Moving Rite Along

I got an iPod for Christmas last year. It’s one of the best presents that I have ever received. I take it everywhere I go and I listen to it in my office, in my car, and at home. I’ve spent the past few months loading it up with all of my favorite tunes, and I’ve spent so much money at the iTunes store that I really should consider buying stock in the company! I’ve heard that you can tell a lot about a person by the music that is on their iPod. I guess what you could tell about me is that my taste is eclectic because it’s all there: classical, rock, jazz, blues, country, and liturgical, of course. One of my recent purchases was Queen’s Greatest Hits, which includes “We Are the Champions,” “Bohemian Rhapsody,” and “We Will Rock You.” Then there’s another one of their big hits, “Another One Bites the Dust.” It reminds me of a lot of my friends in music ministry: “And another’s gone and another one’s gone, another one bites the dust.”

When a friend of mine called a few weeks ago to say that he had submitted his resignation after serving as director of music at a large suburban parish for eight years, I must say I wasn’t surprised. He had endured years of difficulty: a pastor who refused to communicate, liturgy that was haphazard, and surprises lurking around every corner. The liturgy committee met once or twice a year. The pastor chaired the committee. Meetings never lasted more than a half hour or so because the pastor always had to dash off to another meeting, the funeral home, or a wedding rehearsal. There was always an excuse. Despite years of promises that things would change, they never did. It speaks volumes that the pastor took more than a week to even acknowledge receiving my friend’s letter of resignation. So this talented and dedicated pastoral musician is leaving. Another one bites the dust. But he isn’t leaving to take a position in another parish that would appreciate his abilities. No, he’s just leaving and glad to be doing so. He says he wants his life back.

Sadly, this is not an uncommon story. I’ve heard it over and over and over. How did this all happen? I think it started way back in 1976. Father Virgil Funk, a priest of the Diocese of Richmond, recognized the need for church musicians to be better trained and educated. He realized that following the Second Vatican Council there was much turmoil and confusion among musicians. The times, they were a changin’, and it was clear that someone needed to step in and provide guidance and leadership. Virgil Funk was the man. While he wasn’t a musician himself, he had a deep interest in liturgical music and recognized the power that music could have in bringing parish communities together. After doing much research and against the advice of many, Father Funk formed the National Association of Pastoral Musicians. NPM changed the face of musicians and music in Catholic churches, for better or worse.

Father Funk’s vision of NPM was multifaceted. He recognized that church musicians needed instruction in a number of areas. He envisioned musicians that were skilled in their art, whether it was singing or playing an organ, piano, or guitar. He envisioned musicians who were capable and comfortable communicating with clergy and their congregations. He envisioned musicians who were capable of liturgical planning and preparation, not only on a weekly basis but seasonally as well. He envisioned musicians who were people of faith and spirituality. And in addition to all of these dreams, he envisioned a church in which the musicians that had been trained, formed, and nurtured could earn a fair, just, and living wage. So 30-some-odd years ago, he and a few pioneers set out to achieve his goal.

I have fond memories of NPM. In the ’70s and ’80s NPM was a vibrant and alive organization that challenged, educated, and encouraged musicians to be the absolute best that they could be. I recall that their motto or slogan was something about a circle of friends, and NPM certainly gave “circle of friends” a whole new meaning! Every convention was a gathering of irrepressible musicians who took over hotels and stayed up until the wee hours singing, laughing, and telling the most unbelievable true church stories. Most importantly, we supported each other and made friendships, many of which would last a lifetime.

A lot has changed since those early years of NPM. It has grown and evolved. There are special sections of NPM for cantors, pianists, campus ministers, youth, and a separate division for full-time musicians.

Twenty-five or 30 years ago, many church musicians accepted NPM’s challenge. They were a bunch of cockeyed optimists who were willing to work, study, and strive for excellence in what they knew was their vocation. Today those people are older and wiser. I fear that some of them are tired, discouraged, and disappointed. They’ve been overworked and underpaid, but far worse than that, they have been taken advantage of and taken for granted. They spent precious time studying. Many had families and full-time jobs. They sandwiched in their studies whenever they could. Their families often took a back seat to their commitment to excellence in ministry. But it was okay, because they had a dream: a dream of moving people closer to God in a way that only they could do, through the ministry of their music. It was okay if they left their families early on Christmas Eve and didn’t show up until the middle of Christmas Day, exhausted and irritable. It was okay if they couldn’t visit friends and family out of town on any holiday because their ministry came first. It was okay if their personal lives were less important than their church work. It was okay because there was a dream involved. For some, that dream became a nightmare.

I’m worried. I’ve been worried for quite some time now. I’m worried about the next generation of pastoral musicians. I’m not sure if anyone in the church hierarchy has taken stock of where good church musicians come from or, perhaps more importantly, where they are going. I have a pretty good idea. Good church musicians are the product of years of training, formation, instruction, education, and most importantly experience — experience not only in music but in liturgy as well. Sadly, many are leaving because they have been treated with disrespect and/or disregard. In some parishes, musicians merely serve a function. It doesn’t matter if they can play, sing or direct; it doesn’t matter if they can plan, prepare, or execute. Showing up is good enough.

I suspect that some in music ministry have been cast aside and treated poorly because of their competence, not a lack thereof. The very ministers who were encouraged to achieve a greater level of competence have become a threat to those in power. It’s about time that all in the church, in the pews and in the pulpit, realize that we are about the same thing. It’s not about who’s smarter or more talented. It’s not about who’s in charge or who has the authority. It’s not about who is ordained and who isn’t. Through our baptism, we are all disciples of Christ. There’s no room for competition and there’s no room for jealousy. There’s no room for envy or pettiness. We are all called to witness and live the gospel message.

I pray daily for all those who minister in the church, especially ministers of music. I pray that they not become discouraged or lose heart. I pray that they are treated with the respect and dignity that they deserve. I pray that they continue to serve the church faithfully. I pray that they continue to encourage, foster, and train young musicians to serve in the years to come. Perhaps most importantly, I pray that the dream that has been given to all is kept alive. I pray that we all have the strength, the hope, the courage, and the conviction to pass on that dream. Perhaps Monsignor James P. Moroney said it best during a recent address to the FDLC:

Love that dream and love your fellow dreamers: whether they sing it in hymns or polyphonic forms, whether they prefer to kneel or to stand, whether they prefer Latin or English, whether they prefer to look East or West. Love your fellow dreamers, as you love the dream. For, at the end of the world, when we stand before the first singer of the Paschal hymn, what will matter most will not be our personal preferences, but our full and actual participation with heart and soul and body and mind in the Holy and Living Sacrifice of Praise! (USCCB Newsletter 43 [Oct.–Nov. 2007]). ML

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