Here is an advertisement that runs in the new issue of Today's Liturgy, the largest circulation periodical dealing with Catholic parish music, and the one that dictates to thousands of parishes how their Sunday liturgies will sound and feel. The publisher has spent decades either belittling or ignoring the chant tradition, but now, evidentally, editors and buyers sense that the moment has arrived. And note the headline, with its implied acknowledgement that the chant has vanished from nearly all Catholic liturgy: "Introduce your community to the rich and ancient tradition of Gregorian chant."

Fr. Robert Skeris on why the chant movement failed in the US during the interwar years:

"The chant became too precious and difficult to perform because of the theories of interpretation. Too often choirs imitated rather than learned the chants. School chil­dren in the Midwest sometimes sounded like members of a French choir instead of the children of immigrants from east­ern Europe. Parish choirs found it too difficult to achieve the special effects demanded by the experts, and the result, unfor­tunately, was a reluctance to use chant, especially in parochial choirs and in congregations The chant was intended to be the song of the people, but unfortunately it became an art form whose rendition was beyond the abilities of all except the specially trained."

("A Chronicle of the Reform," in Cum Angelis Canere: Essays on Sacred Music and Pastoral Liturgy in Honour of Richard J. Schuler. Robert A. Skeris, ed., St. Paul MN: Catholic Church Music Associates, 1990, Appendix—6, pp. 349-419, with this quotation from p. 355).

Ignatius Press has recently released an excellent new book by Uwe Michael Lang of the London Oratory entitled Turning Towards The Lord: Orientation In Liturgical Prayer.

As its title would suggest, the work is an historical, theological, and sometimes archaeological study which argues in favor of "the traditional, common direction of liturgical prayer, known as 'facing east.'" It traces in a patient and systematic way the development of a sacred direction: from the practitioners of ancient religions facing whichever direction the sun happened to lie at a particular time of day; to the early Christians' facing east, the direction of the rising sun, primarily in anticipation of the resurrected Christ but also in order to afford some distance from charges of pagan sun-worship; and on to the priest celebrating Mass facing "oriented" toward the high altar, even in churches not built with the apse in the east.

It appears from archaeological evidence, in fact, that the only early churches which were not built on a strictly east-west axis were those in Rome itself: in some cases the tight street grid would not allow for eastward-facing churches, and in others the Roman temples which had been converted into churches could not very well be re-situated. In St. Peter's, for instance, the geography of the site necessitates that the altar be in the western end of the church. The priest would say the Canon of the Mass facing east; that is, in the direction where the congregation happened to be. But at the Canon the congregation, too, would turn around to face east, in the same direction as the priest. Lang demonstrates effectively that "versus Dei" and "versus populi" is a false dichotomy. Likewise, the modern, oft-used phrase of "the priest saying Mass with his back to the people" is unhelpfully biased against an understanding of the sacrificial nature of the Mass, which is a necessary component of sacred direction.

The Preface to the original German edition of the book is by Joseph Cardinal Ratzinger, and is translated for the English edition:

More recently the atmosphere has become more relaxed so that it is possible to raise the kind of questions asked by Jungmann, Bouyer and Gamber without at once being suspected of anti-conciliar sentiments. Historical research has made the controversy less partisan, and among the faithful there is an increasing sense of the problems inherent in an arrangement that hardly shows the liturgy to be open to the things that are above and to the world to come. In this situation, Uwe Michael Lang's delightfully objective and wholly unpolemical book is a valuable guide. Without claiming to offer major new insights, he carefully presents the results of recent research and provides the material necessary for making an informed judgment. The book is especially valuable in showing the contribution made by the Church of England to this question and in giving, also, due consideration to the part played by the Oxford Movement in the nineteenth century (in which the conversion of John Henry Newman matured). It is from such historical evidence that the author elicits the theological answers that he proposes, and I hope that the book, the work of a young scholar, will help the struggle -- necessary in every generation -- for the right understanding and worthy celebration of the sacred liturgy. I wish the book a wide and attentive readership.

Bro. Lang is to be ordained a priest on 11 September 2004 at the Oratory.

The book may be ordered from Ignatius Press here.

In this news story about an Indult for the Old Rite in Dunn, N.C., there is a reference--an inevitable reference, one might observe--to the music as a critical difference between the way the people perceive the practical realities of the old versus new Roman Rite.

"We get a lot of young familes with small children," a parish leader told the reporter. "Younger people really cherish the Gregorian chant. Even if they never grew up with the old Mass, they find it very inspiring. " He adds: "Others come because they miss the good, old music."

Apart from language, is there any more conspicuous difference in the way the faithful experience the rites? Of course there are many differences between them, rooted in text, theology, and the cultural timing of each, and these have been discussed at length in the literature. But based on personal observation and anecodotal evidence, it would appear that the association of the old rite with chant and the new rite with guitars (etc.) is central to the continuing appeal of the old. On the other side, how many times have you heard people say that they left the Catholic Church because they couldn't stand the music anymore? I've heard this plenty.

Of course it doesn't have to be this way, and was never supposed to be this way. The 1963 mandate for reform imagined a Roman Rite in which the full liturgy was sung in chant, with the people participating more fully. To call this an unfulfilled hope understates matters. However, it is only a matter of time and work before this predictable aesthetic division (old rite=chant; new rite=soft rock) begins to fade, and until such time the practical experience of the old rite, such as that provided by Fr. Pasley, will prove critical in providing guidance.