Why I hate Catholic music

BY FR CHRIS TOWNSEND

Oh joy! Recently I read a blog by one James Macmillan about Catholic music which made me want to jump and dance and sing. At last, there was someone who isn’t afraid to speak out about how horrific our Catholic music has been allowed to become in the English-speaking Catholic world.

“Shine, Jesus, Shine” indeed. I have noticed that I’ve become physically averse to singing some of the rubbish that passes as liturgical music in our Catholic communities today. We have allowed ourselves and our musical tradition to become “dumbed down” to the point that most parishes sing from a catalogue that consists of a maximum of about 16 hymns—and the only way we know it is a different liturgical season is when the order of the hymns change.

Before you get me wrong and accuse me of being a neo-conservative and “not with it” (how we love labels in our Church), know that I was born in 1972 and have no clear recollection of anything except such meaningless ditties as “Morning Has Broken”. One of the greatest legacies I received from my father and grandfather is a love for music, especially liturgical music. I listen to everything, from the great polyphonics, to Gregorian chant to Hillsong and Michael W Smith. So it is not that I choose to say or feel this because of an agenda, other than the value, purpose and usefulness in Catholic liturgy.

The extremely contentious (actually, it wasn’t) implementation of the revised English translation of the Roman Rite gives us an opportunity for a catechesis on liturgy that focuses on nobility, longevity, history and prayer. Revising how we see the Mass gives an opportunity to see how we can all participate in keeping liturgy about worship and prayer.

I was recently subjected to an argument that we had to sing particular songs “because the youth would like them”. Now, here’s the disjunct: the youth can’t stand them and find them “boring”, but because the tradition of liturgical music is so poor in most of English-speaking Catholic South Africa, they have no choice. It is a disingenuous argument that chooses music for them without giving them a choice.

Yes, good music is difficult. It requires practice. It requires planning and it should be simple enough that the congregation can sing. It is possible, if we stretch our musical horizons just a little bit.

The standard Catholic four-required-spots for music (entrance, preparation and presentation of the gifts, Communion and recessional) has left us with the strange situation of singing an entrance song and then neglecting to sing the Gloria or the Alleluia or the other parts that should be sung. As for the silence that is so necessary for liturgy as prayer, we are all in such a rush that, as a priest, in many parishes I’m shimmied on by those keen to get out. Sad.

It’s not only in English-speaking Catholic South Africa. Many of our black communities suffer from the same tragedy—the hymn books date from the ‘70s and ‘80s of the last century and, again, only about 16-20 songs are in regular use.

All our communities, often quite ignorant of our own Catholic riches and tradition, import music from other churches—much of which is just dodgy. Darlene from Hillsong is brilliant and the scriptural basis of much of contemporary Christian music is commendable, but is it good to use in liturgy? Beware of the use of ‘I’… much of this music is selfish.

I listen to the radio a lot. I often have some or other tune running through my head when I’m not listening (sometimes called an “earworm”). I know how powerful lyrics can be and how much more powerful they are with the multiplier effect of a good tune. Then why don’t we use the catechetical advantage this gives to teach more by our music? But we’ve been lulled into complacency, dumbed down by choice, told that it’s too hard to learn music, so we sing because it is required, because it fills time—and rarely if ever think about it.

If I had my wish, having won a big lotto payout, I would love to see an Academy for Church Music established for Catholic South Africa—a place where the liturgy could once again sing with worship, with meaning and with quality. A place where we could practise what Pope Benedict calls a “hermeneutic of continuity”, where we can rediscover the beauty of the past and re-interpret that past in order to “pray twice”. South Africa has a wealth of musical talent and history—if we’re willing to stretch ourselves.

“Go, the Mass is ended.” Sometimes I’m really happy to be the first person out of Church, and I feel a deep sympathy for those who rush out at the end of Mass. If I had to listen to that, I would too. Wait, I do.

Fr Chris Townsend serves in the archdiocese of Johannesburg and is the information officer of the Southern African Catholic Bishops’ Conference. He is writing in his personal capacity.