About this blogger:
Renowned as composer, conductor, theorist, author, pedagogue, and organist, Aurelio Porfiri has served the Church on multiple continents at the highest levels. Born and raised in Italy, he currently serves as Director of Choral Activities and Composer in Residence for Santa Rosa de Lima School (Macao, China).
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"Since such is the nature of man that he cannot easily without external means be raised to meditation on divine things, on that account holy Mother Church has instituted certain rites, namely that certain things be pronounced in a subdued tone (canon and words of consecration) and others in a louder tone; she has likewise made use of ceremonies such as mystical blessings, lights, incense, vestments, and many other things of this kind in accordance with apostolic teaching and tradition, whereby both the majesty of so great a sacrifice might be commended, and the minds of the faithful excited by these visible signs of religion and piety to the contemplation of the most sublime matters which are hidden in this sacrifice."
— Council of Trent (Session XXII)

Music That Hurts
published 29 April 2015 by Aurelio Porfiri

854 Aurelio Porfiri ARTICLE MUSIC N RECENT YEARS, we have spoken—or bad mouthed—a lot of liturgical music. 1 In doing so, we have often cited documents everywhere to support opposing or irreconcilable theses. Less often, perhaps, have we spoken of liturgical music with regard to its aesthetic value; meaning morality of perception in beauty.

Liturgical music is called to represent the unrepresentable—the HOLY OF HOLIES, the MYSTERIUM—namely, God Who has chosen to become human flesh in order to get closer to men. This choice did not intend just a “lowering” of divinity to human level as such, but an “elevation” of the human to the divine. It was not simplification but exaltation. That’s why the effort of those who make music for the liturgy is an effort to go beyond, not to achieve. We need a liturgical music that hurts, that is able to make blood come out from the vein of the Word because it is IN-VITING. To “invite” is an interesting verb with numerous meanings, ranging from wanting to forcing. Trying to force the etymology of the word “invite,” we would say that the Word must become even more alive (the Latin “vita” means life) and vital to the roar of this blood from the aesthetic wound that music has caused.

That’s why liturgical music is THE OTHER, not the music of everyday life; because, as Pope Francis teaches, 2 we must search for a “syntony,” not an identity. It is very important to reflect on this difference in similarity: as in music harmony, C, E and G form a consonant chord, but are not identical. Liturgical music is in the limen, the threshold which leads into the other dimension and is a key that opens the door to what’s beyond, forcing us (and thus it hurts) to meet with the UNAPPROACHABLE that was not afraid to approach us.

(Ps 69: 9) “For zeal for your house consumes me, and the insults of those who insult you fall on me.”

The zeal for the house of God is a kind of devouring that makes us bleed, exposing us to the opposition of a world seeking the “Other” in others (having more and more); in the excess and not the access. Here is found the noble—the highest role of liturgical music—too often mortified in stupid formulas to please weary souls and protect them from the desire of a death that alone can give true life.

More articles by Aurelio Porfiri can be found on The Castaway.


1   Or “sacred music”; “church music”; “ritual music”; “music for worship”; whatever pleases you.

2   Cf. Anniversary of the First Mass in the Vernacular (7 March 2015).