Let Sacred Music Touch Our Faith
As in all movements that bring together people from different perspectives, in ecumenism there is rightly a desire to find the things that everyone can agree about.
But the danger of this is that you end up with something that no one can object to, even if no one really likes it. Thus, ecumenical services often fail to inspire because they end up being based on the lowest common denominator.
Wouldn’t it be exciting, instead, if the aim was to find the highest common factor — rejoicing in the elements that are the best from each of the traditions?
I can imagine a service held in a Russian Orthodox building with Greek Orthodox icons. The Eucharist would be led by the Catholics, the readings delivered by the Anglicans, the preacher would be a Baptist and the prayers said by a Presbyterian. The Methodists would organise the choral singing and the Lutherans the organ music. Finally, the Evangelicals would supply the refreshments afterwards: cappuccinos all round!
I was recently involved in an experiment that came close to this. The Durban Chamber Choir (of which I am a member) regularly sings unaccompanied Mass settings such as those written by Monteverdi or Victoria 500 years ago. We also sing modern music, especially pieces composed by our conductor, Dr Christopher Cockburn.
When he was in charge of music at Grahamstown cathedral, Dr Cockburn wrote a series of Mass settings that were premiered at a Eucharist during the National Arts Festival. His “Festival Mass Number 2” was originally sung by two choirs, the regular formal Cathedral choir and a community choir from the township.
He had thus created a piece that connected with the two traditions of Western church music and African choral music. Sometimes the two parts sang in ”call-and-response”, which in turn reminds us of monastic antiphonal singing (think about how choir stalls in old cathedrals are placed opposite each other, for the two parts of the choir).
Whether the Mass setting is from the 16th century or the 20th century, the full impact of such music is best heard in the liturgical context for which it was written, rather than in a concert hall. We were thus delighted when Fr James Ralston OMI, who has been a member of the choir, invited us recently to sing as part of the main Sunday morning Mass at Blessed Sacrament Church in Virginia, a northern suburb of Durban. It was especially appropriate since this very recent Mass was being sung in a starkly modern, award-winning church which opened in 2005-06.
Mass coming home
It felt, in some way, that the Mass was coming home since the words were sung in the traditional Latin. Dr Cockburn explained that, even though he originally wrote it for an Anglican Eucharist, he used Latin.
This was in part to connect with the ancient well-known Mass settings, but also to get around a very South African problem: at the time the congregation in Grahamstown cathedral was almost evenly divided between English, Afrikaans and Xhosa speakers. Latin was acceptable because it was no one’s home language!
The High Anglican Eucharist is structurally very similar to a post-Vatican II Catholic Mass, and so the music fitted in perfectly in the Catholic church. The one change was that the first two sections of music had to be swapped around, since in the Anglican liturgy the Gloria comes before the Kyrie. The composer was very comfortable with this.
He said: “The Gloria and Kyrie, which are closest together in the liturgy, form a contrasting pair. If the Gloria is bright, the Kyrie is dark. The Gloria gives joyful praise and the Kyrie asks mercy for what has gone wrong. I think they can work in either order: a vision of glory leads to an awareness of one’s distance from it and the need for repentance; repentance and mercy received opens the way to thankful praise and a vision of glory!”
Latin in a NGK church
We expected a greater challenge the following week, when we were invited to sing the same work at the Dutch Reformed Church (the NGK) in Umhlanga. Bear in mind that for many members of the NGK the Roomse gevaar (the “Roman danger”) used to be on a par with the swart gevaar (the “black danger”) and the rooi gevaar (the “red danger”, or communists).
There did not seem to be many blacks or communists in the congregation that morning, but I was one of a number of Catholics in the choir who were there, and we were singing in Latin in a service that was predominately in Afrikaans. It’s just as well that we sing loudly, so we drowned out the sound of venerable Voortrekkers spinning in their graves! And yet, thanks to the thoughtful placing of the pieces in the service by Dominees Armando Fraenkel and Theo Human, the fit was liturgically just right.
In both churches the choir seemed to do our job: to lead the minds and the hearts of the worshippers towards God.
It was very moving to hear so many positive comments from NGK members afterwards: not one of them was anxious that we had sung in Latin, or used texts from the Catholic Mass. Instead they seemed delighted to enjoy the quality and traditions of another part of the Christian community and see how they integrated with their own.
In turn, I was deeply moved to witness their communion service (nagmaal): the minister, wearing regular clothes, reciting the familiar words of Jesus from the Last Supper but in a very informal way, compared to the Catholic rite.
That we could sing the Agnus Dei in both Catholic and Dutch Reformed contexts was interesting, given the very different theological understanding of communion by the respective denominations. But Dr Cockburn captured the reason why it worked. He pointed out that the music expresses the responses that are required during the service: penitence, praise, thanksgiving, acceptance.
He said: “All these services have common elements, however differently they may be arranged and however different the language that surrounds them. By expressing these common human responses, the music is able to highlight what we have in common, alongside those things that make us distinctive.”
Bland fare
I was pleased, and not surprised, that each week the congregations had reacted so well to music that was unfamiliar and challenging. I think we often do parishioners a disservice by giving them the same bland fare musically when in fact they are open to hearing something more inspiring.
We assume that our congregations are content with fast-food music every week, perhaps because it’s all they have known — but given the chance to taste cordon bleu, they really appreciate it.
The frequent excuse is that the parish has to rely on whoever comes forward to volunteer for the music ministry. But why? Our cities, and some of our towns, have a number of musicians and singers who are highly skilled and for a small payment could lead excellent music in our parishes. And yet, we are happy to spend more money on the flowers each week than we spend on the music!
Let’s show respect for God and for God’s people by offering them a high standard in all parts of our liturgy.
A recording of the Durban Chamber Choir singing the Festival Mass and some other pieces will soon be available. If you would like to be kept informed about this, e-mail
Published in the May 2023 issue of The Southern Cross magazine
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