Good music pays for itself - Interview

National Catholic Reporter, August 24, 2001 by Arthur Jones

A cantor praying the song, fully involved, draws congregation in

Music ministry is a vocation, a challenge and a career. Each week a dozen or more NCR classified ads seek liturgical musicians. The content of the advertisements lays out the dimensions of the career and its goals and hopes.

In Eden Prairie, Minn., the Pax Christi Catholic Community "of 4,000 households committed to the principles of Vatican II" seeks a "co-director" familiar "with a wide variety of contemporary music." A Union County, N.J., parish wants a "full-time organist/music director, salary commensurate with experience" while St. Joseph Church in Palm Bay, Fla., wants a director for a parish committed to expanding the "existing program and the shift toward a unified and more contemporary varied music and liturgy program."

Who are some of the people who make church music their ministry and career? NCR talked to three from around the nation, all of whom attended the July meeting of the National Association of Pastoral Musicians.

Seattle

James Savage has a disarming reason parishes should have a vibrant music ministry: "A successful music program," said the music ministries director at Seattle's St. James Cathedral, "brings in money.

"A former pastor used to say to me, `Is the choir doing something grand at offertory this week?' And it took me a while to catch on," said Savage, with a chuckle. "What he'd figured out was that if we did something amazing at the offertory, the collection was higher."

Savage, son of a conservative Baptist preacher -- he played gospel piano at his father's services from the time he was 8 -- was making a finer point. The pastor, "as a steward of money," needs to understand "that a well done music program -- it doesn't have to be huge -- ends up paying for itself." Good music increases attendance, as the 20-year story of Savage at St. James reveals.

When Savage arrived at St. James two decades ago, the cathedral had something most downtown churches don't -- its own oil well, a bequest from a parishioner. It also had 600 elderly parishioners spread across six weekend Masses, no choir, a 1907 Heinz-LaFarge designed Italian Renaissance building on the outside with, on the inside, wall-to-wall carpeting and acoustical tile, "and a minus two-second reverberation." The carpeting and tile sucked the sound dead the moment the organ uttered a note.

Fortunately, there was that steady trickle of oil funds (the well has since run dry) to begin building a music ministry, plus a bishop, Archbishop Raymond Hunthausen, and a pastor, Fr. William Gallagher, as determined as Savage it would succeed.

By 1990, said Savage, there was a new pastor, Fr. Michael Ryan, "a superb musician, a wonderful organist with perfect pitch, and a new bishop, Thomas Murphy. The miracle is both of them are also committed."

Ryan, Savage said, encourages new compositions and commissions "and the exploration of how medieval and earlier music can be used in our time."

In 1994, the cathedral underwent a highly acclaimed complete renovation -- as did the congregation: "We made a commitment to the people singing the Mass, rather than singing at Mass," Savage said.

"With the exception of `Lord I am not worthy,' there are some Masses," said Savage, "where the congregation sings every time they open their mouths.

"There's no organ accompaniment and no cantors waving their hands for any of the dialogues," he added. "We say our major choir is our 10 o'clock Mass with a thousand people."

With 2,300 households registered, the Sunday average now is 3,500 to 4,000 people attending five Masses.

But what do churches without an oil well do to kick-start a compelling music program into life? "It occurred to me that a cathedral choir could no longer model to any other parish in the diocese, so I started a choir of women, 12 to 14 women who -- aside from the cantor -- are not trained. All I ask," he said, "is that they're willing to sing and pray together.

"We sing in unison, occasionally two-part -- a couple don't match pitches very well -- but we do a lot of chant, some American folk music, real folk music, 18th and 19th century, and some British Tudor music. But all in unison," emphasized Savage. "Any parish, I mean any parish, can do that. And the attendance at that Mass -- it used to be a guitar Mass-- has gone up and up, the biggest increase is among people under 35. It's now our second-largest Mass," he said.

As for the organist who grew up in the preacher's house, he has a master's in church music from the University of Oregon, did doctoral work at Tubingen and the degree itself at the University of Washington. And he's a Catholic.

"God and I knew I was a Catholic back in my teens," he said.

Tampa, Fla.

Joanne Johnson wants the congregation to sing. At the same time, as a cantor she doesn't want to be a one-person musical performance. Her prescriptions are common-sense, if not always easy to achieve.

"If people know what they're singing, if they are instructed in the text and why we sing it where we sing it, and why it's selected -- so they understand the importance of it -- then," said Johnson, "they're more likely to sing."