Does Liturgical power corrupt? Or does it set us free?

I recently spoke with a confrere, during which I complained bitterly about a school based liturgy I had to endure which was comprised entirely of Hillsong music.

His response to me was abrupt and unapologetic:

‘Use your power to change the music that is used or played’, he said.

‘I am not in a position to make such changes’, I replied.

‘Well then’, he continued, ‘Work at getting yourself into a position where you do have that power and put a stop to it and tell people that the music is theologically incorrect and is not to be used’.

This conversation has stayed with me now for over a week and I find myself in a bit of a dilemma over how to wield liturgical power in a way that is pastorally accommodating and sensitive to the needs of others. In fact, the more I pursue Liturgy in an academic way and the more I learn about the ministerial function of music – the more I get frustrated by what I see happening [or not happening] around me.

Do I follow the advice of my confrere and work hard at securing the power, prestige and position within a faith community to shape -and in essence - *control* what music is to be played? He didn’t have a bother with this notion – but I am experiencing great tension with this thought.

I have great reservations about wielding liturgical power because I have experienced first hand the devastating effects of those who have come down heavy on me and others I know – who, while having liturgical knowledge – have been totally devoid of any pastoral fibre in their body. They have employed a rigid rubric approach to Liturgy – held it as absolute - and left no room for the feelings or welfare of others. This can be extremely crushing and if not done tactfully [as I experienced] can leave people resentful, wounded and bitter. This is not good!

I sometimes feel with all the new information coming my way – all the books on Liturgy and Liturgical Music I read – that I am becoming increasingly intolerant and angry at what I see happening around me in Liturgical settings. Dare I say it, I sometimes feel as thought I might be etching towards the kind of intolerance and ‘liturgical absolutism’ employed by the individual mentioned above. This scares me and I don’t like it.

It is fascinating that nearly all people who I have met who call themselves ‘Liturgists’ – or students of Liturgy – have a very high and mighty self opinionated confidence about them. They seem to revel in the Liturgical knowledge they have – and wave it around almost like a flag of ‘I-know-this-and-you-don’t-so-you-better-take-heed-of-what-I-am-saying-because-I-have-studied-this-area-and-I-have-all-the-answers’ type of attitude. Does the acquisition of Liturgical knowledge – which can form an intoxicating sense of power automatically lead to a corruption of the individual in question - and therefore block the pastoral needs of others?

On the other hand – does Liturgical knowledge and power set us free? Does it help us in constructing liturgical practice that is life giving and opens up more fully the heart of mystery? Does using the knowledge we come to know about Liturgy set us free and into the arms of Love?

I would like to think so – but what must be done to get to this point? Will we be able to fall freely into Love via the celebration of Liturgy if we have music that doesn’t help and enhance our understanding of the rite?

In his book ‘Visions of Liturgy and Music for a New Century’ Lucien Deiss states:

‘Each age experiences the need to sing to Christ according to its own charism, its own particular vision of the Christian message, and the sentiments that the Spirit awakens’.

This may be well and good – but what happens when the music of the ‘age’ – or the music of the ‘moment’ - such as Hillsong – is used as the music of choice in Catholic community worship?

Let me return to the school based liturgy I spoke about at the beginning of this blog. As people entered the worship space – Hillsong music was playing over the PA. After a brief introduction, ‘Shout to the Lord’ was played live. This was followed by another Hillsong piece played over the PA in conjunction with a slide show. The end of the Liturgy was another [!!] CD rendition of ‘Shout to the Lord’. The music continued on the PA as people recessed out of the sacred space. The lasting [and disturbing] memory I have of this *Liturgy* was of many many students singing on top note ‘Shout to the Lord’. Afterwards, the teachers were ecstatic saying how pleased they were to see the students singing. I didn’t share this sentiment.

In this instance, I felt the use of Hillsong music was not appropriate or – dare I say it! – liturgically correct. The theology presented in a song such as ‘Shout to the Lord’ presents an image of God that is removed and far away from us…so much so…we are encouraged to ‘Shout’ to God. Does not our contemporary post-Vatican II theology teach and inform us that we believe in a God who lives and breathes very much within our midst. To borrow a song title of David Haas…do we not believe instead that ‘God is Here’. [???]

There are other issues I have with Hillsong – the main fact is that it is written for Pentecostal praise and worship and not Catholic liturgy. Why then, do so many Catholics use it incessantly?

We don’t need to replace it with old school Catholic hymnody…there are a plethora of new contemporary Catholic composers that write explicitly for Catholic Liturgy – that play in a musical style not dissimilar to Hillsong – but with a theology that is conducive to Catholic liturgical practice. Why do we still opt for this rubbish?

But how do I proceed? Do I exert liturgical authority and say this kind of music should not be played because its theology is not consistent with contemporary Catholic liturgy?

From where I stand – I would see such removal of Hillsong music as a perfect example of Liturgical power setting us free from erroneous theology into a deeper understanding of sung prayer. But surely this enforcement would come at a cost to those musicians and ‘ministers of the play button’ who are hooked on Hillsong. They could be crushed by such a move on my part. I don’t want this to happen – because I have been crushed before and I didn’t like it one iota.

I feel like I am the world’s first pastorally sensitive Liturgist.

The tension is enormous.