The Ministerial Function of Vigils

Earlier this year in wake of the Indonesian Tsunami disaster, my parish decided to have a Prayer Vigil. This idea of holding vigil [vigiliæ] is very old and dates back to the earliest moments of the Church.

And yet, the term vigil has crept into the vernacular and used so often that I would argue, for many, has lost its original meaning and liturgical significance.

We so often hear of families gathered around a dying relative ‘holding a bedside vigil’. Similarly, it is commonplace, particularly in school environments for people to gather as part of a ‘Prayer Vigil’ in the school Chapel upon the news of a member of the school community passing away [or extremely sick]. The other noticeable time for Vigil is perhaps best recognised on Holy Thursday after the Altar of Repose has been established and a Vigil is kept until the early hours of Good Friday.

What is the cause for this kind of liturgical activity?

There is early patristic evidence of Vigils. Tertullian in his Apologeticum [circa 197 CE] speaks of vigils being the normal act of a good Christian. [!] Later, the ascetic monk John Cassian in the fourth century gives us the first instance of the all night vigil being broken up into three ‘mini offices’ – what has become known as Nocturns. By the fifth century, St Benedict had established the monastic cursus [a complete cycle of praying the entire Psalter], influenced heavily by Roman customs of the time. Further a field in the Coptic Church of Egypt we see the use of the Psalmodia which indicates traces of an ancient night to morning vigil.

Biblical reference to Vigils can be found in the New Testament. In Matthew 26:38 while in Gethsemane, Jesus urges his disciples to ‘remain here and stay awake with me’. The early Christian Church as seen in the Acts of the Apostles display fervor for nocturnal prayerful activities, most dramatically seen in the story of Eutychus [Acts 20: 7-12]. In the Hebrew Scriptures there is evidence of vigil activity in Leviticus [23: 32] in describing correct prayerful observance for the Day of Atonement.

This is all fascinating background information – but there are perhaps more interesting questions to ask. Firstly, why did our parish feel compelled to hold vigil for the victims of the Tsunami on that night in January earlier this year? Secondly, how can music enhance and punctuate a vigil to sharpen our focus so that we ‘remain here and stay awake’ in the presence of Christ?

Firstly, let’s look at some possibilities as to why we hold Vigil. Apart from the biblical and patristic evidence which has produced a beautiful and enduring tradition of prayer which is lovely to uphold – are there other reasons? Is there a ministerial function to the action of Vigils which speaks to us at some deep and profound level propelling us into this age old format of prayer?

In his book ‘Visions of Liturgy and Music for a New Century’, Lucien Deiss says this of ministerial function:

‘To define the ministerial function of liturgy in regard to the liturgy itself…is to define it according to a single reality: a singing People of God celebrating Jesus Christ’

With this in mind, can we say that there is a ministerial function to Vigils? Does this ministerial function give us cause to gather in this manner? We are certainly celebrating the presence of Christ in our midst when we come together – in the case of Vigils – there is no distinction. In the context of a Vigil, we are praying, singing psalms and hymns to God in a way that can only be seen as celebratory. Our moments of silence in such instances are cause for delight and celebration in God also. And while there is an eschatological element to ‘keep awake’ - as most clearly seen in the recent Sunday Gospel of the Ten Bridesmaids [Matthew 25: 1-13] – it does not seem to over ride what Deiss is alluding to as an active celebrating of Jesus Christ.

The idea of dispelling darkness with light as a symbolic reference to the presence of Christ is known to us through such liturgical actions as the Lucernarium as part of Vespers [Evening Prayer]. The act of Vigil then becomes an extension of this acknowledgement of light in our lives.

Certainly, the 2005 Tsunami in Indonesia was a ‘dark’ moment for many of us. It is interesting to observe that in this ‘darkness’ we elected to gather in the night [the darkness] to keep the flame of prayer, light and hope burning. There is a liturgical richness here of drawing upon the overt symbolism of night to correspond with the ‘darkness’ of our lived reality. In this instance, one is reminded of John’s Prologue and that darkness can never prevail [John 1: 5].

Even though the circumstance of us gathering was born out of despair [the Tsunami] – this in itself mirrors much of the accusatory tones and sentiment found in the Psalms and the Book of Lamentations. In these times of destruction and hopelessness, one can easily become angry and bewildered with God. But this is simply a human response – and a response that has permeated throughout the ages – even back to the time when the Psalms were composed.

But, like the communities of the Hebrew Scriptures as seen in the Psalms – there remains a covenantal-knowing that God is with us even when there seems to be a glaring absence of God’s presence! [see Psalm 22]. In the aguish of despair…we still have the faith to call out to God in prayer i.e.: ‘My God, my God, why have you abandoned me?’ and address our cry to our Creator knowing we will find light where there is darkness. Our cry is the cry of Jesus himself. Our song is the song of Jesus.

It is here where we enter into a far deeper understanding of what celebration can mean for us. We become aligned and with Jesus in a poignant way. In his presence – we can rejoice, even if our circumstance for us getting to that place may be otherwise. We don’t aim to actively pursue and celebrate suffering…but we can say that in suffering we find ourselves hanging on the cross with Jesus. And through this we see the resurrection and the cause of our hope…and celebration.

Returning to the earlier question: how can music enhance and punctuate a vigil?

The experience of the ‘Tsunami Vigil’ at my parish once again showed me the galvanizing power of sung prayer. We begun the Vigil with a lighting of a candle – a Lucernarium - which acknowledged the presence of Christ as our light and peace. Accompanying this action we sang a simple little round which I had composed [which was then subsequently used for Evening Prayer during Lent].

It was easy for people to pick up and people sang with enthusiasm. After some general intercessions, a hymn was sung. We sang ‘Prayer for Peace’ by David Haas which people knew very well – and given the earlier round of singing, the gathered assembly really warmed to the occasion with their voices.

People made particular comment after the Vigil – saying the music used at the beginning [as just described] was a very powerful moment of prayer for them. The rest of the Vigil was mainly unstructured. Essentially, there were vast stretches of silence with occasional spontaneous petitions offered.

Similarly, my observation of our parish Holy Thursday night Vigil after the ‘Washing of the Feet Mass’ [!] is a silent and observant watch. Can there be scope at this particular Vigil and other Vigils [such as our ‘Tsunami Vigil’]…where music is employed in a more structured way that perhaps gives greater meaning and symbolism to the passing of the hours that we keep watch? Would it be appropriate to sing a hymn or a psalm on the hour and every hour of the Vigil? Would this not give the participants greater focus and enhance and aid their prayer?

But what to sing?

There is evidence to suggest that John’s Prologue could well have been used in the early Church as a hymn during evening services. The vesperal qualities of the Prologue are clearly evident, but could it have been used in Vigil offices too? What scope is there for it to be used in today’s experience of Vigil? Are there new adaptations which have been written that would benefit assembled communities?

For the purists, Marty Haugen has a setting of the Prologue which is actually sung in the original Greek! [Marty Haugen, That You May Have Life, 2005, G.I.A. Publications]. This is a recent recording and has the refrain sung in Greek i.e.: "En arch¯e ¯en ho logos," (In the beginning was the Word)…with English sung in the verses. It begins in a drone like fashion but then jumps into a lively celebratory style. It would require the music minister to instigate a mini-lesson in the pronunciation of Greek, but if it were explained properly in its historical context, I would imagine it to be a powerful expression of prayer linking us back to the very early tradition of our Church. Try it if you dare!

The popular Taize chant ‘Stay Here’ could be a good and logical choice for sung Vigil prayer. I have seen this used to start the Holy Thursday Night Vigil – but only played on CD through the church PA system. It could be argued that people know that particular piece very well now and it would not take much to have it sung live by a small ensemble or a strong cantor. The live approach also commands a greater sense of the sacred [and the attention of people] – which is the tone and mood that you would be wanting to establish for such an occasion. Too often I have seen a wonderful sense of prayer broken because someone has put on CD music over a PA. For some strange reason, doing so seems to invite and warrant people to burst into loud and disruptive chatter. [!!] The possibilities here are worth investigating further…

Other songs and hymn that aren’t explicitly devoted entirely to ‘keeping watch’ throughout the song – but have snippets or lines scattered throughout the song that speak very directly of Vigil style prayer are worth considering too. Songs such as ‘Blest Be the Lord’ by the St Louis Jesuits with its refrain of:

Blest be the Lord!
Blest be the Lord!
The God of mercy;
The God who saves!
I shall not fear the dark of night
Nor the arrow – that flies by day!

…have potential to be used. Similarly, David Hass’ ‘Increase Our Faith’ has wonderful applications with the refrain saying the following:

Lord, increase our faith
With all our hearts
May we always follow you
Teach us to pray - always

This idea of praying always has particular relevance to participants involved in a Vigil. It is one thing to be involved in a vigil of prayer – but if we are singing about what we are actually and physically doing – this reinforcement can only lead us into a greater sense of prayer.

The use of sung psalmody [or quick antiphons using selected and relevant verses] opens up many options – particularly psalms with reference to light. The light references mirror our own vigil of ‘light’ which is kept through the hours of night. Such Psalms could include:

Psalm 27: 1 ‘The Lord is my light and my salvation, whom shall I fear?’

A recent setting of this psalm can be found on the exceptional collection ‘As Morning Breaks and Evening Sets’ by Tony Alonso, Lori True and Michael Mahler [G.I.A. Publications, 2005]. For an in-depth review of this recording go here.

Another option is Psalm 18:

Psalm 18: 28 ‘Since you are my lamp, O Lord, my God, enlighten my darkness’

Robert Taft, in his excellent book ‘The Liturgy of the Hours in the East and West’ speaks of night time Psalmody used in Southern Gall [circa 589 CE] as reported by St Caesarius of Arles. Psalm 104 is given particular mention and has a powerful sentiment which could very nicely be incorporated into a Vigil setting:

Psalm 104: 19-20 ‘The sun knows its setting, you bring darkness and it is night’

There is room for composers to create settings to these psalms which would speak to our contemporary experience of Church in the modern world. The style(s) presented on ‘As Morning Breaks and Evening Sets’ would be a good starting point to gain some inspiration and ideas. In fact, to my knowledge, I do not know of a recording devoted solely to Vigil hymns and psalmody in a contemporary style. This appears to be uncharted territory that warrants liturgical attention, methinks.

A recent recording I have stumbled across is a very early [if not his first collection] of liturgical music by Marty Haugen called I Send My Light [I Send My Light, 1978, G.I.A. Publications]. There is a song towards the end of the collection called ‘Sing Every Morning’ which would lend itself very well to an all-night Vigil. The song would work well as the participants were approaching sunrise after the watch of night. The lyrics of the song are most fitting:

Sing every morning!
Sing all night long!
Give of yourselves now;
Bring the Lord your song!

If we are to, [as the song suggests] ‘bring the Lord our song’ – then in the context of a Vigil – this seems a most fitting thing to do. The ministerial function of the Vigil can only be augmented with the addition of sung prayer which will allow us to enter into a richer experience of celebration.

Haunted by Gelineau: Local Music for Local Church

My Masters supervisor once had the fortune of taking a class with the great Psalm composer Joseph Gelineau [pictured] in Paris in the late 1970s.

My supervisor told me of an occasion where he commented to Gelineau that while his early *career* had produced many settings of the psalms used by Catholics across the world – there seemed to be [at that time] a cessation of compositional activity.

Gelineau then responded something to the effect of:

‘But I have been composing all this time…I have been composing material for my local church.’

Gelineau’s influence on my supervisor has clearly run deep and this idea of ‘local music for local church’ is a phrase my supervisor likes to use a lot…and it makes good sense to me to not only voice it – but to act upon it.

And for the last number of years I have acted upon this notion. I have been responsible for writing liturgical music for my immediate local parish by way of writing a complete Mass setting, composing theme songs for parish retreats…and also Psalms that have been sung at Mass as the Responsorial Psalm and also for Evening Prayer. The music that I have written originally for my immediate parish community – has now even spread to other parishes and also to various Catholic schools. While there is a certain sense of pride and excitement in my written works being used by others and in different places – it is pleasing also on another level that this adheres to the catch-cry of ‘local music for local church’.

That there is a healthy home grown organic flavour to liturgical music being used for celebration – I think – can only been seen as a good thing…and as such, should be encouraged.

However, I have often felt alone in this area of liturgical composition.

When I first started giving serious attention to liturgical music composition [circa 2000], I sent some of my works to a local liturgical music publishing company here in Australia. After a number of weeks, I received a reply that was encouraging – but also frustrating.

The response applauded my efforts in the realm of liturgical composition and even said that the work was good. They suggested that I would benefit further if I were to work and collaborate with other liturgical composers to benefit my own gifts…and to stay in touch with them.

This was encouraging – but also frustrating – because at that time – I was the only other person I knew who was actively writing liturgical music with the same degree of gusto and passion. I knew of no other Catholic musician who was as obsessive about purchasing the latest offering by David Haas or Marty Haugen…listening to it…absorbing it….and then being influenced and inspired enough by it to then compose my own works.

There were people I knew who were involved in liturgical music – but not active composers. And while I felt stifled by this and not able to take up the advice of the Publishing company to ‘work with other composers’…I did not let it stop me from continuing.

Through this period of apparent ‘local liturgical isolation’ – I found myself asking the question ‘Why aren’t there more people like myself who are interested enough in using their gifts of music to compose for liturgy’?? I knew at that stage of only two other people in my home city of Adelaide who composed liturgical music – and both were a lot older that I was….like 30 years older than me. [!!!]

It has only been in the last 12 months that I have seen evidence of (and met) other [younger] Catholic composers who are writing liturgical music – for liturgy…and who live in around my home town of Adelaide. While this is heartening – the numbers are few.

Why the absence? Why the lack of young liturgical composers? Why is there not more ‘local music for local Church’ happening?

Some would argue that the 1991 Australian Liturgical Music Convention held in Melbourne has a lot to answer for in regards to this absence of ‘local music for local Church’. I have mixed feelings about it.

I did not go to the above mentioned event – but have since heard from different people who did go that it was a phenomenal gathering of talent from across the globe. Everyone who was anyone was there…Marty Haugen, David Haas, Michael Joncas, John Bell from Iona etc etc. Local talent was also there…and there were opportunities for participants to host their own workshops to present ideas on Liturgy and liturgical music.

But from people I have spoken to who went – the bulk of attention was directed towards the overseas US artists such as Haas, Haugen etc. They essentially ‘stole the show’ – so to speak.

As did their music.

And in doing so, [according to some] stifled and crushed local music in a major way.

Curiously, at the approximately the same time of this liturgical music expo extravaganza, a new hymnal was introduced to Australian shores – Gather Australia.

Curiously…but perhaps also timely [?], the bulk of the music found in Gather was much of the US/ GIA music that went down so well at the ’91 Melbourne gathering. Is it by some strange coincidence that the two events occurred approximately at the same time? Or was it a planned and calculated operation by GIA to break into [and some would argue – to dominate] the Catholic liturgical music landscape in Australia – for optimum financial gain?

A positive spin-off to a well timed venture for GIA? Or – a vulgar display of cultural imperialism?

The question I have is: to what extent has the prevalence of GIA liturgical music across Australia stifled ‘local music for local Church’? Have we become complacent in the way we use and select liturgical music – and simply defer to the Gather Hymnal [and other similar hymnals]? Has this easy reliance quelled our own desire to compose our own music for our local churches? Has the seeming over-abundance of US based GIA/ OCP composers and the ‘safety’ in using what appears in a hymnal put us off from investing and supporting – and advocating – local liturgical composers?

On a personal note, it is interesting for me to look at these kinds of questions – because I have benefited greatly from many of the artists on the GIA roster. They have given me great optimism and inspired me to define my own compositional style and ultimately, allowed me to create music that I have given back to my local celebrating community.

And this action of singing liturgical music as common prayer with a flavour that is unique and particular to the local setting [be that parish, school etc] is a great way to enhance and augment the power of celebrated liturgy.

More of it needs to happen…but how do you light and create a fire in such an apparent void of liturgical musical creativity? Do you have locally run seminars on liturgical music – run by local liturgists and theologians? Do you host liturgical music concerts to highlight the power and wonder of sung prayer? Do you invest in local and aspiring liturgical composers to give them a voice and standing within the local Church? Do you create new and dynamic publishing companies who will produce printed sheet music and recordings of local artists that will enhance people’s appreciation for liturgical music? Do you employ liturgically savvy and musically competent teachers in our Catholic schools to inspire the next generation of Catholics so they can in turn become ‘agents of change’ for liturgical music?

I think you could answer ‘yes’ to all of these questions. These are the questions that must be asked…but more importantly enacted upon if we are to realise Gelineau’s vision of ‘local music for local Church’.