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Fr. Timothy Ferguson's avatar

I was born in 1967. My first memories of Mass, in our old, standard midwestern gothic church, were of that combination of old hymns on the organ and a cluster of guitarists centered around Sr. Nancy on the autoharp. There was, to my infant mind, a real energy and joy about it all. I am not sure if I later became jaded, or if the music and the musicians became tired - did reality change, or merely my perception of reality.

As an adult, I can see that the sort of effervescent joy is impossible to sustain over a long period of time for most of us. The mix of human emotions is real and when we try to suppress the sadness, the loneliness, the ache, the angst behind a mask of a broad smile and upbeat melody, we damage ourselves. I think there was - at least some - real joy in the beginning of the liturgical reform as it was implemented in my home parish.

One change that I noted as a child was that in my earliest years in school, the nuns (only one wore a veil, the rest had already ditched the habit in favor of, first sundresses, and later pantsuits) always talked about Jesus. Stories from the Gospel about Jesus. Personal stories about encounters with Jesus. Songs about Jesus (Jesus built His Church upon the rock of Peter, His banner over me is love). Later, by about 4th grade (at which time our old gothic church was torn down and replaced by a suburban church-in-the round with orange carpet and plastic chairs) the topic changed. Jesus was replaced by the Church. The Church - this gathering of people who were going to change the world by coming together, breaking down barriers, loving everyone and singing a lot of contemporary songs that had almost-sacred lyrics (Bridge Over Troubled Waters, Leaving on a Jetplane). By the time I was junior high age, we no longer talked about the Church even, but about Justice - what were we going to do to change the world so that poor people could own lots of material things to make them happy like we do? The music shifted from pop songs to antiquated folk songs (If I Had a Hammer). By high school, in the early 80's, the St. Louis Jesuits and their ilk were rising and, although the focus was shifting more towards scripture texts in lyrics, the emphasis (to my mind) seemed more self-focused. (Here I Am Lord, I Have Called You With an Everlasting Love, Earthen Vessels).

That overarching trajectory - from Jesus to the Church to Justice to Self-Fulfillment seemed to me to be headed in the wrong direction. From those earliest years and earliest stories, I had fallen in love with Jesus. I wanted more of Him. I eagerly consumed the chunky, distasteful, homemade bread which may or may not have been valid matter for the Eucharist (as a canonist, I suspect it wasn't, but I also realize that God's grace filled up in my young soul what was lacking in the physical matter I received) because I wanted Jesus to be a part of me, to heal me and strengthen me and comfort me when the world seemed to be getting scarier and scarier.

It wasn't until college, when I walked into an orchestral High Mass at St. Agnes in St. Paul, Minnesota (Beethoven's Mass in C Major) with incense, priests and deacons vested, silence, reverence, beauty - that I realized what I had been deprived of during my childhood. I wept, for there, in that white host held aloft by the priest as the bells rang and everything else was silent - there was Jesus, the one the nuns helped me to fall in love with as a child. I was surrounded by people loving Him just as much as I did - adoring Him, desiring Him.

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Mary Jane Ballou's avatar

I could only make it through the first four bars of your link to « Let There Be Peace on Earth. » Banned forever would be too kind. I feel the same way about « They Will Know We Are Christians. » I was born into a Protestant family that was deeply suspicious of Catholics and I longed for the day I could convert. Unfortunately, that day coincided with the rise of the 3-chord guitar-playing teenage girls, Blowing in the Wind, As Tears Go By, and If I Had A Hammer. My response - 20 years in the Russian Orthodox Church.

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