He Put A New Song In My Mouth

This was the second week of having to sing "Here I Am, Lord" at Mass. This wouldn't trouble me so much aside from the fact that last week, for some reason totally unbeknownst to me, we  got a new Holy, Holy, Holy, a new Lamb of God and a new Great Amen. All with a tune that sounds like something from a Disney movie new arrangement.

I highly, HIGHLY dislike these new arrangements. We also got the new Gloria. No, not that new Gloria, a NEW new Gloria, with a new arrangement as well. I like the Gloria Simplex because it fits the new translation of the Mass. It sounds sort of like a chant and the simplicity of it works better than the cramming of the new words into the tune we were singing to before, so you can focus on what you're saying and not the odd phrasing with the arrangement. (Aside: When I was a kid, even at The Other Catholic Church in town, the Holy, Holy, Holy and Lamb of God were sort of chanted and I find myself longing for these older arrangements. My big beef with the Holy Holy Holy that we were doing before the new translation and are now doing again is phrasing. What is the need to repeat the "your glory" and "who comes"? Why can't we just put it into a normal phrasing? If you are repeating things in order to make them fit the melody, methinks you ought to re-write your melody, especially if your lyrics are coming from Scripture.) These new arrangements of these very important liturgical songs do NOT fit the elevated status of the new mass. They sort of jar me out of where I am. When the pianist started playing the tune for the Lamb of God, I actually got confused. I actually thought to myself  "why are they playing a song, we're not supposed to be playing a song here," and, based on how long it took people to catch on, I wasn't the only one. Here's my question: what's wrong with the Agnus Dei? I'm not saying that to be flippant, I am totally serious. Why can't we just sing the Sanctus and the Agnus Dei? Why all this kumbaya hand holdy stuff now, NOW that we have finally gotten rid of the kumbaya hand holdy translation?!

In any event, when I looked at these songs in our hymnal, I realized that they were all arranged by the same composer. I will not name him, mainly because the thread on his music on the Catholic Answers Forums was closed because people were being uncharitable. Now, I won't say anything about him personally (because I didn't even Wikipedia him to find out anything about him personally), I just don't like his "hymns." One because they are trite and contrived lyrically, two because they all sound like something from a Disney movie the same. But the last two weeks, with the exception of the Gloria Simplex and our recessional hymn this week ("How Can I Keep From Singing" which is a Protestant hymn, by the way), ALL of the songs we sang in mass were written by this good gentleman. It was like a This Dude love fest and not a Catholic mass at all.

Catholicism. You're Doing it Wrong. 

What does one do about something like this? I finally left The Other Catholic Church after putting my foot down over a horrendous rendition of Alleluia in which we clapped. Yes, you read that right. I am not a RadTrad, I'm really only a regular trad and this stuff really, really, REALLY bothers me. Can I ask my Pastor to put a moratorium on all the David Haas, Marty Haugen, Dan Schutte stuff? Can I respectfully request that we have a Catholic mass for the reals, or have the pew-sitting Catholics gotten so into their "let's sing the Our Father, use the orans posture, and clap through the Alleluia" mentality that people would actually be upset at the Catholicization of the mass? I know my personal preference should not dictate things and I know there are people out there who are very emotionally attached to these songs, but some of us are emotionally attached to the MASS as it should be and would like to at LEAST hear the liturgical prayers sung respectfully. I would trade one awful hymn a week for two good ones. Heck, at this point, I would trade two David Haas debacles for one Panis Angelicus. With so many beautiful, relevant, traditional Catholic hymns, do we really need to subject parishioners to this stuff?

Ugh, and now I have "Here I Am, Lord" in my head.

Holy Day of... Eh.

Happy Epiphany Eve everyone!! As you all know, tomorrow is a Holy Day of Obligation, so make sure you all check on Mass times at your local....wait. What? You mean they moved the feast of the Epiphany to a Sunday?

The Feast of the Epiphany celebrates the day that the Magi arrived in Bethlehem and adored the baby Jesus and brought him presents and I think Mary had a little drummer boy show up and I'm pretty sure that it was the reason that men never, ever ask for directions...any more. It's one of oldest Feasts in Christianity- the prefigurement of all Christians on bended knee for our savior. 

With that said, I don't really understand why the Catholic Church in America has demoted this to a Sunday feast. I'm kind of a nerd in the sense that I really enjoy Holy Days of Obligation. I get so excited at the thought of taking time out of my normal life and going to Mass in the middle of the week. It's one of those things that make us Catholic, one of those things that no one else does. I read this book recently (and I apologize because I can't honestly remember who it was by or what it was called) about Vatican II and why it had such a big impact and why that impact isn't the things that everyone talks about-- the RadTrads talking about the change from Latin, for example-- but smaller things that slowly eroded our identity and lead to the really, really bad catechesis of the Baby Boomer generation which lead to the even WORSE (if it's possible) catechesis of our generation until we woke up and re-catechized ourselves. One of the things he talked about was this very thing. We all know we should go to Mass on Sundays, that's a given. And we all know we should go on Christmas and Easter, but it's those in-between feasts that should be shaping our lives. The ebb and flow of the liturgical calendar and the reflection outside of the race of this life. We've effectively been held less accountable for our own spiritual lives. The author of this book argued that we should all go back to the Friday meat abstinence (as the Bishops of the UK did recently) because it was something that all Catholics did, something that set us apart from all the other Christians out there. 

In today's world, when there is so much animosity toward Catholics and so many Christians aren't really all that much different than your average Secular Sally, (*coughunitarianscough*), it would be nice, just once to see the Church stand up for Catholic identity. To remind us that we are in the world, but not of the world. We need things like keeping up our Christmas decorations for the entire Christmas season and then going to Mass on the Epiphany (which is January 6, not "a Sunday between January 2 and January 8"). We need our Theophany water and chalk and whatever other trappings we can get. We need our St. Blaise days and May Crownings and Good Friday Fish Fries. We need to be reminded that that our Church isn't replaceable by going to whichever First United Congregation is closest to us, because the service times fit with soccer practice and the female pastor wears birkenstocks and a Hawaiian shirt and that's neat. Above all, we need to be reminded that we are Catholic and not only is it worth fighting for, it's worth living for, too. 

Modesty: Unveiled

I drafted this post some time ago and posted it finally in order to contribute to a topic prompt by the Bright Maidens. I highly recommend reading them if you have any interest in what it's like to be young, female and Catholic!

Disclaimer #1: I hate the word “modesty.” I feel like it only applies to women and has no real basis in reality with respect to what one can actually find in stores. I am not one to advocate the wearing of floor-length prairie skirts and turtle-necks. Mainly because I really think they are a fashion faux-pas and if that makes me a materialistic secular person, so be it. That being said, I am going to use the word modesty for- literally- lack of a better word. I am using it to mean…basically… um…. Not slutty. I guess? Semantics tick me off.

There has been a bit of buzz lately about modesty in the Church.  There are two forms of modesty rules that women are to follow. One is sometimes referred to the Fatima rule, which was codified by the Cardinal Vicar of Pope Pius XII in 1956. Distilled, the rules are: no shirts cut lower than two finger widths below the hollow of the neck, sleeves to the elbow, skirts below the knee. I’ll add for good measure: head covered in the sanctuary. Many women do not follow this rule, because, come on. Why would you? But some still feel compelled to, and, power to them I guess.

The other one is the more modern rule, which is shoulders covered, thighs covered, cleavage covered. This is the rule that you will run into if you ever go visit any great Cathedral in Europe. At the Vatican, they have these paper towel type things that they hand to women in spaghetti straps to act as makeshift pashminas for all those American tourists in their Miley Cyrus tank tops. Don’t even get me started about Americans dressing like this in Europe in general, regardless of trying to get into a Catholic Church.

I find that modesty is a complicated thing that you can’t ever quite pin down, and it varies based on who you speak to. I look at it akin to the veiling of Muslim women: some Americans (or Westerners) look at it as oppressive, sexist and backwards. Some Muslim women look at it as an equalizer, something that frees them from being judged on their bodies or looks. In the Catholic modesty debate, I tend to fall into the equalizer camp, though it’s not really that cut and dry.

Disclaimer #2: one of my favorite and least Christian pastimes is to look at (and, admittedly judge,) people’s clothing in Church. To be fair, I do it everywhere anyway. I literally balk each week at the things people wear to Mass, and, more importantly, the things people allow their children to wear to Mass. Since I felt compelled to start veiling at Mass, I find this has started to lessen quite a bit, mainly because I know I am in the minority and I am getting stared at as well. I also think the veil helps me to be more pious and remember why I am at Mass in the first place. Added bonus that it still smells like the chrism from my confirmation.

Okay, so here’s a list of things I really, really dislike seeing at mass: teenagers in flash-dance inspired off-the-shoulder sweatshirts with their bra straps showing; flip flops; teenage or young men in basketball shorts or anything that resembles workout clothing; anyone in holy pants/shirts/tennis shoes (just ‘cause they’re holy doesn’t mean you can wear them to church ba-dum-ching!); women in mini skirts; women in leggings with tops that don’t cover their butts; kids in things that resemble Halloween costumes; anything you would conceivably sleep in (i.e. pajama pants, flannel shorts and oversized t-shirts, frequently splashed with the name of some “fun-run” you participated in); and last but not least teenagers in mini skirts, cheerleading hoodies from their high school *and* flip flops (minus 10,000 points if this outfit is being worn in January, February or any month in which the temperature does not regularly soar over 50 degrees). I’m not super concerned with your shoulders being covered (necessarily, I feel like sleeveless tops are modest and fine), or your knees showing, or your hair being exposed.

The Amish. Keepin' it modest since 1693

 “But, Miss Holier-Than Thou Catholic,” you may say “why should we be concerned with modesty in the first place?” Short answer: respect. Respect for you and for the the fact that you are at church. I don’t buy that oft-repeated crap about how women should be modest so that we don’t incite lust in the menfolk at church. That’s a load of BS, if my scoop neck top is lower than 2 finger-widths than the hollow of my neck and you glimpse my sternum and get yourself in a tizzy and think an impure thought and can’t receive communion that’s your problem. Because really, where are we to draw the line? Thanks to pornography people have access to all kinds of pervy things that make them aware of fetishes and the sight of an earlobe or feet could make someone get all hot and bothered, and neither I nor the Vatican is calling for a Catholic burqa. I really, truly feel that modesty is at least 90% in your mind and in your character. We’ve all known women who could cover from head to toe and somehow come across as well… skanky. And we all know women (and I hope I am one of them) that can wear tank tops and shorts above their knee and still look modest. I think most women fall into the modest camp. There are some that think women shouldn’t wear pants to church, which doesn’t make a darn bit of sense to me because pants actually cover things up, and as long as you can’t read the date on a dime in someone’s pocket, I see no reason why a woman can’t wear them. I happen to wear dresses to church (as well as a mantilla, as I mentioned) but that is me, and it’s not required nor would I want anyone to do it if they didn’t feel called to (or at the very least prayed about it beforehand). I also frequently wear skirts and dresses as street clothes and so it’s really just more my style than anything else. I wear lower cut tops because I feel like since I don’t have cleavage, I’m golden. I think the motivation for being modest should come from within, and the closer I get to my faith the more modest I become unconsciously. I hate being told what I can and can’t wear. The owner of my company is LDS (Mormon) and we actually have a “modesty” rule in our dress code, which is almost word-for-word the modesty rule they teach their daughters. Even though I wasn’t ever planning on wearing short shorts and tube tops to work, the fact that that rule is in there ticks me off (again, it doesn’t really apply to the male employees) and makes me want to push the boundaries. I guess that’s a rebellious part of my nature that no amount of incense and Magisterium documents can squelch. That being said, I think the rule to anything should be “appropriateness.” It is appropriate to wear a bikini to the pool or beach, it is not appropriate to wear a bikini to mow the lawn. It is appropriate to dress as if you are attending church, it is not appropriate to attend church dressed as if you are attending a sleepover. See? Modesty issues solved.

Back to the respect thing and modesty outside of Mass, though, I think Blessed John Paul the Great (That title is just so fun!) said something along the lines of (my paraphrase here) “you should dress in a way that incites a man to LOVE you, not to lust after you.” If women really want to be treated as equals in society today, I think we need to give more thought to how we’re dressing and what it says about us. Just as I dislike the whole “dress modestly so as not to lead your brothers-in-Christ to sin” thing, I equally dislike the whole “I’m a woman and I can dress however I want because this isn’t the Middle Ages” thing. Because, really, aren’t they two sides of the same coin? No matter how much you may think that wearing shorty shorts and a halter top is for YOU and not for men, it’s really for men, isn’t it? Whether you are trying to attract them or not. Because if you were straight up honest with yourself (and you’re anything like me) you would go everywhere in yoga pants and a long sleeved t-shirt, right? Because that’s way more comfy than shorty shorts and a halter top. But women these days are taught, nay, brainwashed to do everything for men, even in this post sexual revolution society (case in point: look at the cover of any “women’s” magazine…the entire thing is about men and how to please them). You’re either dressing modestly for men, or you’re dressing immodestly for/to spite them. So here’s my advice: dress modestly, but do it for YOU. Dress modestly because you care enough about yourself to do so; because you respect yourself enough to know that what matters is the brain in your head and not the skin on your thighs. And think modestly, too, because if you think modestly, in the long run, it really won’t matter what you wear.