Clothing, Democracy, and Sacred Music

There was a time when one could identify the status, station, or "class" of a person by the clothes that they wore. Royalty, nobility, upper to middle-class business owners, their employees, farmers, or poor peasants, could each be identified by their clothing. Woe to the person who presumed to dress "above their station."

The various democratic revolutions since the Enlightenment have emphasized the equality of all citizens through more common clothing styles. Over time we have increasingly tended toward more "egalitarian" dress in which, with some exceptions, we no longer so easily recognize the "station" of an unknown person we might meet. Indeed, we may not recognize it because we are honestly less concerned about their "station" at all. We do seem to have become more egalitarian in our outlook.

I was taught that one of the great things about America was how any one of us could aspire to any position through education, merit and hard work. Not long ago a man in a tuxedo implied (or expressed?) his place in "high-class" society but now any one of us can present ourselves in said tux as an equal citizen no worse or better than any other. Our dress no longer clearly announces our "place" in society. There are certainly observations we can make about a person by judging their clothes: the very poor still wear poor clothes; the successful business person may be identifiable by well-crafted clothing (or at least an expensive haircut). By and large, however, Americans tend to judge others by their clothing less than previous generations. Or do we?

While this would seem to be a good trend, I regularly witness other manifestations of this egalitarian direction which seem LESS egalitarian. I see an ironic twist in our mania to make ourselves relaxed. People now want everything "relaxed" and "less formal" especially, it seems, in "ritual" situations. That is our new restriction! Clothes worn at worship, weddings, graduation, prom, or all manner of dinners and other formerly formal occasions are increasingly the same as everyday dress. On the surface I have no objection to this, however we do seem to wear expensive ritual clothing to sports events, making it part of the sports-ritual without ever seeing the disconnect between what we say and what we do (wear) in other ritual acts. I think one can spend more on a pair of sneakers and a sports jersey than it would cost to buy modest suit, shirt, tie, and "dress" shoes!

Our democracy says: ANYBODY can wear a tux and hang out, but WE seem to say: I don't want to be so stuck-up, rigid and formal. We say "we're all relaxed here" in strict observance of our cultural "enforced informality" rubric. Is this really what democracy amounts to? ...does this not restore the clothing-as-sign-of-status pattern that we otherwise celebrate overthrowing? Does it not continue the old fashioned class system? ...even as we congratulate ourselves on how relaxed we are. Enforced informality?

As a rock and roll playing jazzer with a graduate degree in organ and harpsichord (who adores almost all kinds of music - from Bach to be-bop; Renaissance to rap; Ambrosian to Zappa) the present music scene in the American church and culture seems to follow similar patterns as clothing. Our democratic culture makes ALL types of music open and accessible to ALL people. Our president can enjoy country music, and a homeless soul can favor grand opera (really; it's true. I've met them). An affluent suburban congregation may worship with trendy pop Christian music while a struggling inner-city parish may (and is often MORE likely to) use classical music and ancient chant as an authentic expression of the faith.

What I observe is that many people find "classical" church music too "uppity" and "grandiose" even though it represents deep, usually folk-related traditions inherited from centuries of Christians. One benefit of this style of music is that in hymns and songs sung by all, the music is simpler, as most music related to the folk tradition is. Those Christians who choose mostly (or ONLY) current (which occasionally means only from the 70's and 80's) expressions of sung faith generally offer few singable tunes for COLLECTIVE singing. It can tend to be performance oriented (wait, isn't THAT the complaint about that stuffy classical church music?) and often when something IS offered for the congregation to sing in this so-called Contemporary style, it is a slow ballad without meter or much repetition, let alone theological or musical merit. One favorite of recent years calls on the congregation to navigate 159 different notes with precious little repeating. Compared to the solid, democratic tune St. Anne which uses 29 notes for one stanza, then repeats, all with clean, metrical, text, I don't see why the later is considered "formal" and off-putting while the former is thought to be so wonderful and fresh. (Some notable exceptions to this are the songs of Taize and Iona.)

Real folk music showed up in the American church for a time in the 1960's but was soon replaced by profit-making, disposable, consumable ditties that we "like." Musicians bear responsibility for the loss of truly participatory music in the church as we often stubbornly proclaim that we will only allow "GOOD" music (whatever that is). All too often, St. Anne (to continue the example) is played so badly, with so little inspiration, surrounded by so little teaching, that we should not be surprised that people flee from it in search of something new. "If St. Anne is 'good music' then give me the bad!" they might say.

Our democratic tradition offers us the riches of all cultures, of all times, places, and social/economic strata, for our use and enjoyment (as well as our dismissal; we don't have to like it all). I see many in the younger generation being raised with the same bias as their parents against the "grandiose." "We are just simple people and don't want this fancy stuff." Are we regressing to an earlier, less democratic time when we were limited by our "place?" It seems so. I once invited a particular person to an organ recital. When they replied that it was not their thing, I asked if they had ever been to one before, and they answered no. What an impoverished approach to life we pass on to our children with that attitude. "Know your place. Don't be uppity." That doesn't sound like democracy at work to me; it doesn't sound like the Gospel-good news either. I say: "Try unknown places! Get uppity!"

Are you on the Mountaintop? GET DOWN!

In today's Roman Catholic lectionary many hear the story of the Transfiguration of Christ in the Gospel reading. Although others who use the Revised Common Lectionary (or the UN-revised Common Lectionary for that matter) hear this story as the last Sunday after Epiphany, it is always on the second Sunday of Lent according to the Roman Calendar (and on August 6 too).

I take this reading as a lesson for Church musicians, among others. Just as Peter seems to think it would be just swell to linger at the site of the mysterious event and build three "booths", so do many of us musicians sometimes want to remain in the church building singing praise to God. Not that there is anything wrong with singing praise to God, but when that excludes the WORK of the Kingdom of God, it is a distortion of that kingdom. If the fine praises we offer IN the church do not travel out the door with us and cause us to change our lives and work for the coming of the Kingdom of peace and justice witnessed through Jesus Christ, then we are likely not the Church at all. Our fine praises, our exquisite, historical, appropriate, well-tuned and "proper" praises, are only "tinkling cymbals" if they are not accompanied by actions that make it seem that we actually HEARD the message that we are so pleased to offer through beautiful music.

Don't get me wrong, I believe that we should use the utmost skill and experience to craft our praises, but I am fearful that we can easily miss the point of the art we bring to the people of God. If we echo Peter on the mountain-top and choose to linger there just to congratulate ourselves on our good taste and "oh-so-fine" music, then we are not furthering the Kingdom of God at all.

The mountain-top is beautiful but we must go DOWN the mountain to share our experience. We need to go out the door of the church to bring the Good News to those who need it. Does the music we offer at worship travel into the world with our flock, or does it stay on the mountain? This is a hard question we might ask ourselves every day if we follow Jesus.

Singing in the 21st Century?

Last week a high school student in choir informed me that the note we needed to sing was too high, yet it was only G above middle C, "not a high note" I informed her. At best, the singing of the high school congregation is tepid. The grade school does a little better, but it is obvious that singing is simply not prospering these days. Even with adults at Mass, often times the singing seems so quiet that it really feels like "going through the motions" of worship.

The repertoire of music here is small enough to allow everyone to know almost everything that is sung so unfamiliarity is not the issue. A balanced repertoire has been consistent for some years and includes a broad range of music including old and new, folk, world, and classical. Leadership is clear, and the room is supportive of song. We have everything going for us, yet singing seems a little worse every year. The mainstay of our collective song is older folks and young people seem to sing less.

I fear that the mission work of the Church through song, at least in America, is greatly diminished in the 21st Century. It will take renewed teaching concerning the importance of singing to the society and individual, as well as to the Church. Our clergy need to include hymn references in their preaching, and schools need to be sure that music begins with singing skills before moving on to instrumental music. I was always taught that you can't play something any better than you can sing it. The downturn in singing does not bode well for the next generation of musicians brought up in a singing-challenged culture.

A Prosaic Church?

A pastor told me that singing is the only thing that we KNOW we will do in heaven. I have personally known of a number of head injury/stroke patients who lost their speech, but were able to sing old songs before they could speak. They could not even say their own name, but they could sing a hymn learned in childhood. It is clear that singing is a more basic human communication than speech, yet singing is often misunderstood as an "extra." "Singing is nice, but first let's do the IMPORTANT things that we must TALK about" is essentially what I hear over and over through the years as I have lead Christians in song.

Experience and history present a different story. How many of us learned our "ABC's" by SONG? In 19th Century rural America the answer to teaching religion (not music) was through the establishment of singing schools. We know that one of the first, if not the first, books printed in America was a Psalm book with music. Gregory the Great understood that music was key to establishing common Catholic belief in the expanding Church at the turn of the 7th Century and he ordered a collection of songs, Gregorian Chant, still known today. Music and the development of the brain have long been yoked and although this seems to remain the case in much of today's world, in the US, it would seem that singing as an integral part of basic education is being lost. Singing has been grouped with the arts, and we all know that the arts are an "extra."

At the same time as the American culture moves increasingly to spoken word as the truest measure of real communication, should we be surprised that current music has less melodic interest than ever. Even the modulation of our common speech has become flatter and less modulated. Listen to young people of recent times and the Hollywood idols they reflect and one generally hears less change in pitch (modulation) as they speak. It is fashionable for girls in particular to under-support their voice and speak at such a low pitch that they do not even make a clear sound. Their voice drops below their natural pitch and drifts into what is called a vocal fry. This bad habit will likely lead to trouble with their voice, possibly vocal nodules and resulting surgery, or even loss of voice.

Americans like to say how much they enjoy the lilt of a native Irish speaker whose voice modulates up and down quite freely and expressively. Americans seem to be moving in the other direction. All ages remark on the speech of some speakers or teachers as being "boring" when what they mean is that the speaker does not modulate his or her voice, they just drone on. Are Americans losing the musical nature of our voices? Is the spoken word really the best communication? Is our God-given voice, built for poetry and high expression, to be limited to prose only? Is a Church built around the left-brain "speech" without the balance of right-brain poetry and song a true and lasting form of the historic Church? I think the result of such a prosaic Church will be neither attractive to seekers, nor a true representation of the Church of the last 2000 years. I'm tired of being viewed as a decoration on the mission of the Church. Indeed: "Whoever sings, prays twice."

The Christmas Story - The Christmas Song

Every year it is the same thing - the same songs - the same story. And we wouldn't have it any other way. We shouldn't have it any other way.

We repeat the story of the coming of our salvation so that new listeners begin to learn it and longtime listeners continue to learn it.

We repeat the songs of our ancestors knowing instinctively that there is truth and wisdom in these old carols and hymns which makes it important for us to keep singing them. As we sing them, new Christians are caught by Jesus even as longtime believers continue to be discovered by the baby in the manger.

The words and notes and rhythms of these songs are the barn and the hay and the animals which surround the great miracle in Bethlehem. This great miracle must also occur in our hearts.
Do not mistake the container of love, for the love itself. Do not confuse the song with the message. Do not see the manger but see Jesus. And do not see only a baby, but see the Savior

If you listen closely to our Christian songs you will hear the true message of love sitting quietly behind every word and every note. This is the reason why we sing our song of love: It is the song of salvation.

Every year it is the same thing - the same songs - the same story. And we wouldn't have it any other way. We shouldn't have it any other way.

Pew Potatoes

It seems that some of the same folks who fuss because congregational music does not suit their "taste" are the same ones who do not ever sing anyway. In spite of all the lofty words from Vatican 2 about shaping active participation of the people, it often seems that there is no more participation now than before the "reforms." Mr. or Ms. Microphone Cantor commonly bellow the hymns so loudly that everyone is cowed into silence (but not where I serve). We are impressed with their voice; how can we compete? I understand that choirs are also being fitted with microphones. In our increasingly sound-absorbent, carpeted rooms that stifle sound ("dead" rooms), the microphone is king. The "singers" sing and everyone listens. This sounds like the pre-Vatican 2 liturgy that the council sought to correct: Spectators and performers. The couch potato "entertain me" generation has embraced this distortion of a church united in song and has given us PEW POTATOES. I don't hear America singing.

A Choir of One may be no choir at all!

I am a Christian church musician working full-time in a Catholic Church and grade school, and high school. My work involves all ages and often prompts observations about current trends in culture and their impact on the role of music at worship and worships role in furthering the Gospel of Jesus Christ.

The title of this blog is derived from the recent (now replaced?) adverts by the US Army, "An Army of One" which I always thought a bit odd. The phrase "A Choir of One" suggests to me the same kind of hyper-individuality rampant in American culture. This ethos would seem to challenge the centuries-old patterns of Christian worship and mission by replacing COLLECTIVE prayer and identity with INDIVIDUAL opinion and focus. I plan to consider the intersection between the secular culture (especially in the USA) and the historic Christan culture, especially as played out at worship/liturgy. STAY TUNED!