Why a proper understanding of Liturgy is Important (a Musical Perspective)
People often seem to operate under the assumption that if a song (and sometimes we musicians do indeed mean song) even vaguely references a religious theme—no matter how opaquely—that it renders the music fit for sacred liturgy. This is, of course, very untrue, and belies a very impaired understanding of both liturgy and music.
“But for a musician, an understanding of music is only half the battle.”
Objective principles for musical merit exist (as described in many places, such as Tra le Sollicitudini, Sacrosanctum Concilium, the GIRM, Sing to the Lord, and many other such teaching documents) although I will not delve into those here, as that is a discussion unto itself.
But for a musician, an understanding of music is only half the battle: musicians must also have an intimate understanding of the nature and purpose of liturgy as well. Something that works well in one place, may be a very poor choice, indeed, in another: we do not wear swimsuits to Mass, nor do we wear choir robes to the beach. The same holds true for music: something that works well in one context can be very inappropriate in another. †1 This was recently highlighted for me when I stumbled across a live-stream feed of a wedding where the bride walked down the aisle to Andrew Lloyd Weber’s famous Pie Jesu.
“Something that works well in one context can be very inappropriate in another.”
Now, dear reader, you may be thinking, “well, ALW’s Pie is perfectly suitable for liturgical use!” and we would generally agree †2. But as I mentioned above, there are two pieces to this puzzle: the music itself, and its placement within liturgy.
Now we turn to the crux of the matter: the Pie Jesu was used in a completely inappropriate context. Rather than enhancing the liturgy, it actually detracted from it. Let us consider the meaning and proper context of the Pie Jesu: the Requiem Mass.
Pie Jesu, Domine, dona eis requiem.
Gentle Lord Jesus, grant them eternal rest.
To anyone who is liturgically informed, the incongruity of the proper context (no pun intended) and the manner in which it was employed is nothing short of astounding. Weddings—so full of joy, hope, and expectation—being ornamented with an extract of the Dies Iræ, which asks our Lord to have mercy on the deceased, is, to put it mildly, quite comical. (Cue the tired trope about men’s lives being over on their wedding day!) This is almost as funny as singing “Now Thank We All Our God” at a funeral; just… don’t. The optics are not great.
Now for my impassioned pleas(e):
To the layperson who has a request of their music director: please be mindful of both the what and the when of your request (both when it is given, and when you desire for it to be done). Just because “it’s you’re special day” does not mean that you get to eschew all liturgical rubrics or considerations. Funerals and Weddings are not supposed to be a collection of your favorite “greatest hits”. The liturgy comes first.
To the music director: it is OK—nay, laudable!—to draw firm boundaries about what you will permit (and where) within the liturgy. It is even OK to be firm (albeit charitable) when the pastor is less willing.
And so, the moral of the story: a piece of music needs to not only be properly fit for liturgical use (both text and music, independently and as a whole), it also needs to be situated properly within the correct liturgy. Anything less does damage to the liturgy, no matter how pretty the music might be.
†1 • The most common issue I have noticed is music directors choosing very boisterous hymns for communion, during a moment when the liturgy requires the music to foster a more prayerful and quiet atmosphere. Similarly, it is not uncommon to have a responsorial psalm setting which does not seem to pair with the text. “God mounts His thrones to shouts of joy; a blare of trumpets for the Lord!” requires a completely different musical setting than “Lord, in Your mercy, blot out my offense.” Composers will do well to keep this in mind.
†2 • Sadly, it must be conceded that certain pieces of music have gone on to have a “life of their own” in such a way that one might question the prudence of using the piece within a liturgical context, due to the secular associations that may have crept in. Some pieces have become so famous (and not always due to their merits!) that they almost become a distraction, rather than an ornament to the liturgy. Bach’s Toccata and Fugue immediately comes to mind; it is nothing but a fantasia in the high baroque style, and yet it’s association with horror films means it cannot be heard in a neutral context.
