September 30, 26th Sunday in Ordinary Time
Prelude (10:45): Halleluya, we sing your praises
Opening: Lord, whose love in humble service (WS 674)
(at 9:00: We are Called)
Psalm: 146—Praise the Lord, my soul (PRM C96)
Presentation: The Cry of the Poor (GC 33)
(at Saturday 5:00: Lord, bring me home, Paul Tate)
(at 9:00: Within the Reign of God)
Communion: (at 10:45: Out of the Depths, J.S. Bach)
(at 9:00: Here am I)
All liturgies: A New Commandment (WS 592)
at Saturday 5:00: Canticle of the Turning)
Closing: We are Called (GC 710)
(at 9:00: Go out in the world, Bolduc)
With the onset of multiple choirs and a parish that at last has a fairly consistent across-the-board repertoire, the lineups for the different weekend liturgies are starting to shift more and more…this weekend the Youth Choir, our grade 5-8 group, sings for the first time. They sounded lovely in rehearsal, so I’m really looking forward to it…
Honestly, there’s not much to say about the scriptures for this week I didn’t say last week…not to oversimplify, but it’s very much a “more of the same” kind of Sunday: First reading, woe to the rich. Psalm, praise God who raises up the lowly. Second reading, pursue the way of Christ. Gospel, the rich man and Lazarus: earthly wealth is meaningless when it comes to eternity. Sort of "same old, same old" at this point :-)
So, music choices:
Halleluya, we sing your praises (choir at 10:45): this prelude is there primarily for two not-too deep reasons: 1. Kelly, our organist, is helping Rory in Barrington this weekend and I don’t have time to prepare a decent prelude. And 2. amidst these dire readings, we need a reminder to rejoice and be glad. The other choir piece at this liturgy is very sad and lamenting, so I wanted a contrast.
Lord, whose love in humble service: set to the American folk hymn tune BEACH SPRING, this is a none-too subtle reminder, a homily-in-verse, really, of our obligation to serve others as Christ served us. It’s a little too wordy for the children’s choir to pull off, and the 9:00 liturgy is more likely to be populated by parents whose total number of arms is exceeded by the number of children they are corralling, so I tend to program hymnal-free music as much as possible at this liturgy.
Cry of the Poor, at the Presentation, is a lovely setting of Psalm 34 from the “Glory and Praise” days—one of the ones that thankfully survived the liturgy wars and is still part of the standard Catholic repertoire today. The only reason we are not doing it at 5:00 and 9:00 is because the choir has pieces which fit best in that spot: Paul Tate’s lovely “Lord, bring me home to your temple” is a nod to Lazarus and the rich man, expressing our longing to dwell in God’s house. I first heard this lovely setting probably 15 years ago, before anyone had ever heard of Paul Tate, and it has stuck with me ever since. I was delighted to see that it is finally in publication. At the 9:00, Marty Haugen’s charming “Within the Reign of God” is one I have loved for children’s choirs for years: “Blessed are they who are least in the reign of God; they shall rejoice at the feast of life!” It sings so beautifully and clearly…I doubt if I’d be inclined to use it for adult groups, but it’s great for kids.
At Communion time this week, I have two choirs doing “pre-Communion” choral pieces, and one doing a “post-Communion” song of praise. The children at 9:00 are singing this heart-wrenchingly sad little piece called “Here am I,” about Christ being amid the homeless and cold children, asking us, “where are you?”…the kids are complaining about how sad it is and attempting to draw me into deep theological conversations at practice to avoid actually practicing, but I think it’ll be wonderfully effective. And the 10:45 choir is singing a Bach chorale based on Psalm 130: “Out of the Depths I cry to you, O God.” Another nod to the rich man and Lazarus, this time from the perspective of the rich man, sunk in the depths and crying out for relief.
On Saturday, the Ensemble is singing “Canticle of the Turning,” Rory’s rather revolutionary version of the Magnificat; they love it and pretty much sing the stuffing out of it, and as I said last week, the Magnificat is perfect for any weeks when we’re focusing on how God puts down the rich and raises up the lowly.
For all the liturgies we selected music for the closing which reflects this sense of sending and mission: We are Called at most liturgies, which the parish loves and sings really well, and “Go out in the world” with the children at 9:00, since they love it and I already used We are Called as their opening!
So…we shall see! Lots of good singing will be happening this weekend…
Peace,
Jennifer
Thursday, September 27, 2007
Monday, September 24, 2007
September 23--What I learned
This week I learned that I am, after all, not immune to embarrassment. Anyone who was at the 10:45: remember that annoying little boy who was waggling his ears and making faces through the whole Eucharistic Prayer up on the altar? Yup, that was my son. My sweet boy. He makes his mama so proud...
Sigh.
It was his second time up there--last week he was good as gold, listened, paid attention, and was still as could be. Yesterday, he was the Klass Klown.
I told a few people that I want to get him a t-shirt that says, "No, I am not the Music Director's kid."
This week I also learned, once again, that I Love My Job!!
The Saturday choir sang for the first time, and they did a gorgeous job...and the people sang too. It was such a wonderful blend of sound, full of such heart and happiness and commitment, the kind of sound that really just drew one into worship and prayer and song. And I know that I, who (okay, I admit it!) from time to time occasionally slip into auto-pilot (not very often, really!)--even in the general course of things, I need to remain more consciously "in the present" and alert, and can't usually let myself relax into a spiritual experience--but Saturday I was moved into prayer in a way I don't get to be very often. It was just lovely. I was really happy to be back.
Sunday was just as good, but different, more familiar, since I've been directing the 10:45 choir every year without hiatus. It was like stepping into a familiar and comfortable home, one that's beautiful and warm and decorated just the way it ought to be, filled with family and laughter and music. The Willan motet was as flawless as I've ever heard it, and consummately musical...and just having the added vocal fullness and harmony to the rest of the liturgy was so nice. I was really happy to be back.
It's good to work in a place where, every Sunday when I leave work, I can't wait to go back to work again. Admittedly, I'm exhausted, I'm overloaded, I'm overscheduled, I'm quite honestly barely hanging on sometimes...but put me in front of a choir and suddenly there's enough energy for days. I love my work.
peace,
Jennifer
Sigh.
It was his second time up there--last week he was good as gold, listened, paid attention, and was still as could be. Yesterday, he was the Klass Klown.
I told a few people that I want to get him a t-shirt that says, "No, I am not the Music Director's kid."
This week I also learned, once again, that I Love My Job!!
The Saturday choir sang for the first time, and they did a gorgeous job...and the people sang too. It was such a wonderful blend of sound, full of such heart and happiness and commitment, the kind of sound that really just drew one into worship and prayer and song. And I know that I, who (okay, I admit it!) from time to time occasionally slip into auto-pilot (not very often, really!)--even in the general course of things, I need to remain more consciously "in the present" and alert, and can't usually let myself relax into a spiritual experience--but Saturday I was moved into prayer in a way I don't get to be very often. It was just lovely. I was really happy to be back.
Sunday was just as good, but different, more familiar, since I've been directing the 10:45 choir every year without hiatus. It was like stepping into a familiar and comfortable home, one that's beautiful and warm and decorated just the way it ought to be, filled with family and laughter and music. The Willan motet was as flawless as I've ever heard it, and consummately musical...and just having the added vocal fullness and harmony to the rest of the liturgy was so nice. I was really happy to be back.
It's good to work in a place where, every Sunday when I leave work, I can't wait to go back to work again. Admittedly, I'm exhausted, I'm overloaded, I'm overscheduled, I'm quite honestly barely hanging on sometimes...but put me in front of a choir and suddenly there's enough energy for days. I love my work.
peace,
Jennifer
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
September 23, 25th Sunday in Ordinary Time
September 23, 25th Sunday in Ordinary Time
Opening: The Summons (GC 687)
Psalm: 113—Praise the Lord who lifts up the poor (PRM C95)
Presentation: Holy is your Name (GC 83)
Communion: A New Commandment (WS 592)
Closing: You are the Voice (GC 538)
Choir: O How Sweet, O Lord (Healy Willan)--sung at the beginning of Communion
--this is a beautiful little motet I discovered probably in college, while I was singing at the National Shrine. Very short, very lovely, not too difficult but musically very expressive...it's a great "first" anthem for the choir season, and it's Magnificat-like themes fit the Sunday perfectly. For some weird reason it's out of print...
Ensemble: A Place at the Table (Murray/True)--sung at the Preparation, with Holy is your Name replacing The Summons at the opening
--another lovely one; combines lyricism with a comfortably syncopated melody, and the Ensemble likes it a lot. The syncopation would make it a little difficult for a congregation, but it makes a perfect contemporary choral piece. I will also probably have the Ensemble do a little prelude of "Halleluya, we sing your praises"--I'm not sure I'll be up for doing choral preludes every single Sunday; it just feels sort of odd to me. I'd rather mix choral with instrumental week by week. But if the assembly keeps singing, and if having the choir "present" something before the liturgy begins can be done in a way that helps people move into their prayer, and encourages rather than stifles singing, I certainly won't object to it, and it seems to be something they really want! We'll see...
(much of the below is taken from my Staff Notes for this week's bulletin, but music stuff comes at the bottom...)
Praise, you servants of the Lord!
Throughout this autumn season, as we move toward the end of our liturgical year, the readings we hear on Sundays will become more and more challenging. In the first reading on this 25th Sunday in Ordinary Time we hear the prophet Amos crying out against those whose greed and desire for worldly treasure cause them to abandon their worship and tread upon the poor and needy. The passage is harsh and condemning, fierce and relentless...
And the psalm that follows it cries out, “Praise the Lord! Praise the Lord who lifts up the poor!”
Often we think of the psalm as merely a “response” to the first reading; actually, its title as the “Responsorial Psalm” comes not from its purpose as a “response” to a reading but simply from its form of singing: “responsorial” singing, as far back as Gregorian Chant, has involved a dialogue between a leader (or cantor) and the larger assembly. The Psalm holds its place as part of the proclamation of the Word—it is a reading from Scripture which happens to be sung rather than spoken. That is why the Psalm is always proclaimed from the ambo, where the readings are heard, rather than from the microphone from which the cantor leads the rest of the singing.
Still, the psalms for each Sunday were chosen to link with the Gospel and Old Testament readings for each week, and this one is a glorious “response” to the cry of Amos: he calls out a message of doom and anguish, and amidst the anger and injustice perpetrated by those who care nothing for God, the psalmist still finds a voice of praise: “Praise the Lord who lifts up the poor! God raises the lowly from the dust...he lifts up the poor to seat them with princes...blessed be the name of the Lord, now and forever!”
This is a powerful reminder, and one which any of us who love music and singing should hold to heart: when the road is difficult, sing! When everything is falling apart, sing praise for what will always hold firm! In the face of injustice, sing! In the place of darkness, sing! There is always room, even in our darkest times, to find something for which to praise our gracious and loving God!
This week's song choices: The Summons is a parish favorite, naming the different kinds of people and personally risky actions one must approach to be a follower of Jesus; it's not unlike "A Place at the Table," which the Ensemble will be singing at the Preparation. The Magnificat text is perfect for any Sunday when the scriptures speak about God's putting down of the proud and raising up the poor and lowly; plus I just love "Holy is your Name," even if it is based upon a non-sacred Irish folk tune. Perhaps just because I'd never heard the tune before I heard it set to these words, it seems incredibly prayerful to me. We used it as our closing prayer for the choir at tonight's rehearsal, and it was so lovely...
"A New Commandment" for Communion sort of pulls together all of these calls to live in prayer and reaching out to those we might not otherwise touch, calling us to "love one another" as Christ has loved us. Hard to beat that...and at the 10:45 we'll do it coming right out of "O How Sweet," the little English motet the choir will sing at the beginning of Communion: "O, how sweet, O Lord, is thy spirit, for thou hast shown thy sweetness unto thy children. Thou hast given them most wondrous bread from heaven; thou fillest the hungry with good things, and the rich thou sendest empty away." And then we move into, "I give you a new commandment: love one another as I have loved you." Sort of mirrors the "sending" action of the Mass--we gather, we share the Word, we gather at the Table, and we are sent out to be Christ for the world.
You are the Voice, our closing, is a rousing and fun one the parish loves; for the first time we're having the choir and ensemble learn the harmony parts for the last refrain, which should sort of fill out the sound a bit. Again, it's a song of sending: "You are the voice of the living God, calling us now to live in your love, to be children of God once again." Theologically, I guess it's sort of ambiguous regarding who the voice of the living God is...are we singing to God? to one another? do we really need to know?:-)
Anyway, THIS is the voice of one tired choir director who needs to get up tomorrow to take her kid to school, and really doesn't need to still be in the office at 11:00pm. So...signing off...
peace,
Jennifer
—Jennifer Kerr Budziak
Opening: The Summons (GC 687)
Psalm: 113—Praise the Lord who lifts up the poor (PRM C95)
Presentation: Holy is your Name (GC 83)
Communion: A New Commandment (WS 592)
Closing: You are the Voice (GC 538)
Choir: O How Sweet, O Lord (Healy Willan)--sung at the beginning of Communion
--this is a beautiful little motet I discovered probably in college, while I was singing at the National Shrine. Very short, very lovely, not too difficult but musically very expressive...it's a great "first" anthem for the choir season, and it's Magnificat-like themes fit the Sunday perfectly. For some weird reason it's out of print...
Ensemble: A Place at the Table (Murray/True)--sung at the Preparation, with Holy is your Name replacing The Summons at the opening
--another lovely one; combines lyricism with a comfortably syncopated melody, and the Ensemble likes it a lot. The syncopation would make it a little difficult for a congregation, but it makes a perfect contemporary choral piece. I will also probably have the Ensemble do a little prelude of "Halleluya, we sing your praises"--I'm not sure I'll be up for doing choral preludes every single Sunday; it just feels sort of odd to me. I'd rather mix choral with instrumental week by week. But if the assembly keeps singing, and if having the choir "present" something before the liturgy begins can be done in a way that helps people move into their prayer, and encourages rather than stifles singing, I certainly won't object to it, and it seems to be something they really want! We'll see...
(much of the below is taken from my Staff Notes for this week's bulletin, but music stuff comes at the bottom...)
Praise, you servants of the Lord!
Throughout this autumn season, as we move toward the end of our liturgical year, the readings we hear on Sundays will become more and more challenging. In the first reading on this 25th Sunday in Ordinary Time we hear the prophet Amos crying out against those whose greed and desire for worldly treasure cause them to abandon their worship and tread upon the poor and needy. The passage is harsh and condemning, fierce and relentless...
And the psalm that follows it cries out, “Praise the Lord! Praise the Lord who lifts up the poor!”
Often we think of the psalm as merely a “response” to the first reading; actually, its title as the “Responsorial Psalm” comes not from its purpose as a “response” to a reading but simply from its form of singing: “responsorial” singing, as far back as Gregorian Chant, has involved a dialogue between a leader (or cantor) and the larger assembly. The Psalm holds its place as part of the proclamation of the Word—it is a reading from Scripture which happens to be sung rather than spoken. That is why the Psalm is always proclaimed from the ambo, where the readings are heard, rather than from the microphone from which the cantor leads the rest of the singing.
Still, the psalms for each Sunday were chosen to link with the Gospel and Old Testament readings for each week, and this one is a glorious “response” to the cry of Amos: he calls out a message of doom and anguish, and amidst the anger and injustice perpetrated by those who care nothing for God, the psalmist still finds a voice of praise: “Praise the Lord who lifts up the poor! God raises the lowly from the dust...he lifts up the poor to seat them with princes...blessed be the name of the Lord, now and forever!”
This is a powerful reminder, and one which any of us who love music and singing should hold to heart: when the road is difficult, sing! When everything is falling apart, sing praise for what will always hold firm! In the face of injustice, sing! In the place of darkness, sing! There is always room, even in our darkest times, to find something for which to praise our gracious and loving God!
This week's song choices: The Summons is a parish favorite, naming the different kinds of people and personally risky actions one must approach to be a follower of Jesus; it's not unlike "A Place at the Table," which the Ensemble will be singing at the Preparation. The Magnificat text is perfect for any Sunday when the scriptures speak about God's putting down of the proud and raising up the poor and lowly; plus I just love "Holy is your Name," even if it is based upon a non-sacred Irish folk tune. Perhaps just because I'd never heard the tune before I heard it set to these words, it seems incredibly prayerful to me. We used it as our closing prayer for the choir at tonight's rehearsal, and it was so lovely...
"A New Commandment" for Communion sort of pulls together all of these calls to live in prayer and reaching out to those we might not otherwise touch, calling us to "love one another" as Christ has loved us. Hard to beat that...and at the 10:45 we'll do it coming right out of "O How Sweet," the little English motet the choir will sing at the beginning of Communion: "O, how sweet, O Lord, is thy spirit, for thou hast shown thy sweetness unto thy children. Thou hast given them most wondrous bread from heaven; thou fillest the hungry with good things, and the rich thou sendest empty away." And then we move into, "I give you a new commandment: love one another as I have loved you." Sort of mirrors the "sending" action of the Mass--we gather, we share the Word, we gather at the Table, and we are sent out to be Christ for the world.
You are the Voice, our closing, is a rousing and fun one the parish loves; for the first time we're having the choir and ensemble learn the harmony parts for the last refrain, which should sort of fill out the sound a bit. Again, it's a song of sending: "You are the voice of the living God, calling us now to live in your love, to be children of God once again." Theologically, I guess it's sort of ambiguous regarding who the voice of the living God is...are we singing to God? to one another? do we really need to know?:-)
Anyway, THIS is the voice of one tired choir director who needs to get up tomorrow to take her kid to school, and really doesn't need to still be in the office at 11:00pm. So...signing off...
peace,
Jennifer
—Jennifer Kerr Budziak
Sunday, September 16, 2007
September 16--What I learned
This week I learned that no matter how well one plans, and no matter if the "short form" of the Gospel has ever been used in the 5 years I've been here, that under Murphy's Law the week you pick all music to totally fit the parable of the Prodigal Son the only priest with two liturgies will decide to use the short form of the Gospel, which--surprise surprise--does not contain the parable of the Prodigal Son.
Sigh.
Fortunately, I also learned that lots of the music for the Prodigal Son also fits for the other readings pretty well.:-)
peace,
Jennifer
Sigh.
Fortunately, I also learned that lots of the music for the Prodigal Son also fits for the other readings pretty well.:-)
peace,
Jennifer
Saturday, September 15, 2007
September 16, 24th Sunday in Ordinary Time
Opening: Amazing Grace (GC 586)
Psalm: 51—PRM C94, “I will rise and go to my father”
Presentation: Our Father, we have wandered (GC 849)
Communion: Draw Near (GC 829)
Closing: This is a day of new beginnings (GC 453)
Does anyone not love the parable of the Prodigal Son? Is there any story that hits closer to home, gives everyone something to identify with, and illustrates the sheer abundant generosity of God?
I remember this now, too--this is that Sunday near the end of Cycle C when the heavy weight of judgment, doom, and gloom in the readings lifts for a minute to remind us that as much as we screw up or ignore or forget the things we know deep in our being (the things "written on our hearts," as Jeremiah said), God's ridiculously generous and abundant love will always open arms to bring us back.
My absolute favorite author in the whole world is (and has been since I was about 9 years old and discovered "A Wrinkle in Time") Madeleine L'Engle; she has written at great length about this great and loving generosity of God, infinite forgiveness, infinite love, and through her writings I have come to understand it far more than I ever could have on my own. And then early this week I discovered that she died last week, on September 6, at age 88. I met her only once, at a talk she gave while I was in college, and yet I feel as though one of my best friends, wisest teachers, a sister, a mother, a shining light has left the world. I cried a lot this week.
But...I have a new name to add to my personal litany of saints (along with St. Johann Sebastian, St. Johannes Brahms, St. Thomas Stearns Eliot, St. Joseph Bernadin, and the like...:-)--St. Madeleine L'Engle can now be added.
The music for this week (right, that was the original purpose of this post, wasn't it?) all but picked itself: Amazing Grace is a hymn everyone knows and loves to sing, and its "I once was lost but now am found" line directly quotes the gospel. The presentation hymn, "Our Father, we have wandered," likewise directly references the Prodigal Son story, but it is set to the familiar "Passion Chorale" tune (usually "O Sacred Head.") The unconscious subtext I've always gotten from this--well, not so unconcious now that I'm naming it--is that every time we do wander away and sqander the incredible gifts given us by our loving God we crucify him again, and again, daily, moment by moment. And he bears it, aches, and yet rises up with even more love than before.
"Draw Near," as a communion song, is sort of intended to pull us into this sacrifice, this sharing of body and blood for our sake--to face the Passion and not pull back, to draw near to this prodigal father who knows all we've done and loves us still.
(Digression: from the movie Dogma--Alanis Morrisette recorded the song that's over the closing credits, and it's called "Still." It names in frightening detail the atrocities of the human race, and each verse ends with "And I love you still...I love you still..." It's heart-wrenching and in my opinion a must-hear.)
(The song, that is. Please only rent the movie if you're pretty difficult to offend and have a very relaxed sense of humor about Catholicism...and don't mind pretty horrible language and lots of violence. I happen to find it pretty funny in terms of some of the plot points and really witty dialogue--put it this way, the movie starts with two angels who once angered God by disobeying a command and were thus exiled, not to Hell, but to Wisconsin for all eternity...and George Carlin plays the Archbishop...but Matt Damon and Ben Affleck are easy on the eyes:-) (Oh, and by the way, its R rating is honestly earned, the language is pretty appalling--I wouldn't in a gajillion years let anyone under probably college age watch it.)
ANYWAY...and the closing song, "This is a day of new beginnings, " is there for twofold reasons: one, we haven't done it in a while and it was new last Easter, and we ought to get it back into people's voices; besides, there's no reason we can't sing about Easter at other times of year--Sunday is a "little Easter" every week, after all. Also, it too fits the flow of the readings and music: God is ever offering us the opportunity to start fresh: "Our God is making all things new! Our God is making all things new!" (I love the way the song says it twice...just to make a point.:-)
This is what we call getting in under the wire...Andrew is probably over there as I type this waiting to rehearse for the Saturday 5pm liturgy, so I'd best get going.
St. Madeleine of Crosswicks, pray for us!
peace,
Jennifer
Opening: Amazing Grace (GC 586)
Psalm: 51—PRM C94, “I will rise and go to my father”
Presentation: Our Father, we have wandered (GC 849)
Communion: Draw Near (GC 829)
Closing: This is a day of new beginnings (GC 453)
Does anyone not love the parable of the Prodigal Son? Is there any story that hits closer to home, gives everyone something to identify with, and illustrates the sheer abundant generosity of God?
I remember this now, too--this is that Sunday near the end of Cycle C when the heavy weight of judgment, doom, and gloom in the readings lifts for a minute to remind us that as much as we screw up or ignore or forget the things we know deep in our being (the things "written on our hearts," as Jeremiah said), God's ridiculously generous and abundant love will always open arms to bring us back.
My absolute favorite author in the whole world is (and has been since I was about 9 years old and discovered "A Wrinkle in Time") Madeleine L'Engle; she has written at great length about this great and loving generosity of God, infinite forgiveness, infinite love, and through her writings I have come to understand it far more than I ever could have on my own. And then early this week I discovered that she died last week, on September 6, at age 88. I met her only once, at a talk she gave while I was in college, and yet I feel as though one of my best friends, wisest teachers, a sister, a mother, a shining light has left the world. I cried a lot this week.
But...I have a new name to add to my personal litany of saints (along with St. Johann Sebastian, St. Johannes Brahms, St. Thomas Stearns Eliot, St. Joseph Bernadin, and the like...:-)--St. Madeleine L'Engle can now be added.
The music for this week (right, that was the original purpose of this post, wasn't it?) all but picked itself: Amazing Grace is a hymn everyone knows and loves to sing, and its "I once was lost but now am found" line directly quotes the gospel. The presentation hymn, "Our Father, we have wandered," likewise directly references the Prodigal Son story, but it is set to the familiar "Passion Chorale" tune (usually "O Sacred Head.") The unconscious subtext I've always gotten from this--well, not so unconcious now that I'm naming it--is that every time we do wander away and sqander the incredible gifts given us by our loving God we crucify him again, and again, daily, moment by moment. And he bears it, aches, and yet rises up with even more love than before.
"Draw Near," as a communion song, is sort of intended to pull us into this sacrifice, this sharing of body and blood for our sake--to face the Passion and not pull back, to draw near to this prodigal father who knows all we've done and loves us still.
(Digression: from the movie Dogma--Alanis Morrisette recorded the song that's over the closing credits, and it's called "Still." It names in frightening detail the atrocities of the human race, and each verse ends with "And I love you still...I love you still..." It's heart-wrenching and in my opinion a must-hear.)
(The song, that is. Please only rent the movie if you're pretty difficult to offend and have a very relaxed sense of humor about Catholicism...and don't mind pretty horrible language and lots of violence. I happen to find it pretty funny in terms of some of the plot points and really witty dialogue--put it this way, the movie starts with two angels who once angered God by disobeying a command and were thus exiled, not to Hell, but to Wisconsin for all eternity...and George Carlin plays the Archbishop...but Matt Damon and Ben Affleck are easy on the eyes:-) (Oh, and by the way, its R rating is honestly earned, the language is pretty appalling--I wouldn't in a gajillion years let anyone under probably college age watch it.)
ANYWAY...and the closing song, "This is a day of new beginnings, " is there for twofold reasons: one, we haven't done it in a while and it was new last Easter, and we ought to get it back into people's voices; besides, there's no reason we can't sing about Easter at other times of year--Sunday is a "little Easter" every week, after all. Also, it too fits the flow of the readings and music: God is ever offering us the opportunity to start fresh: "Our God is making all things new! Our God is making all things new!" (I love the way the song says it twice...just to make a point.:-)
This is what we call getting in under the wire...Andrew is probably over there as I type this waiting to rehearse for the Saturday 5pm liturgy, so I'd best get going.
St. Madeleine of Crosswicks, pray for us!
peace,
Jennifer
Thursday, September 13, 2007
Two down, one to go...
Last night the 10:45 choir had its first rehearsal. As usual, our first rehearsal of the year was sort of a mad sing-through (or touch-through) of all the choral music we'll be singing through the season. It was crazy and fun and chaotic and utterly thrilling. The reading ability of this group is growing by leaps and bounds, and the level of the music we are able not only to handle but to actually master is rising dramatically each season.
And we have 5 new members! That's another great excitement, and it begins to bear out my "bell curve" theory of recruitment with a "new" music director. The first few years one only gets a couple of new folks, then there may even be a year or two when no new members join, and then membership starts to pick up. And the real fun of it is that the larger the choir is, the less threatening it is for new people to join, and membership can eventually settle into a steady increase. We'll see if it works...:-)
The "big" piece we have planned for Christmas is Haydn's gorgeous "The Heavens are Telling" from The Creation. I love the piece; it's so fun and joyous, and it's both challenging and accessible. And while it's not "Christmassy" per se, the image of the heavens proclaiming God's glory on the night we celebrate the star in the heavens is one with which I'm perfectly content!
Tuesday the Youth Choir had its first practice; the numbers are a bit thin, mostly because there are a lot of sports activities in the fall, especially for the 5th graders. This happens every year, actually--there's a huge membership surge in late October sometime. And I have my nice strong junior high folks back, and a group of really solid and fun fourth graders, so when the 5th graders return there'll be plenty of folks!
Tonight is the first rehearsal of the Ensemble; I'm really looking forward to seeing and making music with the group once again...
peace,
Jennifer
And we have 5 new members! That's another great excitement, and it begins to bear out my "bell curve" theory of recruitment with a "new" music director. The first few years one only gets a couple of new folks, then there may even be a year or two when no new members join, and then membership starts to pick up. And the real fun of it is that the larger the choir is, the less threatening it is for new people to join, and membership can eventually settle into a steady increase. We'll see if it works...:-)
The "big" piece we have planned for Christmas is Haydn's gorgeous "The Heavens are Telling" from The Creation. I love the piece; it's so fun and joyous, and it's both challenging and accessible. And while it's not "Christmassy" per se, the image of the heavens proclaiming God's glory on the night we celebrate the star in the heavens is one with which I'm perfectly content!
Tuesday the Youth Choir had its first practice; the numbers are a bit thin, mostly because there are a lot of sports activities in the fall, especially for the 5th graders. This happens every year, actually--there's a huge membership surge in late October sometime. And I have my nice strong junior high folks back, and a group of really solid and fun fourth graders, so when the 5th graders return there'll be plenty of folks!
Tonight is the first rehearsal of the Ensemble; I'm really looking forward to seeing and making music with the group once again...
peace,
Jennifer
Monday, September 10, 2007
Time and psalmody (what I learned)
What I learned this week:
I learned that some weeks, especially early in the season when I'm frantically trying to get 3 choirs ready for their first rehearsals of the year and a particularly thorny cantor schedule out into the world, it is very difficult to get the "music summary" blog postings up. I missed the 23rd Sunday--Sorry!! (to the 4 people who so far read this blog...)
So, somewhat posthumously:
September 9, 23rd Sunday in Ordinary Time
Opening: Take up your cross (GC 690)
Psalm: 90-- PRM C93, “In every age, O Lord”
Presentation: The Summons (GC 687)
Communion: Here I am, Lord (GC 671)
Closing: Canticle of the Sun (GC 495)
The PRM (Psalms and Ritual Music, the 3-cycle psalter books from World Library) psalms do have a tendency to be a bit pedestrian, and are clearly composed so that the words will dominate and the melody will be less memorable and fabulous. (Well, I doubt the composers sit down and say, "Aha! I want to write a pedestrian and non-fabulous melody that people will be able to sing but will immediately forget!"--but the basic priority is fidelity to the text and immediacy of apprehension (I use too many big words...just People Can Sing It Right Away is all I mean there), not deep heart-felt inspiration that will make people go, "Oh, my GOD, that was so BEAUTIFUL, I could just FEEL the wings of the spirit as you sang..." etc. and so forth. These settings exist to highlight the text, to permit the text to shine through a simple setting. (I'm also finding that the more the cantors become comfortable with this mode of proclamation, the more "shining" the text becomes...some of them are really getting the hang of this chanting, and it's lovely.)
Brief digression: as a church, we North-American types (they're even worse in Britain:-) have a tendency to hear "Responsorial Psalm" and think "Response to the first reading." While the psalm was chosen to relate to the first reading, just as the first reading was chosen to relate to the Gospel, it is not so much simply a "response" than an actual proclamation of the Word of God--just a sung proclamation rather than a spoken one, because the Psalms were created as poetry to be chanted or sung. Therefore composers in recent times have put out greater efforts to highlight the difference between the Responsorial Psalm and the other sung music within the liturgy. The word "Responsorial" refers simply to the manner in which it is sung: "responsorial" singing involves a dialogue between cantor and assembly. In an ideal world (or when the psalm of the week is particularly familiar), you may notice that the cantor won't even sing the people's part with them--in a dialogue, which is what the Responsorial Psalm is meant to be, it is important not just for each party to get to speak/sing, but for each party to take turns BEING QUIET and allowing the Other to take their turn. No one wants to be in a dialogue with someone who won't ever shut their mouth, right?:-)
ANYWAY...Steve Janco's setting of Psalm 90, from this week's liturgy, was a particularly beautiful setting of the text--the kind of rare refrain which remains in the head after the liturgy with the words attached so that it keeps on singing after you're done. (Okay, I did get to play/hear/sing it 4 times, which gives me an advantage...) I even used it as my prelude improv this week, and it was lovely on its own even without the text...
This week the Youth Choir, Cherub Choir, Parish Choir, and the Choral/Instrumental Ensemble all have their first rehearsal. I'm going nuts. But excited...this is the best part of the year, in many ways, there's just so much more fun and creative stuff to do than there is time to do it all...
peace,
Jennifer
I learned that some weeks, especially early in the season when I'm frantically trying to get 3 choirs ready for their first rehearsals of the year and a particularly thorny cantor schedule out into the world, it is very difficult to get the "music summary" blog postings up. I missed the 23rd Sunday--Sorry!! (to the 4 people who so far read this blog...)
So, somewhat posthumously:
September 9, 23rd Sunday in Ordinary Time
Opening: Take up your cross (GC 690)
Psalm: 90-- PRM C93, “In every age, O Lord”
Presentation: The Summons (GC 687)
Communion: Here I am, Lord (GC 671)
Closing: Canticle of the Sun (GC 495)
The PRM (Psalms and Ritual Music, the 3-cycle psalter books from World Library) psalms do have a tendency to be a bit pedestrian, and are clearly composed so that the words will dominate and the melody will be less memorable and fabulous. (Well, I doubt the composers sit down and say, "Aha! I want to write a pedestrian and non-fabulous melody that people will be able to sing but will immediately forget!"--but the basic priority is fidelity to the text and immediacy of apprehension (I use too many big words...just People Can Sing It Right Away is all I mean there), not deep heart-felt inspiration that will make people go, "Oh, my GOD, that was so BEAUTIFUL, I could just FEEL the wings of the spirit as you sang..." etc. and so forth. These settings exist to highlight the text, to permit the text to shine through a simple setting. (I'm also finding that the more the cantors become comfortable with this mode of proclamation, the more "shining" the text becomes...some of them are really getting the hang of this chanting, and it's lovely.)
Brief digression: as a church, we North-American types (they're even worse in Britain:-) have a tendency to hear "Responsorial Psalm" and think "Response to the first reading." While the psalm was chosen to relate to the first reading, just as the first reading was chosen to relate to the Gospel, it is not so much simply a "response" than an actual proclamation of the Word of God--just a sung proclamation rather than a spoken one, because the Psalms were created as poetry to be chanted or sung. Therefore composers in recent times have put out greater efforts to highlight the difference between the Responsorial Psalm and the other sung music within the liturgy. The word "Responsorial" refers simply to the manner in which it is sung: "responsorial" singing involves a dialogue between cantor and assembly. In an ideal world (or when the psalm of the week is particularly familiar), you may notice that the cantor won't even sing the people's part with them--in a dialogue, which is what the Responsorial Psalm is meant to be, it is important not just for each party to get to speak/sing, but for each party to take turns BEING QUIET and allowing the Other to take their turn. No one wants to be in a dialogue with someone who won't ever shut their mouth, right?:-)
ANYWAY...Steve Janco's setting of Psalm 90, from this week's liturgy, was a particularly beautiful setting of the text--the kind of rare refrain which remains in the head after the liturgy with the words attached so that it keeps on singing after you're done. (Okay, I did get to play/hear/sing it 4 times, which gives me an advantage...) I even used it as my prelude improv this week, and it was lovely on its own even without the text...
This week the Youth Choir, Cherub Choir, Parish Choir, and the Choral/Instrumental Ensemble all have their first rehearsal. I'm going nuts. But excited...this is the best part of the year, in many ways, there's just so much more fun and creative stuff to do than there is time to do it all...
peace,
Jennifer
Tuesday, September 4, 2007
Honor and abundance (what I learned)
This was an interesting Sunday...as it turned out, the preachers didn't head in the direction I expected them to at all, and most of the liturgies had some change of music, mainly at the Preparation.
Fr. Ken addressed the whole idea of banquets and hosting and relationships with those with whom we gather; we did "All are Welcome" at the liturgy he presided at. And Fr. Barron focused on the idea of Jesus calling everyone from every corner of the world to share in the abundant feast together--that there is this table of great abundance set before us, and we have a tendency to become "addicted to honor"--to spend so much time worrying about how we are viewed and where our station is within a social structure that we completely miss the wonder of the great feast and gift...he got "Come to the Banquet." (I confess: I was still pretty sleepy at 7:30 and didn't pay good enough attention to Brendan's homily...sorry, Father!:-)
The rest of the music fit very well--At That First Eucharist was exactly right, Blest are They hit it right on the head, and We are Called was a nice solid ending, shifting the focus from our inward welcoming and abundance to the world outward which calls us to bring that gift of plenty into its barren places.
What I learned...well, I'm not sure there's much of interest to say I learned this week. I learned that it's probably time to give loving and pastoral nudges to those among the cantors who are accustomed to coming in a little later than they should, and invite them to arrive at least 15 minutes before liturgy, not because they necessarily need 12 minutes of rehearsal but because it's good for everyone's blood pressure. And the readings and homilies gave me a lot to reflect on from my own life: I wish I could say "I learned that shouldn't worry so much about being perfect, or about appearing perfect and never making mistakes." I make mistakes, and I feel like I'm making a lot more of them lately than I usually do. And then I beat myself up, and I lie awake at night formulating my list of excuses and hoping the more I repeat them to myself the more valid they will sound. (Doesn't work. Don't waste your time on this one.) So I haven't exactly learned that particular lesson, but it's very kind of the Holy Spirit to give me hopeful refreshers every now and again.
I also learned that Labor Day really neither needs nor wants a patriotic hymn, so the preceding post should probably have waited for next May.:-)
Happy September!
peace,
Jennifer
Fr. Ken addressed the whole idea of banquets and hosting and relationships with those with whom we gather; we did "All are Welcome" at the liturgy he presided at. And Fr. Barron focused on the idea of Jesus calling everyone from every corner of the world to share in the abundant feast together--that there is this table of great abundance set before us, and we have a tendency to become "addicted to honor"--to spend so much time worrying about how we are viewed and where our station is within a social structure that we completely miss the wonder of the great feast and gift...he got "Come to the Banquet." (I confess: I was still pretty sleepy at 7:30 and didn't pay good enough attention to Brendan's homily...sorry, Father!:-)
The rest of the music fit very well--At That First Eucharist was exactly right, Blest are They hit it right on the head, and We are Called was a nice solid ending, shifting the focus from our inward welcoming and abundance to the world outward which calls us to bring that gift of plenty into its barren places.
What I learned...well, I'm not sure there's much of interest to say I learned this week. I learned that it's probably time to give loving and pastoral nudges to those among the cantors who are accustomed to coming in a little later than they should, and invite them to arrive at least 15 minutes before liturgy, not because they necessarily need 12 minutes of rehearsal but because it's good for everyone's blood pressure. And the readings and homilies gave me a lot to reflect on from my own life: I wish I could say "I learned that shouldn't worry so much about being perfect, or about appearing perfect and never making mistakes." I make mistakes, and I feel like I'm making a lot more of them lately than I usually do. And then I beat myself up, and I lie awake at night formulating my list of excuses and hoping the more I repeat them to myself the more valid they will sound. (Doesn't work. Don't waste your time on this one.) So I haven't exactly learned that particular lesson, but it's very kind of the Holy Spirit to give me hopeful refreshers every now and again.
I also learned that Labor Day really neither needs nor wants a patriotic hymn, so the preceding post should probably have waited for next May.:-)
Happy September!
peace,
Jennifer
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