without music we cannot escape preference (mere taste and its subsequent degeneration into meaninglessness). With music, we can confidently create and recognize beauty in the world and in history, including the present time.
Ratzinger begins at a different point — more in the midst of the second question, which relates to music in liturgy.
In the first few pages of the chapter, he argues that to sing is precisely to transcend the spoken word — and to escape death, which is the goal of worship: union with God beyond this earth.
I love this main point of his, the key to all he thinks about music:
Yes, singing, the surpassing of ordinary speech, is a “pneumatic” event… a gift of the Spirit… It is above all in Church music that the “sober inebriation” of faith takes place — an inebriation surpassing all the possibilities of mere rationality. (P. 140)
Again, he speaks of Logos — of that transcendent Word, of meaning, in which we are united with God, who in turn has a nuptial (wedding) union with His Church. (P. 142)
All religions use music. But we have to understand history well enough to know that they precisely use it — for a purpose, which is to effect a release from human nature. And today there is another phenomenon, which is the corruption of popular music.
On the one hand… pop music… is aimed at the phenomenon of the masses, is industrially produced, and ultimately has to be described as a cult of the banal… on the other hand… at rock festivals it assumes a cultic character, a form of worship, in fact, in opposition to Christian worship… People are, so to speak, released from themselves by the experience… However, in the ecstasy of having all their defenses torn down, the participants sink, as it were, beneath the elemental force of the universe. The music of the Holy Spirit's sober inebriation seems to have little chance when self has become a prison, the mind is a shackle, and breaking out from both appears as a true promise of redemption that can be tasted at least for a few moments. (P. 148)
You might say that in exalting (but also manipulating) popular music (which of course, if it is truly from the people, has its authentic place) man ends by giving into animal nature as a form of release.
The point of sacred music, however, is to bring human nature into the divine realm as a fulfillment.
Here Ratzinger offers a brilliant device for understanding the divide, the immense gulf, between the conception of music as an expression of something above man and the view of music as an tool of the Will, which the modern era has buried within man and ultimately, found as not separable from him. This view devolves into feelings and ultimately, degradation.
And that device is what he calls “the Apollonian/Dionysian alternative” which “runs through the whole history of religion and confronts us again today. Not every kind of music can have a place in Christian worship. It has its standards, and that standard is the Logos.” (P. 151)
Earlier on page 150 he explains the analogy:
Plato ascribes, in line with mythology, [music] to Apollo, the god of light and reason. This is the music that draws senses into spirit and so brings man to wholeness. It does not abolish the senses, but inserts them into the unity of this creature that is man… uniting them with the spirit. Thus this kind of music is an expression of man's special place in the general structure of being.
But then there is the music… that we might describe, in terms of [liturgical] history, as “Dionysian”. It drags man into the intoxication of the senses, crushes rationality, and subjects the spirit to the senses.
When we think of the divine realm, we must understand that the music is already going on!
Ratzinger points us to Scripture: “the liturgy is echoing… the vision of God in Isaiah chapter 6… the prophet sees the throne of God, protected by the seraphim, who call to one another: “Holy, holy, holy is the Lord of hosts… In the celebration of Holy Mass, we insert ourselves into this liturgy… All our singing is a singing and praying with the great liturgy that spans the whole of creation.” (P. 151-152)
It is here on page 152 that Ratzinger touches upon the importance of number, of the physics of the planets, of the order of the universe.
The music made by man must… be taken from the inner music and order of the universe, be inserted into the “fraternal song” of the “fraternity of the spheres”. The beauty of music depends on its conformity to the rhythmic and harmonic laws of the universe.
So, the problem we have today is that those in charge of our music are also attempting to achieve in us this sense of release/ecstasy/feeling. They are utterly committed to the Dionysian form of music. At best (from our point of view), their “art” is banal, merely serving to break up silences. At worst, it renders Guardini's “spiritual silence” of the liturgy impossible.
I could go on.
Instead, let me give a couple of examples, one bad and two good.
In the aforementioned Sacred Treasure (a new book about sacred music that I am currently reading), Joseph P. Swain examines the “impoverished,” “relentlessly regular,” “nursery singsong” “Celtic Alleluia” which perhaps many of you are routinely subjected to have heard.
This “Celtic Alleluia” requires of you that you have a certain disposition when you hear or sing it — it assumes a cheerfulness that you may or may not be experiencing — and it also enforces a response.
It wants you to march (due to its “swinging triples”). It is not universal in its character — on the contrary, it's incredibly specific to a time and a place (and I'm not sure that the place is Celtic at all). It imposes its will on you. You might initially respond to it positively. Please listen to it a few times and begin imagining how you would feel if you were at Mass having just had a miscarriage, or had had fight with your boss, or had just remembered something you did as a teenager that you are ashamed of, or had invited a friend from Ghana or Iran or Singapore.
Many people find chant off-putting. But bear with me here.
In contrast to that Alleluia above, plainchant has no defined meter. Its rhythm is at the service of its words, but is also united to them. It is mystical and is only used in liturgical applications — thus, it fits the “otherness” of the liturgy, the way the gold of the chalice fits, and the silk of the vestments.
For instance, you can't imagine it being used in a Broadway play (my own personal test of whether music is sacred!), except precisely to evoke the sacred.
It doesn't demand anything in particular of you, and thus it is able to be universal — a grieving mother or a happy child or a thoughtful old man can equally enter into its call.
Here is the most common simple tone (IV) Gregorian alleluia that you might be familiar with:
(Ironically, I couldn't find any other example on You Tube other than this one that goes with a missalette, which of course is otherwise almost exclusively comprising what I'd call bad liturgical music! But this chant is nicely done. Note her relaxed tone.)
And here is an Alleluia from the Mass of St. Philip Neri, composed by our dear friend Paul Jernberg. It's more Byzantine in its chant style, and it is also polyphonic. But it retains the characteristics of chant in that its meter is free and it is sung in a relaxed, un-Dionysian manner. (This is at my church and you will see Bridget there in front on the left with the scarf! I was there but sat this one out as I had a cough.)
*Edited to add: A couple of notes. This recording is an early one of the Mass of St. Philip Neri, and yes, it could be better. But. First, I was searching here for examples of chant that you might actually hear at Mass, both good and bad, but basically singable by the congregation. Go here for a professional recording of this Mass. Second, music in real life is almost always “imperfect” and that's okay. It's the recording of it that makes it seem not quite right. We always sing in the choir loft. The acoustics are amazing from there. From down here in front of the sanctuary, the sound is different and harder to control. That in itself is a good object lesson, I think! Finally, Joseph P. Swain says in his book that the “folk revival” tunes are literally impossible to sing correctly, whether being done by amateurs or the best musicians imaginable, because they are based on an odd aesthetic of “spontaneity.” Below I will add two more lovely examples from Paul.
Maybe listen a few times and imagine yourself in those circumstances I threw out above, for each of these examples.
Clarifying, isn't it?
I leave you with a few quotes:
“Is Liturgy primarily latreutic, concerned with the adoration of God, or is it first and foremost didactic or edificatory, the conscious vehicle of instruction of individuals and the upbuilding of a community? – Aidan Nichols, OP
“Liturgy can only be liturgy to the extent that it is beyond the manipulation of those who celebrate it.” – Joseph Ratzinger
“Humble submission to what goes before us releases authentic freedom and leads us to the true summit of our vocation as human beings.” – Joseph Ratzinger, p. 156.
{Palestrina's Sicut Cervus, a polyphonic setting of Psalm 42, one of the most sublime works of sacred music of all time.}
*Here are some more examples of chant for an actual congregation:
Paul Jernberg conducting the Alleluia that is sung by the Trivium School at morning prayers (again, not this exaltedly, but very nicely indeed).
His “Solemn Alleluia” from the Mass of St. Philip Neri — one that could be sung at a high Mass with a good choir.
Questions? Comments? I’d love to hear from you!
(Emphases added in quotes are mine.)
Click here to see our previous discussion of Romano Guardini’s The Spirit of the Liturgy, which you can read free, online. You can also purchase it here, although be warned, this edition does not have the footnotes, which stinks.
Lisa G. says
If God were anyone but God, He would surely be depressed at the way things have declined. 🙁
Leila says
I mean, it is depressing. And demoralizing. God is God. We need to snap out of our ridiculous sandbox mentality!
Lisa G. says
You are right, and I think I’ve made this remark here before; to read of how much better it could be, and how far that is from what it actually is, drags one down. But! I was just reading Deirdre’s link to the Crisis article about alternatives to the Benedict Option, and the quote from Pope Ratzinger, “to do all we can with what strength we have”, reminded me that there is another way of looking at it!
Courtney says
I’m musically trained (a music teacher in fact) and I’ve really been thinking about all this lately. At my exclusively Breaking Bread parish people complain that they want to her the more contemporary music. But I think that’s just because the music that is played is out of style (70s-80s). Liturgical music shouldn’t go out of style. So how does one start correcting this?
Leila says
The first step is to get some criteria for decision-making, which means — READ THIS BOOK! (You knew I’d say that haha).
Seriously, the answer is in the chapter, in the last line which is my last quote there: Every church document on music tells us the same thing: Have a humble desire to recover the treasures of the church, accept poverty (in this case, of “creativity”), and learn the principles of sacred music. From that — and TRUE worship — a new creativity will flow.
BridgetAnn says
Music! Sacred music! Yay!
“When we think of the divine realm, we must understand that the music is already going on!” Wow.
As for music being mathematical, one of our assignments in college was to compose our own sonata, based on one of Mozart’s; using a purely intellectual/mathematical understanding of music, it was rather simple for one’s piece to turn out pleasing to the ear.
Also in college, I stumbled upon a wonderful talk given by a Fr. Basil Nortz on Music and Morality. A very well researched and persuasive argument on the importance of ordered music (lyrics being somewhat accidental), especially, of course, sacred music. He identifies three components- melody (corresponding to the intellect in man), harmony (emotions) & rhythm (body). As man must subject his body and emotions to his reason, so too must music be subject to the melody, not only for its own sake but to avoid ill effects on the listener. (Not surprisingly, he also has a talk titled “What’s Wrong with Rock and Roll?” 🙂
As regards the history of liturgical music, he says that Gregorian chant (melody only) used to be the only musical form permitted; sacred polyphony (adding harmony & thus an emotional component) was later allowed, acknowledging that the arousal of certain emotions was permissible in a sacred context.
I’ve since found my own copy and it looks like its also available here: opusangelorum.org. Well worth the investment.
And I LOVE the “Sicut Cervus”!
Tia says
I had a housemate in college who belonged to a Balinese Gamelan. Goodness that music sounded so intensely disorganized and just plain unmusical to me! And yet, people whose ears are trained to like that music certainly do find it pleasing and uplifting, and my roommate was quick to point out the ordering and structure in it, though of course most of that argument went over my non-musical head.
Same goes for typical Indian ragas, which I grew up listening to and which sound quite beautiful to me, but which I’ve taken friends to only to see them fall asleep halfway through.
So I guess what I’m wondering is how does this unavoidable fact — that indeed musical ear and taste is at least somewhat trained by culture — sort of live comfortably with what we all suspect is true — namely that there IS good music and bad music, both sacred and ordinary, and that sacred music should indeed have some common thread no matter the culture in which it occurs? Is it really just that all sacred forms of music will have some element of chant? Or perhaps I am misunderstanding….
Leila says
Tia, keep in mind the distinction: music in general and SACRED music, which MUST have certain elements (and must NOT have certain elements) in order to be fitting for worship. That means that we can appreciate many forms of music in the world (and reject some, no doubt about it). And it even means that some forms we are not familiar with might have ways in which they can be incorporated into liturgy — “inculturation”.
Remember this that Cardinal Sarah, the African bishop and head of the Congregation for Divine Worship, recently said: “I am an African. Let me say clearly: the liturgy is not the place to promote my culture. Rather, it is the place where my culture is baptised, where my culture is taken up into the divine. Through the Church’s liturgy (which missionaries have carried throughout the world) God speaks to us, He changes us and enables us to partake in His divine life.”
Read the whole article:
http://www.newliturgicalmovement.org/2016/07/cardinal-sarah-on-incorporation-of.html#.V68SND4rIew
This chapter really contains so many answers. We just have to keep re-reading it, because the concepts involved have escaped our culture.
Really quickly: will there still be creativity? YES!
Will we need to recover the beautiful works of the past? Yes — learn the chants, listen to Palestrina, Byrd, Victoria. Immerse yourself in the masters who expressed the mind of the church. Then think about today.
Leila says
BridgetAnn,
A few notes to your excellent comment: Yes, it’s possible for a not-particularly-musical person to produce pleasing music. I thought it was important that Ratzinger did mention that music must not be produced according to a formula! Not for the Mass! For an elevator, maybe 🙂 (And it is, make no mistake — most of the music we listen to today is utterly formulaic and that is part of the problem!)
Your point is that the elements are not impossibly difficult, as many seem to think. So true. And then we have to have creativity — that uniquely human ability for subcreation. We’ve lost BOTH these criteria — technique and the “spark” — and so we are left in a musical K-mart.
Your professor sounds amazing. I’d add to his analysis another aspect, which is the one that connects music to “eternal harmonies” or you might say to the objective existence of the harmonic — in mathematics, in physics. This can all be found in Boethius and Pythagoras. Yes, there’s order within good music — but there is also order that connects it to what is outside of it.
Ultimately, it’s what makes for beauty: proportion and order and the creative spark that knows how to push the boundaries in a way that doesn’t harm them but that makes them even more real. In this way, music is the key to beauty in other arts: when a building shows “harmony” and order in its proportions, it is pleasing, and you can analyze all those elements using the proportions that give us harmony and order in music. But — not the other way around! (Read David’s book, linked in the post, for a proper explanation of all of this!)
Ratzinger outlines here the development of sacred music. Chant indeed was the only form permitted. Polyphony was allowed (but note his comments on THAT development! Very interesting corrective for those who think that “old” = “good”!). And yes, polyphony does rouse emotions, but in an “Apollonian” way — in a way that is restrained and serene. Thus, its inclusion goes beyond the idea that “some emotional involvement is okay”.
First, emotions are part of human nature, so yes. This is not begrudging. This is wisdom to see that devotion is good.
Second, polyphony, because it is harmonic, relates to the mathematical realities of the universe, the cosmos. It expands what Ratzinger is always calling “the cosmic dimension of liturgy.”
And yes, sacred music will always be more chant-like than metrical. That is why hymns are not actually considered sacred music! My personal opinion: The best hymns are so exaltedly devotional that they have a place right before and right after Mass (as Introit and Recessional). I have to study this more, but I think that including hymns (not all!) will benefit worship, as long as they do not replace the Propers of the Mass…
Rock and Roll per se isn’t bad. (Some kinds of rock I’d argue are just bad — but I don’t want to listen to them so I would be out of my depth discussing this. I know bad music when I hear it LOL.) Lots of fun things are fine. In their place.