Editor’s note: This article originally appeared in the Jan. 23, 1982 edition of America.
Numberless things liturgical have changed for the better since Vatican II. Should you have any doubt of the progress, plan a Tridentine Mass in your parish next Sunday. Turn the altar about and scout a copy of the Leonine prayers.
However, one cannot escape the dread feeling that the reforms have not made the grade. Did something go awry? Twenty years ago, and more, we had such great hope. Everything was going to be bright and new and shining. Every parish would feel the warmth of the newly risen sun and rejoice and be glad, praising and glorifying the Lord. We had great hopes in those days for congregational participation that would fill our churches with gorgeous sound.
It does not seem that the promise has been completely fulfilled. Fatigue has settled over us. We do not succeed past a certain point. Some people have become frantic and are still carrying out bizarre experiments—called liturgical—to awaken interest.
Religious art is at an all-time low. The only interest in this area seems to lie in producing banners proclaiming peace and happiness. However, when we listen to and watch the celebration of the Eucharist, the mood we derive is gray and somber and lifeless. The banners shout “Joy,” but the healthy man does not talk about health. We refer to grace as the seed of glory and can find only a cheerless and dismal atmosphere in most of our churches. There is a sameness and repetition and, inevitably, a lack of interest in the celebration of Sunday Mass.
There is one area in our liturgy that has been sadly neglected. I speak of the music involved in the liturgy. Music will save the situation. Surely that is a strong statement, but it cannot be disproven empirically, because good liturgical music has never been given a chance in the United States.
What we hear at Mass certainly reflects a discouraged and confused church.
Art reflects life. Liturgical music reflects…