Norm #86 of the new General Instruction of the Roman
Missal 2002 a achieves a breakthrough in human relations in the Roman
Church. The norm states:
Care should be taken that the singers, too, can receive Communion
with ease.
To the best of my knowledge, this is the first time in the history
of liturgical documents of the Western Church that:
(1) recognition is made of a breathing, human, musical
person whose spiritual welfare is deemed important enough to be
cited in a heavy-duty Roman document
(2) the implication that the singer as well as the song is important
enough to be cited in a heavy-duty Roman document.
(3) that music does not originate among the harmony of the spheres
in outer space, but from the human body and human breath.
Church musicians and their identity have fallen through
the cracks in numerous churches and not all of them Roman. For the
longest time, Roman Catholic music ministers were primarily the parish
organist and or choir director.
Forty years or so ago, most people knew the name of the parish janitor,
but would be hard pressed to name the organist. For all practical
purposes, music simply happened.
Of course, in the period before Vatican II, the organist’s requirements
were very clear—to sing and play the morning mass to fulfill
the canonic requirement of having the Mass sung to satisfy the stipend
for a “high Mass.” Music simply happened.
The liturgies for these morning Masses were the Mass of the day, or
the requiem Mass, whose proper parts were identical to the funeral
liturgies.
I knew one cathedral organist who could get through singing the "Dies
irae" of the requiem Mass in less than 75 seconds. (Search for
"Dies irae" on your engine for the full text with music
and you’ll understand what a feat 75 seconds would mean.) Such
an interpretation of the chant “Dies irae” didn’t
border scandal, it was liturgical malpractice.
Catholic musicians were taken for granted in all too many churches.
It wasn’t until our lifetimes that fair and just treatment became
a concern for the church’s administration.
The abuse was not isolated to churches. In the first half of the twentieth
century, most cities and towns had concert/lecture halls that housed
a pipe organ.
In western Pennsylvania it was a rare town that did not have an organ
that was donated by Andrew Carnegie. Some places even had someone
who knew how to play it. Miracles do happen.
A legendary story in our part of the country exists in which the curmudgeon
organist sought revenge during a special community service in which
music played an important part.
Mind you, he had been the community organist for years and played
hundreds of services. It was apparent that he took great exception
to a note in the programs which stated, “The organ will play.”
It never said what the organ would play or who would play it—just
that the organ would play.
Obviously being fed up on the presumptuous the-organ-would-play concept,
he revolted. At one of the high school graduations, an extended silence
occurred, and it occurred in the program when “the organ will
play.”
Everyone waited and waited. Finally, the puffed up high-school principal
hurried to the console to see what might have happened, only to be
greeted by the organist who was standing with arms crossed in front
of his chest.
In the strongest voice he could muster the organist exclaimed, “Well.
just how will the organ play if I don’t? Sir, for years you
have announced that “the organ will play.” This time it
didn’t because I didn’t.”
A quick rapprochement occurred, money exchanged, and the organ did
play and the graduates left with Elgar ringing in their ears. The
professor made his point.
Today, a good amount of organists and music ministers receive well-deserved
recognition. In fact, many churches list the names of directors of
music and liturgy on the front page of the parish bulletin.
We’re starting to come into our own part of the kingdom. The
GIRM norm is proof of this victory. Who knows, maybe in the GIRM 2025
that norm will be expanded to include a schedule of salary scales
and benefits.
Miracles do happen.
