Notes from the Music Guy XIV

A little over a year ago, I lost virtually all the hearing in my left ear, after an ear infection. The hearing loss was followed by extreme bouts of vertigo. I was off work for over a month, and it took me closer to two months to be able to return to my ministry as organist for the gospel choir at St. Elizabeth's.

Take up your cross, the Savior said,
if you would my disciple be;

As I went from doctor to doctor hoping for a different prognosis, I wondered, "Why me?" In addition to my music career, I was trying to get a fledgling recording studio off the ground: it's very hard to mix recordings when you can't hear in stereo. It seemed so unfair. I really NEEDED both ears. Why not an eye instead? I bet I'd look cool with a patch.

Take up your cross with willing heart,
and humbly follow after me.

I learned to adjust. I accept the permanency of my condition, though I pray for a miracle. And I realize there are worse fates than being a musician who hears in mono. I rejoice that I am able to serve God here, despite my limitations.

Take up your cross, and follow Christ,
nor think 'til death to lay it down;

In fact, if not a good thing in itself, there's at least a silver lining or two. I take nothing for granted anymore, or at least I try. And it made me sit down and take stock: there are parts of my life that really needed an overhaul - I'm working on those.

For only those who bear the cross
may hope to wear the glorious crown!

So, I'm thinking that this is my cross. I hope I'm right. That crown sounds like a pretty good deal.

And if you say something to me, and I don't respond, I'm not snubbing you, I promise. Try saying it again into my right ear.

May Christ be the song in your heart,

Jay

p.s.: One last reminder - the St. Clement Choir will be accepting new members at Wednesday night rehearsal, 7pm, through February 23rd. Come for music, prayer, worship and fellowship. As always, the more the merrier.

Notes from the Music Guy XIII

"We adore you, O Christ, and we praise you, for by your holy Cross you have redeemed the world."

Though this response is generally reserved for good Friday, it is a cogent reminder of what the entire season of Lent is about. Particularly the second half of Lent. The redemption part is key to retaining our perspective: though we bring Christ's journey to the Cross forward to our time, and walk it with him, we also know how the story ends. The Cross becomes the sign of victory rather than defeat, joy rather than suffering, eternal life rather than death.

Our hymn of the season for Lent is Haugen's "Adoramus Te Christe", which is the Good Friday response in its original Latin. The assembly will sing the refrain, and the choir or cantor will offer verses from other songs in between. Together, we will keep our eyes on Calvary, remembering that, ultimately, our triumph is in the Cross of Jesus.

A reminder: the St. Clement Choir will be accepting new members at Wednesday night rehearsal, 7pm, through February 23rd. Come for music, prayer, worship and fellowship. As always, the more the merrier.

May Christ be the song in your heart,

Jay

Notes from the Music Guy XII

There's nothing quite as lovely as an Irish melody.

Did you know that the melody for "Baptized in Water", though perhaps better known as "Morning Has Broken", is actually taken from an old Irish folk tune named "Bunessan"?

In his popular book "Why Catholics Can't Sing", Thomas Day raised the proposition that the spoken mass took a strong foothold in Ireland, where Catholics had to worship quietly for centuries, in constant fear of discovery and persecution. Singing would be the surest way to a quick and painful end the mass.

So it's a bit ironic that the tunes that are helping us find our collective voices - Columcille, St. Columba, Derry, Bunessan, and Wild Mountain Thyme, were all folk songs brought to this country by the same Irish immigrants who brought their non-singing tradition with them.

In coming weeks, you'll hear more Irish music: Our Lenten Gospel acclamation is set to Wild Mountain Thyme, and one of our Good Friday anthems is set to Derry. And in future months, we'll be using an alleluia written by Irish priest Fr. Liam Lawton, a man with a keen ear for a beautiful melody.

A reminder: the St. Clement Choir will be accepting new members at Wednesday night rehearsal, 7pm, through February 23rd. Come for music, prayer, worship and fellowship. As always, the more the merrier.

May Christ be the song in your heart,

Jay

Notes from the Music Guy XI

Oh, it's choiring time again...

The St. Clement Choir rehearses Wednesday evenings from 7-9pm. Sometimes we meet in the sanctuary, sometimes in the music room in the basement.

Do you like to sing? Can you carry a tune? Then join us! Ability to read music is helpful but NOT required.

We plan to start singing at Mass again on February 20th. During Lent, we'll sing at the scrutiny masses for the RCIA candidates and catechumens. For Holy Week, we'll be there for Palm Sunday, Holy Thursday, and Easter Vigil. Our ministry will continue through Easter Season and the feasts of Pentecost, the Body and Blood of Christ, and the Holy Trinity, rotating through the various mass times. Then we'll break for the summer.

We'll be accepting new members at rehearsal through February 23rd. Come for music, prayer, worship and fellowship. As always, the more the merrier.

May Christ be the song in your heart,

Jay

Notes from the Music Guy X

Of the Father’s love begotten, ere the worlds began to be,
He is Alpha and Omega, He the source, the ending He,
Of the things that are, that have been,
And that future years shall see, evermore and evermore!

This is one of the oldest Christmas songs that we still sing. Its Latin form, "Corde na­tus ex pa­ren­tis", dates to the 5th century. John Mason Neale, England's great translator of the 19th century, gave us the English words we know now.

The melody is a little newer than the Latin text: it's from the 11th century. We used it as our Sanctus (Holy Holy) for Advent, and we'll sing it again in Lent as our Memorial Acclamation and Great Amen.

O that birth forever blessèd, when the virgin, full of grace,
By the Holy Ghost conceiving, bore the Savior of our race;
And the Babe, the world’s Redeemer,
First revealed His sacred face, evermore and evermore!

"Of the Father's Love" stands nearly alone among Christmas songs these days: no creche scene, no winter frost, no yule log, no shepherds or magi. Yet it contains stunning, powerful imagery, that brings home the importance of the coming of our Lord, reinforced all the more by the beautiful, simple chant melody that accompanies it.

O ye heights of heaven adore Him; angel hosts, His praises sing;
Powers, dominions, bow before Him, and extol our God and King!
Let no tongue on earth be silent,
Every voice in concert ring, evermore and evermore!

May Christ be the song in your heart,

Jay

Notes from the Music Guy IX

We haven't had a lot of time to prepare, but: Yes, Virginia, there is a choir. We'll be singing at the "midnight mass", which is actually at 10:30pm on December 24th - prelude will start at 10pm. And we'll sing at the following two Sunday masses, 11am on the 26th, the Feast of the Holy Family, and 9am on January 2nd, the Feast of Epiphany. We'll be singing some old favorites, and some new songs too. We're also hoping to be able to do some caroling to the local senior homes, and perhaps with McRest as well.

I'd like to thank the choir members for their warm welcome and enthusiastic participation, and for helping me learn how to conduct a choir. I'm still struggling with the hand motions a bit, but it's getting better.

This will be a rebuilding year of sorts for the choir, but watch for us again around Holy Week and Easter season. If you'd like to join the choir, please call me at the parish office - there's always room for another voice!

May Christ be the song in your heart,

Jay

Notes from the Music Guy VIII

Different churches use the term "cantor" differently. Sometimes it's a fundamental difference, as in the Lutheran Church, where the cantor was the director of music for the parish. J. S. Bach was the "Cantor of Leipzig", for example - but I don't really picture him standing at the ambo with his arm raised. The Jewish cantor is much more like ours, but cultural differences elevated the cantor of the synagogues into local stardom of sorts - in the first part of the 20th Century, it was common for cantors to hold concerts at Carnegie hall, for example.

Even with modern Catholic worship, the roles are different in different communities. Some parishes have no cantor at all, some have two cantors at each mass. Some have a cantor who leads responsorials and a songleader who leads everything else. And some have a separate post called a psalmist who only proclaims the psalm, along with a cantor and perhaps a songleader as well.

Here, our cantors are stretched pretty thin, so they will serve as psalmist, cantor, and songleader. If you attend a mass where there is no cantor, chances are someone got sick: and our bench isn't deep enough to pull out a replacement at the last minute.

So if you feel called to sing God's praises, and to help the assembly do the same, then you're one of us. And we'd love for you to join the cantors of St. Clement's. We have at least two openings, and the more, the merrier. Please call the parish office and let me know if you'd like to be a cantor.

May Christ be the song in your heart,

Jay

Notes from the Music Guy VII

Kyrie Eleison,
Christe Eleison,
Kyrie Eleison.

There’s a wonderful, subtle difference between the Greek “Kyrie Eleison” and the Latin “Miserere Nobis.” They both translate, roughly, as “Lord have mercy”, but the Greek is a song of praise as well. “Lord, you ARE mercy.” The Roman rite retained this single piece of our Greek heritage in the Mass, because there was no way to convey the same sense with Latin text. Nor is there with English.

So this Advent season, while we must abstain from the Gloria, we can sing the Kyrie in its original Greek, so that we may yet give God the praise that he is due. “Lord, you are mercy.”

May Christ be the song in your heart,

Jay

Notes from the Music Guy VI

And so another church year begins. Last week we announced the inevitable triumphant reign of God, this week we await the arrival of a savior. Similar themes, but far different tones. The Gloria is gone, a Kyrie in its place, and the big brassy hymns of triumph are replaced with pensive songs of expectation.

Our hymns of the month show this contrast: We leave behind the victorious, jubilant "Come Now, Almighty King", and replace it with "God of All People", a quiet prayer that ultimately asks the same thing: "Come, Lord Jesus, Come."

Such quiet prayerfulness can be hard to achieve in the bustling "last shopping days before Christmas", but perhaps the songs of the Advent season can help you find that solitude, that you might hear the still, small voice of God reassure you that he is, indeed, coming.

May Christ be the song in your heart,

Jay

Happy St. Cecilia's Day

In honor of St. Cecilia's Day, our blog photo seems to have gone MIA. Sigh...

Anyhow, actually threw my first St. Cecilia party Saturday, after the mass mentioned in the post below. Choir was great, Mass was great, party was great, though no locals made it: the St. E's crowd was enough to fill my house. Good food, good company - hope we do this again.

Off to find us a new photo!!!

Notes from the Music Guy V

The Feast of Christ the King is not just the last Sunday mass in the church year, it is the culmination of the church year: we celebrate the eternal reign of Christ as King of heaven and earth.

It's really a big deal, though we sometimes lose track of it, with all those other feasts and seasons all over our calendars, and with Thanksgiving coming right behind it.

This year, we thought we'd give the feast its due, so this Saturday the Resurrection and Nova Gospel choirs, from St. Elizabeth's Church on Detroit's near east side, will be singing at our 5:00 mass. They've been working to learn some of our acclamations, and we've been working to learn some of theirs (whether you knew it or not, heh heh). I had the privilege of working with St. Elizabeth's for the past year, and they graciously agreed to bless us with their presence.

By the way, a quick read through the Book of Revelations makes it pretty clear what all of us will be doing when we reach heaven: we'll be singing in the choir. Mass is a great opportunity to get in some practice!

May Christ be the song in your heart,

Jay

Notes from the Music Guy IV

Here’s what we share with every singing Christian community out there: the opportunity for “engaged worship” – worship that draws the believer in and resonates throughout his or her being. That means that “alleluia” doesn’t come just from my voice box, it comes from my heart. Such engagement is elusive, and ultimately a very personal thing, different for each worshiper.

There are a variety of tastes and opinions and moods in the assembly these days, and music can divide as easily as it can cause us to come together. Some churches have taken to offering different masses or services in different styles: I hope WE never come to that. Part of our calling as Christians is to encourage each other in faith – perhaps best accomplished by helping the other guy sing his song. So here at St. Clement’s, I will strive for enough diversity in the mass that, by the time each mass is over, we will have sung something that touches everyone.

May Christ be the song in your heart,

Jay

Notes from the Music Guy III

Last week, I mentioned my Presbyterian upbringing. The most positive aspect of worshiping there was the joyful energetic song from the pews. Those folks knew how to sing hymns, and their love for worship in song was unmistakable.

The Catholic Church, on the other hand, has, in recent history anyhow, only looked to the pews for musical participation for the past 40 years or so. As faith traditions survive by being handed down among families, more than any other way, there’s really no way to graft the Protestant hymn-singing tradition on to the collective Catholic experience. Nor is it necessarily desirable.

What Catholic worship offers us is the opportunity to fully open the Word of Christ, and to tie it to His true Body and Blood, which we experience so profoundly in the Eucharist. By lifting our voices in unison in the Gloria, Eucharistic chants, and hymns, we act as the voice of the Body of Christ. In the dialog of the Psalms, the Alleluia, and the Kyrie, we engage in dialog with The Word itself, and draw not only on our Catholic heritage, but the heritage of our forebears in Faith, the Hebrew people, who first instituted the role of cantor in Temple and Synagogue rites thousands of years ago.

Next week – “What we share with every singing Christian community”

May Christ be the song in your heart,

Jay

Notes from the Music Guy II

As promised, here’s part two of my introduction:

I grew up Presbyterian, and hymn singing was a large part of my family life. Every Sunday night, before we went to bed, the whole family would sing hymns together: Dad had a gorgeous baritone voice, and Mom sang and played piano.

In the Presbyterian Church, there was a tradition of singing whatever the organist threw at us – in four-part harmony. Of course, the old favorites got more participation, but the joy of lifting our voices to the Lord got us all on board. On the other hand, we always read the Psalm – singing it was out of the question.

From time to time, I tried to find a way to use my musical talent as a Presbyterian – in general, it didn’t work out. My pop music background didn’t really lend itself to a foursquare hymn singing tradition. I was thrilled when my wife’s Catholic West Virginia parish invited me to play with their choir: they had just bought the same blue Gather hymnals that we have here now at St. Clement’s – THIS was some music that fit my skill set! And singing the Psalm was just so much better. After all, the Psalms were songs in the first place. They were meant to be sung.

Since West Virginia, I’ve had a number of opportunities to participate in different Catholic music programs. What I’ve found, consistently, is that where the voice of the assembly is cherished, it will thrive. The talent of the music ministers is really pretty far down the list of needs for engaged worship. What is most important? First, “love God” – use songs that connect to and honor the Word of God. Second (and like unto it), “love thy neighbor” – use songs that the assembly knows and appreciates, or that they will WANT to learn, and are within their grasp.

Diversity within the assembly makes the second point a challenge, but it’s a noble one, and worth pursuing. Nobody ever said ministry was easy…

May Christ be the song in your heart,

Jay

Notes from the Music Guy I
(my first parish bulletin article)

Since this is my first article, I should tell you something about myself:

My name is Jay Ricketts, I live in Emmett with my wife Kim. We're both long-time Michiganders - I went to Eisenhower High School - but we've moved around a bit. We have two kids, both grown, and three grandkids, ranging in age from 1 to 4. I've been a musician all my adult life, but except for a few years in the late 70's, it's been a sideline rather than a career. I played in rock, pop, and country bands in and around Detroit, Washington DC, and Winchester VA, as well as a little bit of regional touring. One of my bands even played at the Blue Banjo a few times. I've also done some solo piano - jazz isn't my strong suit, but I can do it in a pinch.

Music became a ministry for me in about 1992, in West Virginia, when I "accompanied" the singer at the blessing of our wedding by recording some MIDI tracks of piano and organ parts. Fr. Brian watched the little MIDI box and flashing lights, and then approached me afterwards about joining the music ministry. I did, and got more and more involved in the church, eventually taking a directorship at St. Cornelius in Dryden in 1997. I learned a lot over the next five years from the great folks there.

I stayed in Dryden until 2002, when I returned to school to work toward a Church Music degree at Madonna University in Livonia. After about a year of that, I had to return to church work for financial reasons, working as the organist for the gospel choirs at St. Elizabeth's in Detroit, and as an accompanist at St. Blase in Sterling Heights and Ss. John & Paul in Washington Twp. I'm continuing my studies at Madonna, but am not taking courses this semester. The degree should come in about two years, if I stick to it.

Fr. Doc called me a few months ago when the parish found itself without a music director, and I accompanied the Saturday masses until he and Fr. Steve offered me the directorship. This looks to be an excellent parish, how could I say no? Thanks to everyone who's been so kind and welcoming to me in my first weeks here. It means more than you can imagine. I'd also like to thank Mary Love, Sarah Schultz, Anne Roszczewski, and Caroline Muylaert, who are all from St. Cornelius, for pitching in and canting at Saturday masses, and especially Chris Swoish, who has agreed to continue accompanying and canting here on a regular basis.

Watch this space! This will be a more or less weekly column, with information and musings about ministry, music, and worship. Next week: part two of the introduction, where I'll talk a bit about worship and ministry. Meanwhile, anyone who's interested in being part of the cantor ministry, please call the parish office and leave me a message. With any luck, I'll have the phone system figured out by then...

May Christ be the song in your heart,

Jay

No, He's Not
An open letter to Sojourners.com

Some background: Sojourners, an organization trying to serve as a voice for (politically) liberal Christianity, has been running a "God is Not a Republican... or a Democrat" campaign, with some success. I signed on, and have been getting their newsletters. Their latest letter quotes a retort from a Mrs. Brough, who insists that she is sure that God is a Republican, because he's pro-life. End of story. Hence my response below:

I'd agree with Ms. Brough that God must be appalled at Mr. Kerry's stance on abortion. I certainly am, and it's enough to cause me to withhold my vote.

But surely God must be equally appalled at the constant lies and deceit from our Republican leaders as they struggle to justify an unjustifiable war in Iraq. And at Mr. Bush's gleeful run as the "hangin' governor" of Texas. And at the Republican party's awful treatment of the poor, especially with regard to world hunger, and access to medical care.

Bush had the gall to announce a "National Sanctity of Life" day last year, as if the question of "life" begins and ends with abortion. It most certainly does not. To believe in its "sanctity", one must believe that it is God's alone to take away, except in the lawful defense of life (Bush's creative attempts to redefine defense a la Vince Lombardi do nothing to change the true offensive nature of his actions in Iraq). Bush and the Republican party have proven time and time again that they believe that it's good to kill "bad people", or send our kids to their deaths in a war with little or no connection to our national security, or accept death and mistreatment of Iraqi non-combatants as necessary collateral damage, or withhold needed medical services from poor people. And the Democrats, long the voice of the vulnerable and voiceless, has completely dropped the ball with regard to these most vulnerable and voiceless humans, the unborn.

Jesus told us there are two great laws: Love God, and love your neighbor. Both parties have fallen far short of the Glory of God, in both respects.

I don't pretend to know the mind of God well enough to say how or if He would vote, but THIS Christian will be waiting for a candidate who believes in the TRUE sanctity of life in all its forms before he casts another vote for president.
In Christ,

Jay Ricketts
Emmett, Michigan, USA

All Things Must Pass, Part II

This past Sunday was my last at St. Elizabeth's. I've accepted the job as Music Director at St. Clement of Rome, in Romeo MI, a northern suburb of Detroit.

The worship space is beautiful, especially the panorama: you get the sense of being surrounded by nature. This may be different when the greenery is gone, of course.

Nice small 2-manual Casavant - 14 stops? - and a Kawai grand, which sounds a little jangly, but still nice. Worship II and Gather I in the pews.

The workload is light, the pay is good, the politics may be treacherous: time will tell. I have a sub, which always makes things better. And Romeo is only a 20-mile drive, compared to 40 for Sterling Heights and 50 for Detroit. No choir at first, but there is a dormant cantor program which I'm expected to resurrect.

I haven't severed ties with the other churches, but will continue at St. Elizabeth's on a volunteer when-I-can-make-it basis, and at St. Blase as a scheduled accompanist through December only.

And, I'll need to rename the blog again, as I am no longer "Once and Future", as of October 1. I can't remember what I used to call it. Maybe this time we'll go with "Confessions of a One-Eared Music Director". Whaddya think?

Hello? *thump* Is this thing on?

So, Last Summer...

...I swore I wouldn't take any more summer classes - just can't concentrate, need time off, bla bla blah. But then summer rolled around, and I got overconfident. So here's the report card:

Chorale: A
Organ: C+

IOW, it happened again. Some people just refuse to learn from history. :(

New Life for St. Josaphat's

Maida's decision to allow it at St. Josaphat seems in keeping with the spirit of Vatican rules, Reese (of America magazine) said. But, "It would be counterproductive if too many people turn this into a marketing strategy to fill churches. The idea behind allowing this mass was that it could help older people in the later stages of their lives. The hope is that this mass eventually will fade away."

I really don't think that's the point, and I think Reese knows that all too well. I'm guessing a lot of the massgoers will be Gen-X'ers. Read the article.

The museum approach At St. J's is interesting, because it's always been my contention that falling back to the Tridentine mass belies a museum approach to liturgy. I know there are those who disagree passionately. Maybe I'll hear from one or two of ya...

The Long Awaited Review

Okay, I promised a review, here it is...

I'd like to say that this book changed my life. That's not exactly true, but it's changed my paradigm. Which, I believe, will ultimately change my life.

"This book" is Randall Sullivan's The Miracle Detective. Sullivan started his journey as a jaded but curious Rolling Stone reporter investigating a Mary sighting in a trailer in Oregon. When none of the claims were neatly explained away by his preconceived biases against such things, or by the Catholic hierarchy that (sadly) downplays these things as embarrassing signs of superstition, he dug further.

His digging ultimately took him to Medugorje, and Rome. And Scottsdale, Arizona. And elsewhere. What he encountered forced him to cast off his world view... and me, mine. He tried to reconcile his old lifestyle with his new outlook - it didn't work very well. But for 10 years or so, he followed the story of Mary wherever it would take him, and we're left with a sometimes breathtaking encounter of his meetings with the Medugorje visionaries, their American equivalents, Vatican officals, and, finally, Fr. Bernard Groeschel himself.

Sadly, it seems everyone, except maybe the visionaries themselves, has some kind of agenda to go with this. So ubertraditionalists are disparaging of the Medugorje statements urging us to love our Muslim brethren. Liberals are dismayed by the lack of attention that social justice gets in Mary's messages. And, it seems, Vatican apologists are scared to death that they'll officially embrace a Marian vision now, only to be debunked 50 years later as science turns another corner. The lesson of Galileo Galilei burns bright in their collective memory.

Sullivan's writing is occasionally problematic, and consistently inconsistent. I think the inconsistency can be forgiven - the whole point of the book seemed to be about his own metamorphosizing from sophist world traveler to engaged pilgrim. That he speaks sometimes with one voice, sometimes with the other makes a certain sense.

The problematic part of his writing is that there are some asides that either need to be expanded or dropped. In particular, an unchallenged slam on the Masons, their "secret" levels, and the sex rites practiced there. Sheesh, either follow it up or leave it out. But as I was reading a pre-release proof, it's possible the editor will insist on the same.

The language in this is occasionally coarse, as one might expect from a sometimes frank and objective report that includes encounters with the demon-possessed, with disbelievers, and with anti-believers. So don't give this to your 6th grader to read. But YOU oughtta read it. So should your friends.

I recommend it. Highly.