Rebirth Of Tradition Chanted Mass, Once The Norm Worldwide, Brings Back The Spirit In St. Aloysius Service

To the latecomer at St. Aloysius’ Saturday evening Mass, there is something unusual about the service.

The difference wasn’t immediately clear to Jeffery Burns, who was passing through Spokane on business last week. He was first taken aback by the size of the crowd - almost 500 people. But that wasn’t it.

The salesman genuflected instinctively at the edge of his pew and sat down just as the reader made her way to the lectern.

Burns’ gaze wandered over the gilded icons and domed ceilings. The East Boone church’s European-style architecture is also unusual these days, but that wasn’t it either.

As the reading began Burns bolted upright.

She was singing the Scripture, singing in a bold, soprano voice that held Burns captive through the Old and New Testament readings, and the Gospel lesson.

“I don’t think I’ve ever paid attention so closely to the readings,” Burns said. “I don’t think I’ve ever been so moved by the Bible.”

Burns had stumbled into a chanted Mass, an experimental form of worship that has doubled attendance at St. Al’s Saturday service this month.

New Mass set to old music

The chanted Mass is as old as it is new. Before the reforms of the Second Vatican Council, all Catholic Masses were chanted - in Latin.

It was part of the beauty of the Catholic faith that no matter where you went in the world, the worship was the same.

Then came the new Mass, which, like the old Mass, was written to music. But nobody sang it, at least not the whole thing.

“The new rite is really disjointed,” said Ed Schaefer, director of the Gonzaga University Music Department. “You sing a little, talk a little, sing a little, talk a little, stand a little, sit a little, sing a little, talk a little.

“That’s always jarred me.”

It jarred a lot of Catholics. Some of them charged from the church in droves as the reforms took hold in the early 1970s, joining schismatic groups of traditional Catholics. Others simply accepted the reforms but retained a nostalgia for the old Mass, known as the Tridentine Rite.

A few years ago, a group of Spokane Catholics urged Bishop William Skylstad to resurrect the old Tridentine Mass. He refused, saying it violated the spirit of Vatican II, which encouraged lay people to get involved in services.

This chanted Mass at St. Al’s did not require special permission.

It is not the Tridentine Mass, Schaefer said emphatically. It’s simply the new Mass set to old music. After traveling around the country to see chanted Masses, Schaefer decided to try one in Spokane.

When St. Al’s administrator Don Weber heard about Schaefer’s ambitions, he offered up his church for the trial run. The Mass will be offered at the 5:15 p.m. service on Saturdays, throughout the school year.

“It fits so well with this building,” Weber said. “People sing better in here.”

Congregation sings loud and clear

Schaefer was prepared for the worst the first time he stood in front of the congregation. As the cantor, he envisioned a sea of skeptical faces, refusing to sing with him. To prevent that he had rehearsed the congregation on a few of the songs during the weeks before the debut.

But the Credo (creed), one of the parts sung in Latin, was too long to rehearse. Schaefer held his breath as the priest intoned the prayer for the first time. The worshipers joined in and sang the familiar Latin phrases loud and clear.

“The congregation sang the Credo like they have been doing for centuries, which they have,” he said.

Three weeks later, Burns fumbled through the program looking for the Latin version to the familiar creed.

“Et in unum Dominum (We believe in one Lord),” he sang, trying to match the key of the woman sitting across the aisle. By the end of the prayer, his eyes were closed.

“Et exspecto resurrectionem mortuorum (We look for the resurrection of the dead)” the former altar boy sang.

“It’s not like I’ve never been to a Latin Mass,” said Burns, who was a teenager when his parish switched to the new Mass. “It’s amazing how, once you relax, you remember this stuff.”

Schaefer is convinced that by virtue of being baptized in the church, Catholics have an institutional memory that goes back centuries and is capable of recalling the monastic chants written in the Middle Ages. He’s only half joking.

Tradition is as important as Scripture in defining the Catholic Church. Everything - from worship to theology - is viewed on a continuum. Nothing is brand new.

“Who we think we are is intrinsically connected to who we have been,” Schaefer explained.

That’s why Vatican II seemed so radical. Although theologians can trace the development of the new Mass, the worshiper didn’t always see the connection. In America, Schaefer says, churches practically wiped the slate clean and started over when it came to services.

“I’m not saying that was a bad thing. I think we needed to do that,” Schaefer said. “But for some people, the new Mass doesn’t have a strong external connection to the old rites.”

Discovering connections to God

The chanted Mass may be the bridge for which some Catholics have been searching. Most of the simple melodies were preserved in European monasteries for thousands of years. Schaefer visited one such place, in southwest France, to study along with Benedictine monks who have been commissioned by the pope to update the old chant books.

It was there that everything fell into place.

The old chants tend to take on new meaning after they have been silent for a time.

“I used to be bored out of my mind at Mass as a kid,” Burns said. “But stumbling in here today, not knowing this was a chanted Mass, I found some old connections to God that I had forgotten were even there.”

Schaefer concedes the chanted Mass is not for everybody.

Some people want worship to be an exuberant event where they can express their enthusiasm for God and each other. Others believe it is a time for learning. But some people go to church looking for God, looking for a place where God can reveal himself.

For the last group, the chanted Mass rings true.

“It’s a very prayerful experience,” said Andrea Schmitz, a teacher and music minister who stopped by last week just to see what the fuss was about.

“People were participating. And that says a lot.”

, DataTimes ILLUSTRATION: Color Photo