How I blush! My good friend Rory Cooney quoted and invoked this blog in his own blog (a good one! Check it out-- http://web.mac.com/stannerory/iWeb/bloggage/New_Blog/New_Blog.html), inviting people to come over here and see what I'm doing...and I have missed the past two Sundays! Sigh...I look down and see the good intentions paving the road I'm on, and it makes me wonder where the road is headed...
I do have some small excuse...we've just been through the flurry of birthdays at my house, especially my little Bear's turning 5. One weekend we had the "actual" birthday (cupcakes for school, homemade cake for family, frenzied cleaning so that in-laws think my house is always that clean), the next we had the 15 screaming kids My Gym party (keeping track of RSVP's, ordering cake, buying party favors, overseeing thank you notes)...I don't know why I thought the mom gig would get easier as the kids got bigger.
But thanks to Rory's kind kick in the rear, I'll try to get back on track. So:
In contrast with the readings in the weeks before and after this one (I think next week we get the martyrdom of the woman and her seven sons...that's a joy to plan music for, NOT), I love this week. It's one of those lovely sets of readings where it all speaks to the same reality of faith and life as children of Christ: Sirach's promise that God will hear the prayer of the lowly, Paul's open trust in the uncertainty to come and gratitude for what has been, and especially the gloriously abject humility of the poor sad tax collector whom Jesus promises will be heard and exalted by God...it remindes me of Marguerite of Porete's vision of the soul so cast down and annihilated in her own reality that she becomes nothing more than the empty vessel and reflection of all that God is, with sorrow so deep that it is no longer sorrow, and joy so exalted that it transcends joy, and is it all simply God.
From this perspective, the music almost chooses itself:
October 28, 30th Sunday in Ordinary Time
Prelude (9:00--Youth Choir): A Place at the Table
The Ensemble sang this a few weeks ago; I think it will have a different impact as a prelude than at Prep or Communion as we usually use it: a call to everyone, young and old, just and unjust, and of the delight God takes in our efforts to look beyond ourselves and become "creators of justice and joy."
Opening: O Christ, the Great Foundation (at 9:00: Gathered as One)
I chose this one as much for verse 3 as for any of it, although the whole hymn is apt. It speaks of the oppression in the world and calls upon the church to "awaken" and strive to right the imbalances.
When the children's choir sings, we generally try to stay away from the very "wordy" strophic hymns, although they could probably have handled this one. "Gathered as one" is a really lovely contemporary Paul Tate song--I hate to use the word "generic," because nothing we do should be generic, but it's one of those songs that's almost always works.
Psalm: 34--The Cry of the Poor
This is where I'd definitely say go read Rory's blog for this week! I found his comments on Conry's comments about this song very interesting, but I don't know that I quite agree. For me, the very power in this song lies in the juxtaposition of what's essentially a very joyful and victorious text with a melody that's wistful or even outright sad. This psalm setting almost personifies this hopeful/sorrowful ambiguity in the readings for the Sunday, and the need to sing praise while owning our sadness that the vision is stil woefully incomplete, and musically it feels almost like the linchpin on which the whole liturgy's music depends.
Presentation: (at 9:00--Youth Choir: Bring Forth the Kingdom)
A joyful Beatitudes-based justics song--lots of fun, and the kids will be singing in canon, if enough of them show up to make it work!
other liturgies: Only This I Want
Okay, maybe not so joyful, but it's so gorgeous, and right out of the second reading. One of the "Glory and Praise" generation songs that well deserves to stick around for a few more decades at least! It's also one of the many songs I wish all these bloody liturgical tenor composers would take down a whole step or so. It's just too stinkin' high. Makes people stop singing. That's never a good thing. Put it in the same category as We have been Told, All who Hunger, We are Called, etc.
Communion: (at 5:00 Saturday--Ensemble: In You, O Lord, Ed Bolduc)
Another of Ed's more gorgeous offerings, incredibly simple, very effective. One of those comforting songs that sort of combs out one's tangles whether one wants it to happen or not.
Draw Near (Janco)
A parish favorite, in many ways also one of our more "all-purpose" Communion songs, but the whole invitation to "draw near, draw near" is very appropriate to this week and season--it speaks to the disgraced tax collector in all of us, the part that wants to hide in back and stay away, to hide the parts of us we think God shouldn't see...and yet we still are called to draw near, draw close, warts and all. (I find this very comforting; I'm feeling very spiritually warty this week.)
Closing: How can I Keep From Singing
I kind of feel like if anyone's read this far, they won't need me to say much about this song and why we're singing it!
It's been a rough couple of weeks, though I'm not really sure why. I haven't been sleeping enough, which is nothing new, but I can't bounce back from it the way I used to when I was younger. I had a birthday last weekend myself, and I'll go ahead and post it right here in black and white: I'm 39 years old. For some reason I find the "liminal" ages more threatening than the actual milestone years themselves--29 was hard, 30 was great. 20 was hard, 21 was great. Probably 40 will be absolutely fine, but 39 I'm finding somewhat traumatic.:-)
And I'll say it here for the record: when I turn 40 I want a cake big enough that it can have 40 candles, which I intend to blow out in one puff. That all may know I'm not even remotely decrepit. Yet.
peace,
Jennifer
Friday, October 26, 2007
Wednesday, October 3, 2007
October 7, 27th Sunday in Ordinary Time
October 7, 27th Sunday in Ordinary Time
Prelude (Saturday 5pm): One is the Body
Opening: This is a day of new beginnings (GC 453)
Psalm: 95—If Today you hear his voice (PRM C97)
Presentation: Lord, whose love in humble service (WS 674)
At 10:45: The Love of Christ compels us
Communion:
At 5pm Saturday (Ensemble): Come and let us worship God! (Uganda)
At 10:45 Sunday (choir): This is the Body of Christ (Bell)
All liturgies: Christ, be our light (GC 512)
Closing: Come, Holy Spirit, wind and fire (WS 531)
Another difficult week for which to select music! I tried to stress the themes of hope, faith, and humility in the music selections. The general aura of patience and trust that comes through in the readings, the admonition to wait for the promise’s fulfillment and trust that even though we are not able to see and touch it it is there for us at the right moment…the reminder that this is simply what we are called to do, humbly and without question…(in hindsight, “Eye has not Seen” would have been a good song for this Sunday as well…)
The prelude at the Saturday 5pm, Rory’s lovely “One is the Body,” is not so much tied to the readings themselves as it is a reminder that we are all one (as well as a very brief not to Respect Life Sunday, which by the way really gets my goat when people assume it’s about nothing but abortion and stem cell research and forget that respecting life includes taking care of those babies after they are born and working to eliminate the structures of oppression and poverty that lead women into this cycle of death, often not by their own “choice” at all…but that’s a rant for another day…) and responsible to one another. It’s a beautiful song, but Rory probably wins the “could this refrain be any longer” award on this song, J, which is probably why it’s not in the Gather II any longer…too bad, it’s a lovely lovely song.
“This is a day of new beginnings” is another of those “we know it but we haven’t sung it in a while” songs, honestly not particularly connected to the readings of the day either—but it never hurts to re-remind ourselves and each other that every Sunday is its own little Easter celebration, that Jesus is alive and risen amidst all the painful Stuff of life. “Lord, whose love” is another song which reminds us that it is our responsibility to serve and heal one another in the “hands-on” stuff of life, not in order to be thought of as wonderful and holy, but because that’s simply what we are “obliged to do” (as the Gospel, Luke 17:10, puts it.) The 10:45 choir is singing Jeff Honore’s “The love of Christ compels us” at the same liturgical moment; a great and fun piece, one of those ones where the SATB parts make the group sound larger than it is—and its message of how the “love of Christ urges us on” is very apt for this week.
At Communion we are singing “Christ, be our light” at all the liturgies, but at the 10:45 I’m trying something a little different: John Bell has a pretty little refrain, “This is the body of Christ,” which I love. We’ll sing it twice before Communion, then sing “Christ, be our light,” and then repeat the little Bell refrain at the end. We’ll see how it works! (Got that idea from Ed Foley years ago, but haven’t ever tried it per se…) The Ensemble's "pre-Communion" piece is the little Uganda song we learned last October...a charming little piece, great fun to sing.
And the closing, “Come, Holy Spirit, wind and fire” is another call for God to come into our midst, this time as Spirit, to inspire our Church into faith and action. It’s to the same melody as “Faith of our Fathers,” a gorgeous tune which I honestly have trouble programming today—it’s much too male-dominant, yes, but my bigger problem with it is the whole “Soldiers of Christ” (in the literal sense) perspective it comes from—not to impugn the loving sacrifice of our martyrs throughout history, but in a world of religious fanatic suicide bombers I have difficulty with lines like, “How blest would be thy children’s fate if they, like them, should die for thee!” and such…
Anyway, this new text is lovely and wonderful and the parish sings it well, so there we are!
On a personal note: this coming Sunday is also my son’s 5th birthday, which is both exciting and bittersweet—he’s getting so big! And I never forget that my time here in this parish is closely related to his birth: I was 6 months pregnant with him when I started in the parish a little over 5 years ago, and he was born literally the day of our first choir Sunday of my first season here.
Life changes a lot, doesn’t it? And it’s all so very, very good…
Peace,
Jennifer
Prelude (Saturday 5pm): One is the Body
Opening: This is a day of new beginnings (GC 453)
Psalm: 95—If Today you hear his voice (PRM C97)
Presentation: Lord, whose love in humble service (WS 674)
At 10:45: The Love of Christ compels us
Communion:
At 5pm Saturday (Ensemble): Come and let us worship God! (Uganda)
At 10:45 Sunday (choir): This is the Body of Christ (Bell)
All liturgies: Christ, be our light (GC 512)
Closing: Come, Holy Spirit, wind and fire (WS 531)
Another difficult week for which to select music! I tried to stress the themes of hope, faith, and humility in the music selections. The general aura of patience and trust that comes through in the readings, the admonition to wait for the promise’s fulfillment and trust that even though we are not able to see and touch it it is there for us at the right moment…the reminder that this is simply what we are called to do, humbly and without question…(in hindsight, “Eye has not Seen” would have been a good song for this Sunday as well…)
The prelude at the Saturday 5pm, Rory’s lovely “One is the Body,” is not so much tied to the readings themselves as it is a reminder that we are all one (as well as a very brief not to Respect Life Sunday, which by the way really gets my goat when people assume it’s about nothing but abortion and stem cell research and forget that respecting life includes taking care of those babies after they are born and working to eliminate the structures of oppression and poverty that lead women into this cycle of death, often not by their own “choice” at all…but that’s a rant for another day…) and responsible to one another. It’s a beautiful song, but Rory probably wins the “could this refrain be any longer” award on this song, J, which is probably why it’s not in the Gather II any longer…too bad, it’s a lovely lovely song.
“This is a day of new beginnings” is another of those “we know it but we haven’t sung it in a while” songs, honestly not particularly connected to the readings of the day either—but it never hurts to re-remind ourselves and each other that every Sunday is its own little Easter celebration, that Jesus is alive and risen amidst all the painful Stuff of life. “Lord, whose love” is another song which reminds us that it is our responsibility to serve and heal one another in the “hands-on” stuff of life, not in order to be thought of as wonderful and holy, but because that’s simply what we are “obliged to do” (as the Gospel, Luke 17:10, puts it.) The 10:45 choir is singing Jeff Honore’s “The love of Christ compels us” at the same liturgical moment; a great and fun piece, one of those ones where the SATB parts make the group sound larger than it is—and its message of how the “love of Christ urges us on” is very apt for this week.
At Communion we are singing “Christ, be our light” at all the liturgies, but at the 10:45 I’m trying something a little different: John Bell has a pretty little refrain, “This is the body of Christ,” which I love. We’ll sing it twice before Communion, then sing “Christ, be our light,” and then repeat the little Bell refrain at the end. We’ll see how it works! (Got that idea from Ed Foley years ago, but haven’t ever tried it per se…) The Ensemble's "pre-Communion" piece is the little Uganda song we learned last October...a charming little piece, great fun to sing.
And the closing, “Come, Holy Spirit, wind and fire” is another call for God to come into our midst, this time as Spirit, to inspire our Church into faith and action. It’s to the same melody as “Faith of our Fathers,” a gorgeous tune which I honestly have trouble programming today—it’s much too male-dominant, yes, but my bigger problem with it is the whole “Soldiers of Christ” (in the literal sense) perspective it comes from—not to impugn the loving sacrifice of our martyrs throughout history, but in a world of religious fanatic suicide bombers I have difficulty with lines like, “How blest would be thy children’s fate if they, like them, should die for thee!” and such…
Anyway, this new text is lovely and wonderful and the parish sings it well, so there we are!
On a personal note: this coming Sunday is also my son’s 5th birthday, which is both exciting and bittersweet—he’s getting so big! And I never forget that my time here in this parish is closely related to his birth: I was 6 months pregnant with him when I started in the parish a little over 5 years ago, and he was born literally the day of our first choir Sunday of my first season here.
Life changes a lot, doesn’t it? And it’s all so very, very good…
Peace,
Jennifer
Thursday, September 27, 2007
September 30, 26th Sunday in Ordinary Time
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
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
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
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