Apologies for my long absence here… I was sorry to be away from the blogosphere for the exciting event of the Holy Father’s visit to America, but the Doctor and I were on a house-hunting trip and had little access to the internet. (We’re packing our bags and moving north in about six weeks. This is the life of young academics.) Since then I’ve been burning the midnight oil to finish an academic project, which I finally did. The Doctor hasbeen patiently eating a lot of takeout and fast food over the last week or so. Anyway, I have more to say about the Holy Father’s visit (and many thanks to Iosephus for covering it in a more timely fashion) but first of all I wanted to say a few words about the Solemn High Tridentine Latin Mass that our Traditional community celebrated last Sunday.
First of all: it was a full house. Packed, even. The church officially holds 450, but we filled the overflow and had people standing. For a town like Knoxville, TN — hardly the most Catholic region of America — this was an accomplishment. There were plenty who didn’t think it would ever happen, and it warmed the heart to see the skeptics proven wrong. Sadly, we don’t get to celebrate the Latin Mass in this lovely church every week, but it’s a good thing we weren’t in our usual venue for this Mass. We’d have had to turn hundreds away.
The Mass itself was done with all proper solemnity. The priests wore brand new, recently-purchased gold Roman vestments. Our dear pastor, Fr. John Orr, said the Mass and also delivered a lovely homily, and our trusty master of ceremonies, Michael Garner, managed to keep everybody else in their right places. The Knights of Columbus provided a color guard for the processional and recessional, which was indeed colorful. The deacon, whom I had never seen before, turned out to have an excellent singing voice. And, oh yes, the Doctor made his contribution too, by sitting in the front pew where the rest of the congregation could follow him in standing, sitting and kneeling!
Altogether it was quite splendid — I expect many people were seeing the TLM for the first time, and I was proud that they could see it in such good form. Henry Edwards, the pillar of our Latin Mass community, even produced beautiful little booklets containing the ordinary and propers in an easy-to-follow format for newcomers. (Actually, he was the point man for almost all the organizational details of this happy day, so hats off to Henry Edwards! I’m certain the Mass would never have happened without him.)
Of course, I got the bird’s eye view of the whole thing from the choir loft, where we were packed as tight as sardines, with an orchestra and a full choir. Under the direction of Mary Frazier Garner, we sang the Mozart Coronation Mass for the ordinary and had a men’s schola for the propers. To you, my dear readers, I will be frank: had I been offered my heart’s desire, I wouldn’t have picked the Mozart — something a little more traditional, Palestrina say, would have been my preference. I get a little suspicious about singing music composed by a Mason at Mass. Nonetheless, it was rather nice how we did the Mozart at the very time of the Holy Father’s visit (since he’s know to be such a fan.) Also, the Coronation Mass is a good choice for a choir of largely-inexperienced singers. It’s pretty, but not very difficult to learn. On the whole I thought we pulled it off fairly well, so I’ll swallow my quibbles and just offer up a prayer for Mozart’s soul.
One thing that did sadden me a bit was the attitude that much of the choir seemed to take towards the Mass as a whole. Most were not Traditional Catholics — the choir had drawn singers from all the surrounding parishes — so they naturally don’t have the same attachment to the TLM that our little community choir has. All the same, I would have liked to see them take a bit more interest in the liturgy. I was more than ready to assist my neighbors in following along… but as it turned out, none of them seemed to want to. I tried sharing my missal with the woman next to me, but she ignored me. Like most of the New Norms, she held nothing but her music throughout the Mass, studying it between the parts of the ordinary as if waiting for the “performance” to continue. In their defense, it was extremely hot and cramped in the loft, and shuffling between books was difficult. Even so, I could not but feel that they hadn’t all completely registered that we were singing for a Mass. Or do they do the same in their home parishes?
That thought made me reflect, as I often have before, on how good it is to put choirs at the back of the church. Novus parishes and Protestant churches often put them in the front, and it always makes me cringe to see it. Take it from a choir veteran: it makes a big difference. Standing at the front makes you feel like a performer. Of course that happens to some degree anyway — it’s necessary to concentrate on the music in order to sing it well. Particularly when a piece is new, or technically difficult, the singer will inevitably be giving a good portion of his mind over to pitch, tempo and other such mundane things, while the congregation is hopefully focused on more sublime realities. I expect something similar is true of priests in their early months or years of saying Mass — a large part of their concentration is probably given over to the rubrics, to pronouncing the Latin correctly, and so forth. And there is nothing wrong with that in itself. If our aim is a fitting celebration of the Mass, then our intentions are rightly ordered, and God will reward any pains that we take for His sake. But in that case, it’s all the more important that we try to direct such efforts towards God’s glory and not our own!
We talk about this more with reference to priests celebrating the Mass versus populum, and I imagine most of us have seen firsthand the ill effects that this can have on some priests. I certainly have seen some who too obviously enjoyed being the center of attention at Mass, smiling genially at the congregation and speaking with exaggerated emphases as though they were game show hosts. Celebrating Mass ad orientem allows priests to direct their attention towards more important things. But, having established that, it’s worth noting that a similar principle holds for choirs too. When I’m looking the congregation in the face I feel that I am singing to and for them. Singing from the back, I know that nobody’s looking at me and, more importantly, my eyes can be fixed on the altar. Then I know that I’m singing for Jesus, and for the community only secondarily.
Anyway, it was a good day for the Knoxville Latin Mass Society. Hopefully some seeds were planted in the souls of our visitors that, in time, may bear good fruit.
** Credit for the excellent photos goes to Roy Ehman, Our Lady of Fatima, Alcoa

St. Louis-Marie de Montfort,
Pope St. Pius X,
St. Joseph,
St. Ambrose of Milan,
St. Thomas Aquinas,
St. Francis (and St. Clare),
St. Catherine of Siena,
St. Alphonsus Ligouri,
St. John Chrysostom,
Nice point! Not only is the choir at the back, it’s also ad orientem.
Clara,
And when I opened the post, I was all prepared to excoriate you for not mentioning Henry.
Shame on me!
Good report.
“All the same, I would have liked to see them take a bit more interest in the liturgy. I was more than ready to assist my neighbors in following along… but as it turned out, none of them seemed to want to.”
When I started singing at Latin Masses as a young professional musician 15-odd years ago, I spent at least half a year with no desire at all to look at a missal and make sure I had all the translations and descriptions sorted out. It was a full-time job just absorbing the liturgy, getting used to this beautiful and unfamiliar phenomenon. Later on, when it was more familiar, I started studying the texts and following them carefully during Mass. This brought me to a new level of understanding I frankly wouldn’t have been ready for during the early days.
I’d almost advise first-time Old Rite visitors - including (or especially?) singers - to skip the missal and simply take in the experience in an unmediated form.
Any other views on this?
I concur with andreas about the need to “acclimatize” as it were, to the old Liturgy. Clara, you might give those other impious singers a bit more of a benefit of the doubt, no? It’s hard to decide what’s motivating others … and doubly hard to tease out by observation what exactly amounts to profitable participation in the Mass.
Well, I don’t think I accused anyone of impiety exactly, just inattention. But while I appreciate your efforts, as usual, to be charitable, I think I might deserve the benefit of the doubt in this case, as an observer of human behavior. Though it’s admittedly not always easy to read what’s going on within another’s soul, we can sometimes draw inferences. It wouldn’t be reasonable to assume that a person wasn’t “profitably participating” in the Mass just because he wasn’t using a missal. But a person who was sleeping, reading a paperback, or sending text messages, would be pretty obviously not giving his full attention to the liturgy. And though I didn’t want to belabor the point with a lengthy description of every sign of inattentiveness, I think my general impression was pretty well substantiated.
Just for a few more examples… I was amused to see that most of the choir was inclined to stand and sit, not according to the rubrics of the Mass, but just in keeping with the times when we were supposed to sing. I got odd looks from some of my neighbors when I stood up at a time when we weren’t about to sing, as though they’d forgotten that they were also at Mass. In between parts of the ordinary, I saw singers poring over the music, mentally reviewing our next part, not giving a glance to anything happening down below, though in fact we had rather a nice view of everything. When I and my few fellow Latin Mass friends actually spoke the responses in the appropriate places, we got a few semi-surprised glances, almost seeming to say, “oh, were we supposed to do that too?” You get the idea. I’m not saying that they’re evil people, but this is always a possible pitfall when you spend a lot of time rehearsing music to sing for a Mass (as we did). In the singers’ minds it becomes a performance first and a Mass only secondarily. Which was what got me reflecting on the general topic, because it would certainly be possible to fall into that mindset all the time if you began thinking of yourself as first and foremost a church musician. Had the singers been craning their necks with curiosity to see what was happening below, it wouldn’t have bothered me that they weren’t following their programs, but it is a little sad to see someone coming to a TLM for the first time, and not even bothering to look up out of their music.
I actually agree with much of what Andreas says, and I appreciated those comments. But we’re conflating two issues here. One is the question for how best to “acclimatize” to the TLM if you’ve never been before. The other concerns how best to impress on the musicians’ minds that, even though they’re making music, they aren’t performers, and they aren’t there for entertainment.
I guess my point was … maybe it’s not so profitable to point out these things, even if true, to the anonymous blog reading public?
I should also say, though, that it’s great y’all had the Mass, and I do most certainly concur with your point about placement of choirs; though I can find the choir loft pretty removed — for me, the temptation is to feel like a mere observer of the Mass, to watch the people below, rather than to participate in the Sacred Mysteries. This was a particular problem back when I was an organist, alone in the loft; the steady requirement of concentration to sing the gregorian propers and ordinary mostly has cured me of this bad habit.
One more point in my defense - in the original post, the only evidence you offered of the visiting chorister’s uninterest was their fixation on their music and rebuffing of your proffered Missal. Reading a paperback is another thing entirely from concentrating on the hard music which you’re about to sing. In the music case, a sound charitable case could be made of a person wishing merely to sing well and, in this, thinking little of their own “chance” to see a new kind of Mass, inchoately intuiting that the Mass will proceed whether or not they, you know, DO anything themselves and concluding — albeit a bit weirdly — that they should attend to their duties and the priest and people downstairs will to theirs and all will work itself out; a way of thinking alien to me and clearly to you, but one within the realm of possibility.
I guess this is a point I’ve been considering quite a lot lately, as the director of our little schola has often emphasized the preeminence of our duties in the choir qua singers over our perfect following of the process of the Mass; a kind of participation more akin to, say, the thurifer, who can scarcely pray while he runs about swinging a heavy thurible! I’m not convinced that this is the right way to see it, but it’s not an indefensible understanding of the role of the (small subset of worshipers who are) singers.
Well, that’s an interesting question — to what degree are the musicians “singers first” as opposed to regular participants in the Mass? Obviously the singing does affect your prayerful participation to some degree, because in a lot of places where you would have been praying or reading your missal, you’re singing instead, or getting ready to sing. I’ve gotten better at doing both as I’ve gotten more used to the music, but there are still some regrets. I rarely get to read the preface because I’m always preparing to sing the Agnus Dei. I never get to pray after receiving Communion, because of course we’re immediately expected to sing, to help other people pray after they receive. So to some degree you are sacrificing yourself for the rest of the congregation, and I guess I think it would be right to say that singing trumps being a “perfect” follower of the Mass, but that you should still follow the Mass as best you can in the in-between times. So, for example, you should learn your music ahead of time so that you don’t need to be reviewing it during the homily or other parts of the Mass!
To me, participating in the rest of Mass seems important even for getting the most from the singing itself. When I think of myself as mainly a singer, I really do start feeling more like a performer, or hired help, just there to sing when I’m told. I’ve been in so many other singing groups, most of them secular, and this starts to seem like just another singing gig. But if I think of the singing as just one part of my assisting at the Mass, I can think of it as more seamlessly blending with my other prayers — so, for example, I can regard our Communion singing as a different kind of prayer/act of thanksgiving. As I said above, when I’m attending to the Mass as fully as possible, I find it easier to remember that we’re singing for God first and the people secondarily.
I also think, by the way, that it’s good whenever possible for choir members especially (and maybe also thurifers, altar servers, etc.!) to take some extra time after Mass to make up for whatever prayerful reflection they may have lost by fulfilling their duties within the Mass. I normally linger for five or ten minutes after Mass to make my private act of thanksgiving, and just to finish any personal prayers that may have been “interrupted” by my singing duties.
Clara,
I think you may have a Novus mindset about this. If I’m a security guard for my trad chapel stuck in the middle of the ghetto, do I serve my Sunday obligation if I spend most of my time in the parking lot watching for thieves and miscreants? The priest has his job, and we have ours.
Are you going to post on the FLDS raid in TX? What do you think? Is stuff going on in there worth this level of distress for the children? Can or should would try and stop every cult in the middle of the country? Will traditional homeschooling Catholics be next?
Some thoughts on the issues being discussed.
While it is good to strive to both fulfill one’s particular role at Mass and follow along attentively, that is a level of participation that only comes after years of constant repititon. And if a thurifer is more intent on getting his job done and done well than on the prayers of the Mass he is no less present and participatory than the person in the pew who follows every word and action in their missal. In fact, his role is more vital for without him there is no Solemn Mass. The same can be said of the choir member who is preoccupied with the music. To say otherwise is to fall in with those who have, for the past 40 odd years misunderstood “participatio actuosa.”
Another point to consider is that for some, many or most of the people in the choir it may have been a performance. One can never assume the reason a person is at Mass. Professional choirs that sing in cathedrals and shrines are made up of people who are not necessarily Catholic. They are there because it is a job and they get paid for it. They have the positions they have because they have auditioned and they have the skills necessary for the job. This might not be the ideal, but this is the reality. I can say factually that not all the organists and choir members of the National Shrine of the Immaculate Conception are or have been Catholic. But, because they are positioned in the sanctuary they all are taught proper rubrics and etiquette.
There is no rule or regulation that says organists, musicians, or choir members must be Catholic. Is it better that they be so? I think so. It would enhance their singing.
As to choir members, altar servers, etc. making up for missed prayerful reflection, there is no reason for this other than their own personal devotion. Prayer is always to be commended. But, performing their duties well is prayer. A Solemn Mass takes more than a priest. It takes a whole cohort of ministers working together in harmony as a whole, each doing their own job, and that job comes before anything else. For that job is a very high form of prayer, for it is a full and true participation in the offering of the Sacrifice of Christ.
We ought never question someone’s motives for being at Mass, but rather be glad they are there. Unless they are acting up or being disruptful in some way there is no need for us to be other than welcoming and gracious. If they seem to be haveing difficulty following along we ought to reach out and give a hand if we can do so unobtrusively. The rest we leave to God. Their lack of attention could be for any number of reasons… depression, pain, family trouble, at. al.
Too often Catholic play the judging game. If there was a prize we’d be hard pressed to determine a winner. Who does/doesn’t wear a chapel veil; who does/doesn’t receive communion; who does/doesn’t dress to “my” standards; who does/doesn’t go to Mass. I know of several people who don’t go to Mass because they don’t have what people consider “proper” clothing. I have heard confessions of sacriligious Communions made because people were afraid that if they didn’t receive they would be talked about. No sin committed in either case other than on the part of those who put the thoughts into these peoples heads.
I guess my point is this. Christ told us not to judge. He also told us to love one another. We need to do less of the first and more of the second.
The laity may have certain extra-ecclesial functions or obligations at Mass. For instance, the waterboarding of a wacko protestant interloper in the church basement shouldn’t be judged as “not participating” at Mass.
The people in this particular choir were all Catholic — they had been gathered from the surrounding parishes. I know from conversation at rehearsals that many had never been to a TLM before, or hadn’t been since before Vatican II. I suspect most of them were attracted mainly under the description “we’re singing Mozart” without much emphasis on the “at a Traditional Latin Mass” part. We were happy and grateful to have them, and it’s certainly better for them to come than not to come, but my own enjoyment of the occasion was just a bit dampened by feeling so abnormal in my efforts to appreciate the liturgy per se.
Anyway, I’m sorry if I sounded too harsh, but I’d rather prescind from the question of the spiritual state of this particular group of people, because I’m more interested in the general questions this raises, about how to assist more perfectly in the Mass. I think Fr. Bailey says something very key when he talks about the fulfilling of our duties within the Mass as being “a form of prayer.” It certainly should be — but it’s not as easy for us to learn to understand it that way. When engaged in “functional” activities, it’s easier for us to think of them in terms of their functions and not to actively think about them as service to God as such. This is what’s good about kneeling quietly in a pew — it’s easier to attend to the explicitly prayerful nature of what you’re doing. So for those of us engaged in other tasks, it’s good to strive to orient our service as much as possible towards God, and there are things we can do to make that easier — like putting choirs at the back of the church, as I mentioned before.
I’m sometimes tolerated in the choir myself. Admittedly my coordination skills are not the best and I find that it can be difficult to sing and pray at the same time. Falling back on Saint Augustine, I take comfort in his saying, “Qui bene cantat, bis orat.” But then again no one ever said I sing well. The same saint said this also. “David teaches us and warns us to sing praises with understanding, not to seek the sound of the ear, but the light of the heart. If the Psalm prays, pray; if it laments, lament; if it expresses joy, rejoice; if it hopes, hope; if it fears, fear…When you pray to God in psalms and hymns, let that dwell in your heart that you pronounce with your voice.” Something to strive for I guess.
I know some churches that have professional choirs come in for the Traditional Mass. No doubt everyone is trying to make the Mass as inspiring as possible but I agree that it is better for the choir to be composed of Catholics. In the early Church the Catechumens left before the sacred mysteries took place. Should protestants join in with the angels singing Sanctus, Sanctus, Sanctus? I don’t appreciate Mozart during Mass either. Such music is better sung elsewhere such as concert halls rather than Churches. I think Saint Pius X had something to say to that effect.
Discipulus wrote: “I don’t appreciate Mozart during Mass either. Such music is better sung elsewhere such as concert halls rather than Churches. I think Saint Pius X had something to say to that effect.”
I heartily agree. Although it may come down to preference (de gustibus…), I don’t find orchestral Masses to be particularly suited to the actual celebration of Mass. I know there are those who do but to me they all seem rather secular despite the text that is set to music. I sang in a parish choir in the late 70’s that still did the Latin Ordinary on occasion. We hadn’t the skills to sing polyphonic Masses, but we were able to sing chant and the so-called Parish Masses that were found in Catholic Hymnals or elsewhere. They weren’t the best as far as musical composition, but they were much more suited to the Holy Sacrifice than Orchestral Masses, I feel.
It seems to me (and I’m no expert) that orchestral settings of the Mass take away from what is happening rather than adding to it. Chant and polyphony serve to raise the heart and soul to God. For me, orchestral Masses are too much like a concert…. to showy. I may be wrong to say this, but it seems that they were written this way: first for the music, then for Divine Worship. I do not find this with chant or polyphonic settings which seem to be specifically for Divine Worship.
As to understanding our functions at Mass as prayer, I think what gets in the way is that we expect we should *feel* a certain way. While how we feel can certainly effect our prayers, human beings that we are, we should not measure the value of prayer by how we feel. In this case our feelings are meaningless.
The problem with focusing on feelings or using them as a standard of measurement is what happens when our feelings are negative or they are gone all-together? Prayer is not about feeling, but rather about responding to God. In fact, prayer is of the greatest merit when we feel as though we are failing at it, not giving it our all, distracted, and still stick with it. I think it was St. Teresa of Avila who said that if we spend our entire prayer returning to God from distractions it is of greater worth than a prayer with no distractions.
If we have a particular task or job at the Sacred Liturgy, it is much better to give it all our attention and do it to the best of our ability than to feel we are recollected or prayerful. It is difficult for us to think this way because we are a production oriented society and culture– we measure success by output or how much we can do. The only way to do so is to constantly remind ourselves that our action is prayer and as such it deserves to be done to the best of our ability. The priest at the altar is rarely recollected through the entire Mass (I don’t think it’s possible celebrating the Ordinary Form). If he is, he has received a gift from God. It is not his own doing. The same is true of the acolyte, thurifer, chorist, etc. At the same time this cannot be an excuse for not striving to be recollected, for God will see our efforts and give to us accordingly.
I think this is a very important discussion and I hope it will continue. Feelings have a place, but we must not make overmuch of them, especially since they can derail a spiritual life.
Thank you, Father. This has been a good discussion from which I have profited.
Regarding Mozart, however, I may have made a mistake. Although I was indeed referring to orchestral music in thinking of him, I see that he did write some simpler hymns such as a version of Ave Verum, something which Clara my have been referring to originally.
And JSP, you may be giving the wrong impression about us ER attendees. Some don’t believe in “Waterboarding;” rather “Highly Sophisticated Coercive Interrogation Methods.”
Discipulus, Mozart did indeed write a version of “Ave Verum.” It, unlike his Mass settings, is absolutely exquisite. For me, there is no greater piece of music. I have often thought that Mozart must have had a great love for the Blessed Sacrament to write this piece. Only love could produce it’s sentiment and wedding of words and music. If you have not heard it, I’m sure you can find a recording at your local library.
I never hear it that I am not transported in spirit to the foot of the altar whereon Christ is exposed in the Sacrament of Love.
Well, I do not understand most of what was said so far, but I met a man who sang at the Solemn High at Holy Ghost in Knoxville, TN. He said he was initially not interested in EF. Then, after singing and attending this Mass, he thought it was awesome! He said he is a convert to the EF.
Well, that’s certainly great to hear, Marie! I hope there were others like this.