48: An introduction to musical Masses
The Mass is the central act of worship of the Catholic Church. As we’ve seen in our historical overview, even at that level of detail, it’s clear how influential the Church was in setting up the musical traditions we have: chant, polyphony, cantatas, and so on—and, of course, many hugely influential composers have been priests (most famously Vivaldi).
It's no wonder, then, that so many composers, even those who haven’t been
Catholic, have written “settings of the Mass.” Having written one myself, and working
on 2 more at the moment, let me briefly explain what that means.
There are certain parts of the Mass where there is no
flexibility—no room for options, and nothing based on a calendar(* with some
very minor, specific exceptions).
Every Mass, for example, has some sort of penitential rite, wherein the
congregation ask God for forgiveness and mercy, right at the beginning of the
liturgy, “so that we might worthily celebrate the sacred mysteries.”
After that, every Mass not in Advent or Lent (meaning about 300 days a year)
has a Gloria—the song of the angels announcing the birth of the infant Christ.
Skipping over a lot that can change, the next fixed thing (no
exceptions this time) is the Creed, which must be said Sundays and holy days,
and may be said during the regular week when nothing special is going on.
Skipping further still, before the beginning of the Eucharistic
Prayer (the thing that makes a liturgy a Mass, and not, say, a structured Bible
study)—the central prayer of the Mass itself—the “Sanctus” is sung, evoking the
words of the crowds as Jesus enters Jerusalem on the way to his death and the
crowds hail him as a king (only to turn on him in less than a week) and the
cries of praise of the highest angels in heaven.
Finally, the last fixed part occurs during the Fraction Rite—where the
consecrated Host is split in two and a tiny piece is broken off one of the
halves and placed into the chalice—as the congregation sings the “Agnus Dei”.
All the rest of the Mass can and does change on a daily
basis: there are different selections from the Old and New Testaments read at
each Mass based on a set calendar, and then the “sermon” is more commonly
called the “homily,” which should relate to those readings; there are prayers
written to ask for healing of the sick in the community, for the dead, for the
police/government/etc., for the local Church, and so on; and there are dozens
of possible Prefaces (the prayer immediately before the Sanctus), dozens of
possible Eucharistic Prayers, and so hundreds of Preface-Prayer pairings. The
structure of the Mass may be the same day to day, week to week, but what gets
put into those predetermined slots changes most of the time.
Those parts which are fixed are called the “ordinary” of the
Mass, and the parts that change in response to each day (the readings) are
called the “proper.” “Writing a Mass setting,” then, simply means taking the
proper, in order, and setting it to music. I did this once for my parish—I have
yet to hear it performed by actual humans—and I have been working on doing this
both in memory of Pope Francis and in honor of Pope Leo.
A Mass (Bach’s B minor Mass) has been called “the greatest artistic achievement
of mankind, ever,” so in due time, we’ll be looking, over many articles, at
what goes on inside its 27 movements (and roughly 2 hours of music—about double
the length of a Mass on any regular Sunday, and about quadruple the length of a
Mass on any regular weekday). Masses like the B minor—I highly recommend you
don’t wait for the overview series to start, and you go listen to it now, if
you have about 2 hours free—were, of course, more common when composers had to
work for/in the Church to earn a living (like Bach), before the advent of
either rich court patrons (like Beethoven’s Archduke Rudolph; though he was the
Cardinal Archbishop as well, the music Beethoven wrote for him wasn’t like the
music Bach wrote in and for the Church while working at Lutheran parishes all
over eastern Germany) or, basically, freelancing on one’s own star power (as
Mozart did quite often). But even into the Classical and Romantic eras and
beyond, composers (case in point: me) have continued to write Masses, so the musical
form remains incredibly relevant (and the foundational text of the liturgy is
the same, and has been for centuries, if not millennia).
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