Update: My choir attempted this hymn
at yesterday’s Mass for the first time.
Gorgeous harmonies enter at marker 0:28.
UMAN BEINGS are captivated by irony. I remember learning about a sedevacantist group in Kansas during the 1990s. They claimed Pope Pius XII was the last ‘true’ pope and considered him the paragon of liturgical propriety. They especially loved how he was crowned with the papal TIARA. If they’d only known the truth! From a liturgical standpoint, Pope Pius XII was insanely progressive. He eliminated the midnight fast, permitted evening Masses, allowed the laity to chant the readings at Mass (during Holy Week), allowed the congregation to recite the Pater Noster and Proprium Missae (!) along with the priest, and—believe it or not—attempted to replace the ancient Psalter, which would have necessitated changing every liturgical book in existence.1 One of the cruelest things Pope Pius XII did was to suppress the ancient tradition of TENEBRAE, although the major Roman churches ignored this. In a moment, I’ll explain why I bring this up.
Lenten Hymn • Yesterday, I attempted to record all the vocal parts for a famous Lenten Hymn called “My Song Is Love Unknown.” It appears as #65 in the LONDON ORATORY HYMN BOOK. In the Saint Jean de Brébeuf Hymnal, it is #689. By switching the text, Dr. Theodore Marier used that melody numerous times in his hymnal. (He seems to have been deeply attached to it.)
I’m a baritone, but I did my best to sing the female voices:
Acceptable Criticism • With the benefit of hindsight, it’s okay to criticize certain things Pope Pius XII did, even though he was one of the most intelligent men who ever lived. But this should only be done by people who genuinely know what they’re talking about. It should not be done by people only capable of parroting what others say. Nor should it be done by those whose only goal is to attack the church. Readers have probably noticed that certain ‘professional Catholics’ desire only one thing: clicks. These authors are usually “terminally online,” and nothing makes them happier than a juicy scandal. As my mother would say: “Any old stick will do to beat the Church.” If a new report comes out indicating Catholics are abandoning their faith, such authors become positively gleeful. Let’s leave such people to one side.
Unintended Consequences • Even Pope Saint Pius X—as holy and great as he was—made mistakes. In 1903, he issued a famous MOTU PROPRIO called “Inter Pastoralis Officii Sollicitudines,” reforming sacred music. Many of his reforms were excellent. On the other hand, sometimes his legislation was interpreted as banning everything except plainsong. That meant that certain beautiful traditions were abandoned. For instance, many parishes sang Sunday Vespers in figured music. Owing to the new legislation of Pope Pius X, many parishes discontinued such things. In the days before the internet, when so many were poor and uneducated, it wasn’t always possible to implement plainsong, especially since many of the instructional booklets were printed in Latin. Moreover, learning how to sing Gregorian Chant from a book can be difficult.
Even more damaging was the reform of Holy Week under Pope Pius XII, which—by moving the ceremonies to untraditional times—effectively eliminated beautiful parish traditions the faithful profited from, such as The Seven Last Words Of Christ and the Stations of the Cross. If memory serves, Pope Pius XII annihilated Easter Sunday Matins and severely truncated Easter Sunday Lauds. But if any day of the year should have Matins, surely Easter Sunday ought to!
Gregorian Rhythm • Ever since 1984’s Quattuor Abhinc Annos, many Catholic communities follow the liturgical books of 1962—but there’s something I’ll never understand. On the one hand, musicians who prepare ceremonies according to 1962 will spend hours arguing about rubrical minutiae, citing Monsignor Pio Martinucci, Father Louis Stercky, Father Adrian Fortescue, Father John O’Connell, Father Innocent Wapelhorst, and so forth. On the other hand, these same people couldn’t care less about 1962 legislation vis-à-vis the rhythm of Gregorian Chant. When Pope Pius X promulgated the EDITIO VATICANA, he was specific and explicit about what rhythmic system was to be followed. That legislation was upheld and reinforced as late as 1958. I know of one musician who works in a “formerly Ecclesia Dei community” who devised his own system of rhythm—which no scholar in the galaxy agrees with. I’d like to know about why such folks are so conscientious regarding every rubric, yet downright sloppy when it comes to the important matter of the official edition’s rhythm, which effects every phrase of every piece.
Conclusion • The hymn above (“My Song Is Love Unknown”) isn’t directly from the liturgy. Some might say it’s a bit sentimental. On the other hand, I feel there’s a place for such para-liturgical items in any healthy parish. What do you think?
1 The Pius XII Psalter—a.k.a. the “Bea Psalter”—was eventually abandoned. Various authorities disagree as to whether it was ever mandatory. (I’ve seen ‘hard’ evidence supporting both sides of that argument.) Regarding TENEBRAE, I’m using shorthand when I say Pius XII “suppressed” it. In other words, it could still technically be sung if the faithful got up extremely early in the morning. But the traditional place (for centuries) was each evening during Holy Week, since the liturgical action took place in the morning. I won’t insult the reader’s intelligence by explaining the effect of moving TENEBRAE to the crack of dawn… It’s rather like what happens when a priest says: “You can have a TLM, but it will take place 3:00pm on Sunday afternoon.” And then they act shocked when attendance is sparse. In the 1960s, people experimented with something called the “Beatles Mass.” It was basically the Mass accompanied by Rock’n Roll instead of sacred music. It would have been wise for priests in those days to place the Beatles Mass at 5:00am on Sunday morning—with the predictable impact on attendance. Such tricks are called “virtual suppression.”
