Have you ever come into our church, and as you were settling into prayer noticed that some of the altar flowers looked like they had died? Or maybe watched one of our fearless altar servers snuff the altar candles after Mass, and realized that they looked rather stumpy? There is a reason for that: they are real.
Artificial flowers or candles have no place in worship, not only because they are tacky, but also because they do not fit into the nature of our worship, which is sacrifice. Both the candles and the flowers are consumed by giving their glory to God, just as Christ offers Himself as the perfect sacrifice: to be consumed. But not being themselves divine, their finite gifts expire upon reaching their natural limit; so we obtain fresh flowers, and set out new, tall candles.
Where did the idea for artificial flowers come from, anyway? Long before we invented virtual reality, man had set his mind to the challenges of simulating many of the good things of the world that could be presented, preserved, or transported only at great difficulty and expense.
Once upon a time, when cassette tapes were new technology, “Is it live, or is it Memorex?” was the tagline of an advertisement. The thrust was that the tape was so good that, without seeing the source, one could not tell which was which – the recording, or the live performer. As I type this, I am listening to Brahms streamed through my computer to my wireless speaker. It’s great. I doubt I would ever hear this music at all, much less precisely when and where I am in the mood for it, if it were not for such technologies old and new. But in a vital way, it is not real.
Ask anybody you know when was the last time he enjoyed music that was not only not recorded, but not even amplified electronically – that is, no microphone, no speakers or earbuds, no sound system? If the person you ask is under forty, the answer may well be, “Never” – UNLESS he goes to church, and at Saint Bernadette!
All of the music for our Masses is real: real people, singing live before God, accompanied by instruments that are real, especially our Wicks pipe organ, played by people in our midst. The sound is human strength and breath, and real wind, metal, and wood, that moves through the air that surrounds us and courses through the very fabric of our church building, without microphones, speakers, or electronic amplification.
For years, Andy Brown, eldest of Tom and Jessica, has been playing our organ in varying capacities from little kid noodling on the keys to substitute organist for weekend Masses and funerals. A few weeks ago Andy, freshly graduated from DeMatha and headed to Baylor in the fall, gave a recital in our church. We moved the organ console so that the crowd could see what he was doing with his hands and his feet, a fascinating display of the complexity and speed of movement required to make the glorious sounds. Music originates from people, and that is what makes it a worthy offering to God.
Under the direction of John Henderson, our music here is of a level rarely encountered in an “ordinary” parish church; the breadth and depth of centuries of sacred music from the Church’s treasury. Did you ever think you would stand among so many people singing the centuries-old “Salve Regina,” by heart? Or hear Bach, Victoria, Palestrina, and Elgar sung so beautifully by people whom you know, and have doughnuts with after Mass? It is all real, an authentic gift to God and us.
Our singers have given us marvelous music throughout the pandemic restriction times. Once public officials gave us all permission to sing again, there was remarkable change in the congregational singing that had been tiptoeing along the edges of our liturgies, and that full-throated joy was music to my ears, and John’s too. How vital singing is to our worship!
After Labor Day, we hope both Community Sunday doughnuts and our choirs return at full strength. I cannot wait. Sure, I have recordings, but only the real thing, unrecorded and ephemeral, offered by people in our midst whom we know and love, is music worthy to give glory to God. Pray that people you know, young and old, be willing and able to make the sacrifice of time and effort to offer glorious music before God, and us. Offer a prayer for this intention; maybe even light a candle.
Monsignor Smith
