Showing posts with label Pius XII. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Pius XII. Show all posts

Tuesday, April 29, 2025

Pius XII, The Function of Art (April 8, 1952)

[3] An address by His Holiness Pope Pius XII to a group of Italian artists received in audience on April 8, 1952.

1. With deep satisfaction, beloved sons and daughters, promoters of the figurative arts, We welcome your devout homage and that of your families, by reason of your coming to Us on the occasion of the sixth Roman quadrennial meeting, and We express to you Our pleasure for the remembrance-gift which you are leaving with Us.

2. How delightful your presence is to Us is shown by the tradition itself of the Roman pontificate. As the heir of universal culture it has never ceased to appreciate art, to surround itself with works of art, to make art, within due limits, the collaborator of its divine mission, preserving and elevating its destiny, which is to guide the soul to God.

3. Upon crossing the threshold of this house of the common Father, you felt as though you were in your own world, perceiving yourselves and your ideals in the masterpieces gathered here throughout the centuries. Nothing is lacking therefore to make this meeting mutually delightful between the Successor, though unworthy, of those Pontiffs who shone as generous patrons of the arts, and you who continue the Italian artistic tradition.

4. It is needless to explain to you—who feel it within yourselves, often as a noble torment—one of the essential characteristics of art, which consists in a certain intrinsic 'affinity' of art with religion, which in certain ways renders artists interpreters of the infinite perfections of God, and particularly of the beauty and harmony of God's creation.

5. The function of all art lies in fact in breaking through the narrow and tortuous enclosure of the finite, in which man is immersed while living here below, and in providing a window to the infinite for his hungry soul.

[4] 6. Thus it follows that any effort—and it would be a vain one, indeed—aimed at denying or suppressing any relation between art and religion must impair art itself. Whatever artistic beauty one may wish to grasp in the world, in nature and in man, in order to express it in sound, in color, or in plays for the masses, such beauty cannot prescind from God. Whatever exists is bound to Him by an essential relationship. Hence, there is not, neither in life nor in art—be it intended as an expression of the subject or as an interpretation of the object—the exclusively "human," the exclusively "natural" or "immanent."

7. The greater the clarity with which art mirrors the infinite, the divine, the greater will be its possibility for success in striving toward its ideal and true, artistic accomplishment. Thus, the more an artist lives religion, the better prepared he will be to speak the language of art, to understand its harmonies, to communicate its emotions.

8. Naturally, We are far from thinking that in order to be interpreters of God in the sense just mentioned, artists must treat explicitly religious subjects. On the other hand, one cannot question the fact that never, perhaps, has art reached its highest peaks as it has in these subjects.

9. In this manner, the great masters of Christian arts became interpreters, not only of the beauty but also of the goodness of God, the revealer and Redeemer. Marvelous exchange of services between Christianity and art! From their Faith they drew sublime inspirations. They drew hearts to the Faith when for continuous centuries they communicated and spread the truths contained in the Holy Scriptures, truths inaccessible, at least directly, to the humble people.

10. In truth, artistic masterpieces were known as the "Bible of the people," to mention such noted examples as the windows of Chartres, the door of Ghiberti (by happy expression known as the Door of Paradise), the Roman and Ravenna mosaics and the facade of the Cathedral of Orvieto. These and other masterpieces not only translate into easy reading and universal language the Christian [5] truths, they also communicate the intimate sense and emotion of these truths with an effectiveness, lyricism and ardor that, perhaps, is not contained in even the most fervent preaching.

11. Souls ennobled, elevated and prepared by art, are thus better disposed to receive the religious truths and the grace of Jesus Christ. This is one of the reasons why the Sovereign Pontiffs, and the Church in general, honored and continue to honor art and to offer its works as a tribute of human beings to God's Majesty in His churches, which have always been abodes of art and religion at the same time.

12. Beloved children, crown your artistic ideals with those of religion, which revitalize and integrate them. The artist is of himself a privileged person among men, but the Christian artist is, in a certain sense, a chosen one, because it is proper to those chosen to contemplate, to enjoy and to express God's perfections. 

13. Seek God here below in nature and in man, but above all within yourselves. Do not vainly try to give the human without the divine, nor nature without its Creator. Harmonize instead the finite with the infinite, the temporal with the eternal, man with God, and thus you will give the truth of art and the true art.

14. Even without making it a specific aim, endeavor to educate men's hearts—so easily inclined toward materialism—toward kindness and a spiritual feeling; you to whom it is given to speak a language which all peoples can understand. Strive to bring men closer to one another. May the artist's vocation, for which you are indebted to God, lead you to this mission: a mission so noble and worthy that it is sufficient in itself to give to your daily life—often harsh and arduous—its fullness and a courageous faith.

15. In order that these Our wishes may be fulfilled and God glorified in your art, We invoke upon you and your families an abundance of heavenly favors and may the Apostolic Blessing which We impart upon you from the fulness of Our heart be a promise of them.

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Source: Pius XII, "The Function of Art," address, The Function of Art: Address of Pope Pius XII; On Sacred Art—Instruction of the Supreme Sacred Congregation of the Holy Office (Washington, D.C.: National Catholic Welfare Conference, 1952), 3-5.

Pius XII, The Art of Fra Angelico: Window into Heaven (April 20, 1955)

 [125] Address of Pope Pius XII at Opening of Exhibition of Paintings of Fra Angelico at the Vatican

In welcoming into Our dwelling so many masterpieces of Fra Giovanni of Fiesole it is Our intention not only to pay a special tribute of admiration to his genius, which reached the highest pinnacle of art by drawing inspiration from the mysteries of faith. It is also Our desire to revive the deeply religious and human message his paintings have preached to his own and succeeding generations, which have never tired of contemplating his symbolic images where beauty and harmony seem to transcend the summit of the purely human and to open as it were a window into Heaven.

Above all, We wish to express Our great pleasure at the extensive study inspired by the 5th centenary of his death. It has stimulated outstanding critics and authors to deepen and spread knowledge of the personality and work of Fra Angelico in noteworthy publications. Some of these have presented in a new and truer light the period and currents of thought and art which marked the first half of the 15th century. They are publications which redound to the honor not only of the arts but of culture in general and of religion itself.

Perennial witness

We wish also to express Our heartfelt gratitude toward each and all of those distinguished persons who responded with filial solicitude to Our desires and arranged that the works of Fra Angelico, cherished as incomparable treasures in the museums and galleries of various nations, be entrusted to U s for a while on this happy occasion. This has secured Us the pleasure of viewing them and at the same time the joy of being able to show them to Our beloved sons from all over the world who will be visiting Rome at this time. 

The present Exhibition is the first important collection of Angelico's works in one place, and fittingly enough in this Apostolic Palace, whose threshold the eminent man of genius crossed many times. The humble and pious Fra [126] Giovanni of Fiesole, as is well known, came here at the peak of his artistic maturity at the request of Our predecessors, first of Eugene IV, and later of the great patron of the arts Nicholas V, to whom the Renaissance owes much of its early beginnings. And here ono these walls Angelico immortalized some of the most vigorous creations of his artistic imagination, an honor and adornment of this Apostolic residence, and a perennial witness of the perfect accord between Religion and art. 

The homage rendered today, after five centuries, to this holy monk and consummate artist, gives added meaning to the well deserved tribute We gladly pay him, because, among other things, his memory and his work seem somehow associated with Our own laborious Pontificate. It is a pleasures to recall Our visit fifteen years ago to the Basilica of Santa Maria sopra Minerva where his mortal remains are cherished with pious devotion. But in a special way, Fra Angelico, who may be called the ecstatic painter of Mary Queen of Heaven, recalls the extraordinary favor Divine providence granted Our lowliness, that of honoring the Mother of God in singular ways. Among these was crowning with Our own hand the image of the Virgin, as he did so often in the ecstasy of art in masterpieces which throughout the centuries have remained models of celestial beauty.

Acclaimed in every age

And now Our high esteem for Fra Angelico, so many of whose works are here before us, would lead Us to make some analytical comment on his art. However, Our present condition permits Us only to touch briefly upon a few of its most characteristic aspects. We shall leave to the eminent critics the function and pleasure of going deeply into some of the questions which have always interested lovers of art since the age in which he flourished and especially since the science of the history and the criticism of art developed with its own methodology. It is inf act one of the great honors of Fra Angelico that in every age he has claimed the admiring attention of scholars. [127] Nor in fact could he have been overlooked by anyone attempting to trace the main avenues along which Western culture advanced; he is unquestionably one of the pillars of this culture, as a successful promoter of its progress and development as well as an interpreter of his own era.

While in the past and the present critical judgments have been divided in his regard, these judgments have been concerned only with secondary aspects of his personality or of the genesis of his art, or else have differed only in its interpretation. But no honest critic has ever questioned his essential attributes, which are universally recognized, namely, that he was a very great painter, of deep spirituality, a felicitous innovator, an effective, sincere and perfect artist. Although with the passage of time tastes and fashions change in the field of art, too, and although the search for new forms of expression often leads to a certain forgetfulness or disdain of the old, Fra Angelico, like all great and true geniuses, has never in any age suffered a lessening of the admiration he evoked both in the scholar and in the popular mind. His art is bound, it is true, to one time; it belongs to a specific era, succeeded by many, many others. But later developments are not to be considered as improving on or surpassing his art, as if it had lacked perfection or failed to attain its goal. The most modern scholars concur in this basic judgment, and have also resolved in his favor the long debated question as to whether he was a disciple of the Gothic tradition or a precursor of the humanistic renaissance. Fra Angelico was ready and prompt to assimilate the new revivifying currents of art, but he always strove to preserve for it the traditional religious character of its didactic and ethical aims. There is no doubt that he was one of the most representative links in the labor of transition from one period to the next.

Sermon and prayer

Similarly, his personality has been set in its true light, extricated from the popular and pious legend which depicted the fervent friar painting his Saints while absorbed in unconscious ecstasy, his brush guided by superterrestrial beings. This does not mean, however, that his profound religious sense, his serene and austere asceticism, nourished by solid virtue, contemplation and prayer, did not exercise a determining influence on his artistic expression, giving it the potency and immediacy with which it spoke to the minds of others and, as has frequently been noted, transmuting it into prayer, just as he was int h e habit of repeating "he who makes the things of Christ ought always to be with Christ" (G. Vasari, Vite dei piu eccell. Pittori, Scult. ed. Arch., Florence, 1878, t. II, p. 520).

As for whether or not he derives in certain respects from Giotto; what influence Masaccia had on him; with what criteria he resolved the new and difficult problems then debated around the theories of space and light; how he understood the return to classicism; whether he sided with Cennini, who considered that the function of painting was to discover the invisible, [128] and not with Alberti, who restricted the realm of art to the visible alone; whether he intended an explicit polemical stand against the neoplatonic current, which he unquestionably rejected — these questions are still objects of studies and research which do honor to those who conduct them. 

Thomistic in content and technique

The candid piety of Fra Angelico is rightly considered an essential basis for his efficacy as a painter. But still another basis is to be sought in his cultural formation, that is in the doctrine of the universe he learned in the school of the philosophia perennis and to which he adhered with clear and tranquil certitude. Not a few critics have rightly pointed out how Thomistic doctrine is reflected not only in the content of his paintings but also in his style and technique. Fra Angelico takes nature as his point of departure, one might say, like the great Doctor in his exposition of the "five ways." And he loves nature passionately as the work and the reflection of God. However, he insists on highlighting the aesthetic aspects of nature; he seems in fact to be striving boldly to fix upon it his own ideal of beauty, sought in devout contemplation of his supernatural world. The vision of creation in his aesthetic form is neither stunted nor incomplete, for he identifies the beautiful with the true, the good, the holy, the perfect, the chaste, almost in the same way that the Divine perfections, of which creatures are the reflection, are not really distinct in God but only more or less explicitly so because of the innate weakness of the created intellect.

The Alpha and the Omega

Likewise he has learned from the teachings of St. Thomas the great synthesis of the universe, which, varied as it is in the elements which compose it, takes its origin from God and returns to Him after having run its course in the form of an orbit radiant with harmony, beauty, truth and holiness. This synthesis seems reflected in those famous compositions in which delightful figures of angels, saints, friars and virgins form a crown for the throne of the Redeemer and his Mother.

Celestial light

Certainly Fra Angelico's painting is always religious, both in subject matter and in style and method of treatment. Accustomed to the tranquility of monastic discipline, and striving always for perfection in intention, in word, and in action, it is natural he should seek to attain it also in the techniques of his art, which, as a result, is always cleanly bright and serene. In his life, as in his paintings, there are no moments of exterior drama, but inner struggles, fought in complete resignation to the Divine Will and with calm confidence in the victory of good. The very light which he pours over his figures and through his backgrounds is measurable not so much in quantity as by its quality of purity; it is in so far as possible, a celestial light.

Spiritual lyricism

His themes are simple and [129] linear, patterned as it were on the style of the Evangelists. His figures always reveal an intense interior life. Their countenances, their gestures, their movements are all transfigured by it. As he narrates or expounds the divine mysteries to his audience, Fra Angelico is ever the skillful [sic] "preacher," seeking to elicit an immediate response with descriptive and decorative elements in order to speak more quietly to the inmost soul. When, on the other hand, his aim is to offer a subject for contemplation to his brother monks, practised [sic] in the meditation of supernatural truths, he is careful to eliminate any element of distraction, such as strong tones of light and color or the busy converse of too many figures and gestures, and his emphasis then is on the purely internal. The figures are sublimated in an ethereal, other-worldly lightness, the background is empty, the canvas is smaller, and the decorative elements so dear to him, like the gentle landscapes of his native Tuscany and the architectural forms created by Brunelleschi, disappear. The result is a spiritual lyricism, bursting from pure interior harmony, which still hovers in the cells and corridors of the convent of San Marco in Florence, whose walls alone would be sufficient to celebrate an artist's immortal glory.

On occasion, as in this "study" of Nicholas V and in other large altar pieces, he uses a monumental style but always within the measure allowed by his artistic purpose, become by now his unalterable canon of expression, namely, to speak of things divine in accents which are true and understandable but at the same time worthy of God and of his Saints.

Religion, a transhumanizing force

But what is substantially the aim of the picture language which Fra Angelico addresses to the children of his own and succeeding centuries? On the one hand, his purpose is to teach the truths of faith, convincing men's minds by the very force of their beauty. On the other, he aims to draw the faithful to the practice of the Christian virtues by setting before them beautiful and attractive examples. Because of this second purpose, his work becomes a perennial message of living Christianity, and, in a certain sense a sublimely human message based on the principle of the transhumanizing force of religion, by virtue of which everyone who comes in direct contact with God and his mysteries becomes like Him in holiness, in beauty and in bliss; becomes, that is, a creature according to the original design of his Creator. 

Model man—balanced, serene, perfect

Fra Angelico's brush, therefore, gives life to a kind of model man, not unlike the angels, in whom all is balanced, serene, perfect: a model man and Christian, rarely found perhaps in the circumstances of earthly life but still to be offered for imitation by the people. Look carefully at the Saints who surround Christ and the Virgin, or even the anonymous figures in his picture stories. They betray no intellectual uncertainties or torments; each of them enjoys the [130] calm possession of the truth, which he has attained by natural knowledge or by supernatural faith. Their will is oriented toward the good; the passions, reactions, emotions to which they are subject because they are human creatures, are always tempered by the inner control of the soul. The tears for the dead Redeemer represent indeed a bitter grief but not desperate anguish. The joy of the blessed is not yet abandonment to uncontainable exultation. The austerity of the penitents has no shadow of torment. The contemplative concentration of St. Dominic is quite different from the ecstatic abstraction which would erase his human personality. The vehemence of John the Baptist is controlled by the strong temper of his soul. This moderation in the passions and emotions is what Fra Angelico wished to preach to Christian souls. 

Positive goodness

A positive goodness, besides, clothes every one of his figures, be they angels, or saintly religious, or humble folk. His Madonnas breathe a material goodness even when seated in majestic grandeur on a throne. The angel who has received from God the tremendous duty of driving the first parents from Eden manages to lay a sword-free hand on Adam's shoulder, as if to give him courage and hope. Even the wicked judges and executioners of the martyrs have a certain air of goodness about them, as if they were conscious of being the instruments of God's glory.

It might be said, in fact, that the artist himself declares his inability to portray what is turbid or evil. Constrained at times to include in his world the darker elements of human reality, he avoids as much as possible their direct portrayal, as can be noted in the "Martyrdom of Saints Cosmas and Damian" and in the "Last Judgment." The group of the damned in the latter painting is attributed by some to disciples of his school.

Man, in Fra Angelico's world, which is the world of truth, is naturally neither good nor holy. But he can and must become so, for holiness is easy and beautiful, since Christ, whose ultimate sacrifice he painted so often, died for this very purpose, His most holy Mother is the supreme example of it, the Saints rejoice because they have attained it and the Angels take delight in conversing with the Saints.

Reward of virtue

To win souls to the virtues he sets before them, he highlights not so much the effort of achieving them as the bliss that comes from possessing them and the nobility of those adorned by them. Thus the profound humility of the Virgin listening to Gabriel is expressed in her face with the same queenliness that illumines it as she is crowned by her Son. Thus both portraits of the Virgin bespeak the same queenliness, except for the slight hint of perturbation in the one, transformed into a delicate smile of joyousness in the other. In the condemnation of St. Stephen, virtue and passion confront each other in the persons of the accused and the judge respectively. But the accused humiliates the man of power, though seated on his throne, by the [131] sheer fearless strength of his faith. Fra Angelico is unsurpassed in weaving praises of other Christian virtues. This praise becomes perhaps a poem in the wonderful fresco here which might be called the apotheosis of poverty and misfortune endured with a Christian spirit. The blind man, the paralytic, the man covered with sores, the widow and the other poor who cluster about the holy deacon Lawrence draw from the Christian faith that fills them a shining dignity which their pitiful miseries cannot obscure. Perhaps one of the many delightful angels who grace his other pictures would not be out of place in this group of human creatures, who may be poor but whose soul is rich with serenity and hope.

World of peace and holiness

The world of Fra Angelico's paintings is indeed the ideal world, radiant with the aura of peace, holiness, harmony and joy; its reality lies int he future when ultimate justice will triumph over a new earth and new heavens (cf. 2 Pet. 3, 13). Yet, this gentle and blessed world can even now come to life in the recesses of men's souls, and it is to them he offers it, inviting them to enter in. It is this invitation which seems to Us to be the message Fra Angelico entrusts to his art, confident that it will thus be effectively spread. 

Art and religion

It is true that an explicit religious or ethical function is not demanded of art as art. If, as the aesthetic expression of the human spirit, it reflects that spirit in its complete verity or at least does not positively distort it, art is in itself sacred and religious, that is, in so far as it is the interpreter of a work of God. But if its content and aim are such as Fra Angelico gave his painting, then art rises to the dignity almost of a minister of God, reflecting a greater number of perfections.

Sublime possibility

We should like to point out to artists, who are ever dear to Us, this sublime possibility of art. For if instead the words and cadences of artistic expression were fitted to minds which are false, empty and confused, that is, unlike the Creator's plan, if, instead of lifting the mind and heart to noble sentiments, art excited the baser passions, it would indeed encounter some response and welcome, if only because of its novelty, which is not always a virtue, and because of the slim fraction of reality reflected in all human expression. But such art would be a degradation of itself; it would be a negation of its primary and essential character. Nor would it be universal and eternal, like the human spirit to which it speaks.

A message religious and human

In paying homage to the greatness of the artist and in inviting Our beloved sons to accept, almost as if disposed by Providence, the religious and human message of Fra Giovanni of Fiesole, Our mind cannot escape the anxious consideration of the present world in which we live, so different form that portrayed in these wonderful [132] paintings, win which the loftiest and truest human aspirations are sealed with exquisite artistry.

Ardently therefore do We hope that the breath of Christian goodness, serenity and Divine harmony that escapes from the works of Fra Angelico may pervade the hearts of all, while in pledge of more abundant grace from heaven, We impart with all Our heart Our paternal Apostolic Blessing.

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Source: Pius XII, "The Art of Fra Angelico: Window into Heaven," address, The Pope Speaks 2, no. 2 (summer 1955): 125-132.

Monday, April 21, 2025

Pius XII, Address to the First International Congress of Catholic Artists (September 3, 1950)

 [3] You have undertaken a thing both timely and useful, dearly beloved sons, in promoting and organizing among yourselves the First International Congress of Catholic Artists, the distinguished representatives of which we are happy to greet on this occasion.

So much has already been said about art — that inexhaustible subject! Your present undertaken moves us to outline — very briefly — art's part in the task of Peace [sic]. Pax Romana!

The tremors of a world shaken to its foundation, misunderstandings between the minds of men, opposing interests, and shadows cast by hypersensitive individualism — all these, despite the new abundance of contacts and assimilation in material matters, have sharpened the sense of separateness, broadened and deepened the moral distances. The very excess of this evil has bit by bit made clearer the need for uniting in common action all the scattered strength of the nations and peoples anxious for peace. 

Neither to-day nor yet yesterday have first seen tenacious and skilful [sic] efforts everywhere aimed at bringing about joint action or cooperation with other lands. Contemporary events have stressed, not the futility and uselessness, but rather the inadequacy and shallow-rootedness of such efforts. Hence, with laudable eagerness, and faced with difficulties of every kind, men have set about establishing international associations on the political, juridical, economic, and social levels. it was promptly realized that there was still need for something more intimate, more human, and associations — at least partial associations — have begun to take shape in the technical, scientific, and cultural realms.

On this intellectual level, the Congress of Catholic Artists, now holding its first general meeting, ranks among the most estimable activities. This is self-evident, given first of all that art is, in certain respects, the most living, the most all-inclusive expression of human thought and feeling, and, moreover, the most broadly understandable, because art, speaking directly to the senses, knows not the diversity of tongues, but only the highly stimulating diversity of temperaments and mentalities. What is more, thanks to its subtlety and refinement, art — whether heard or seen — reaches depths in the mind and heart of him who beholds or listens, which words, either spoken or written, with their insufficiently shaded analytical precision, cannot attain.

For these two reasons, art helps men — regardless of all differences in character, education, or civilization — to know themselves, to understand themselves, at least mutually to comprehend each other and, consequently, to make common store of their respective resources with a view to rounding themselves out, one complementing the other. 

A first condition is required for art to be able to produce so desirable a result: namely, its expressive value, lacking [4] which it ceases to be a true art. To say as much is not superfluous in our day when all too often, among certain groups, the work of art is not sufficient in itself to render the thought, to externalize the feelings, to lay bare the soul of its author. Yet the moment it needs to be explained in verbal terms, it loses its value as a sign and serves only to afford the senses a physical joy rising no higher than their own level, or else it affords the mind merely the pleasure of subtle and useless play. Another condition exists if art is to accomplish fruitfully and worthily its glorious mission of understanding, of concord, and of peace; this is that through art the senses, far from burdening the soul and anchoring it to earth, should indeed supply the soul with wings, with which it may lift itself above passing trifles and meannesses toward the eternal, toward the true, toward the beautiful, toward the only true good, toward the only centre [sic] where union takes place, where unity is achieved, toward God. Is it not here that we may literally apply the resplendent utterance of the Apostle? "For since the creation of the world His invisible attributes are clearly seen — His everlasting power also and Divinity — being understood through the things that are made." (Rom. i. 20.)

Hence all the schools of thought which cause art to forfeit its sublime role profane it and make it sterile. "Art for art's sake": as though it could serve itself as it sown end, sentenced to bestir itself, to drag itself about close to sensible and material things; as though through art man's senses do not obey a vocation higher than that of the simple apprehension of material nature, the vocation to awaken in the mind and soul of man, thanks to the transparency of that nature, the desire for "things that the eye has not seen or ear heard, nor has it entered into the heart of man." (I Cor. ii. 9.)

We shall say nothing here about an immoral art, which professedly lowers and enslaves the soul's spiritual powers to the passions of the flesh. After all, the words "art" and "immoral" are in flagrant contradiction, and your programme [sic] nowhere suggests their union. Congratulations, then, Gentlemen, for having understood the task incumbent upon you and for having desired, in the face of a "culture without hope" to regard art as "the source of a new hope." Make then to smile upon the earth, upon mankind, the reflection of the divine beauty and the divine light, and you shall, as you help man to love all things which are true, pure, just, holy, and worthy of love, have greatly contributed to the task of peace, and the "God of peace will be with you." (Cf. Phil. iv. 8-9.) May the immaculate Virgin, mirror of God's justice and splendor, Queen of peace, and whom we may well call the Queen of the arts, inspire and help you, may she cause to descend upon you, whose .lovingly contemplated ideal she is, her Son's graces, in pledge of which we give you — you and the whole body of Catholic artists and all those who are dear to you — our apostolic benediction.

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Source: Pius XII, "The Sovereign Pontiff's Address to the First International Congress of Catholic Artists" (September 3, 1950), address, Liturgical Arts 19, no. 1 (1950): 3-4.

Monday, September 28, 2020

Thomas Merton on Latin and Gregorian Chant (1964)

 [234] To Dom Ignace Gillet

September 11, 1964

[236] Much is said here about Latin and Gregorian chant: things to be "suppressed" because we do not "understand" them. Well, this is a very serious point. I believe that, as you say, many young people more easily admit that they are dissatisfied with the Gregorian chant and the Latin, because they are made to believe this. I know very well that in our monasteries in America there is a real movement, an agitation, for this and for still other things. People are pushed into thinking that they are dissatisfied with the Latin, the Gregorian chant, the status of laybrother, the liturgy as we have it, when in reality that is not the case at all. For a long time it was said here that "the brothers" in general wanted to change habit, come to choir, change their status, etc. But it was only a few brothers who, moreover, were not always the best ones but who got more agitated and had more to say, and who tried to persuade the others to go with them, etc. You know these stories quite well by now.

But this is what I think about the Latin and the chant: They are masterpieces, which offer us an irreplaceable monastic and Christian experience. They have a force, an energy, a depth without equal. All the proposed English offices are very much impoverished in comparison—besides, it is not at all impossible to make such things understood and appreciated. Generally I succeeded quite well in this, in the novitiate, with some exceptions, naturally, who did not understand well. But I must add something more serious. As you know, I have many friends in the world who are artists, poets, authors, editors, etc. Now they are well able to appreciate our chant and even our Latin. But they are all, without exception, scandalized and grieved when I tell them that probably this Office, this Mass will no longer be here in ten years. And that is the worst. The monks cannot understand this treasure they possess, and they throw it out to look for something else, when seculars, who for the most part are not even Christians, are able to love this incomparable art.

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Source: Thomas Merton, The School of Charity: The Letters of Thomas Merton on Religious Renewal and Spiritual Direction, ed. Patrick Hart (New York, NY: Farrar, Straus & Giroux, 1990), 234, 236.

Thursday, November 7, 2019

The Encyclical Musicae Sacrae Disciplina (1957)

[8] Nature and Structure of the Pontifical Document

In order to appreciate in an objective fashion the scope of the latest pontifical document on sacred music, it is necessary, above all else, to clarify its nature, not only from the strictly jurisdictional point of view, but also from the historical point of view, taking this latter in its broadest sense, that is, by relating this document to the traditions of the past and the present situation, and to the developments which sacred music might now undergo by reason of the principles set forth by the Encyclical.

We shall limit ourselves to a study of the second aspect, after we have set forth the essential points of the recent pontifical document. From the jurisdictional point of view, we know that an Encyclical Letter is an essentially doctrinal document which the Sovereign Pontiff sends, as Doctor of the Universal Church, to the Catholic Hierarchy, in order to determine or clarify the fundamental principles which should inspire the clergy and faithful in order to resolve both old and new problems which arise in a certain area of the spiritual life. In the present case, this is in the domain of sacred music, which, as the recent Encyclical has once more confirmed and illustrated with perfect clarity, is unique among the fine arts as being the most directly related to the very center of Catholic spiritual life, the liturgy.

In contrast, a Regulation (such as those of 1884 and 1894 on the Sacred Congregation of Rites on sacred music), an Instruction (such as the Motu Proprio of St. Pius), an Apostolic Constitution (such as the Divini Cultus sanctitatem of Pius XI) all set forth with authority, although in different [9] ways and with differing degrees of jurisdictional obligation, the particular and analytical norms of essentially practical and disciplinary nature, although they may also recall and propose, as occasion demands, certain principles of a general nature, but without any precise intention of making a theory or system. It would, however, be erroneous to wish to discover in the recent Encyclical any presently-applicable [sic] norms on sacred music.

Naturally, after viewing the principles which have just been established in this way by the Encyclical, we feel a necessity for a deep and radical revision and a further elaboration and integration of musical legislation which has been in force up to now, in order that these general principles may be put into practice. But for the time being it must be on these general principles that specialists and church musicians will focus their attention. Moreover, it is on this aspect, too, that we shall concentrate in this brief commentary.

It is quite clear that the recent pontifical document, without going into the myriad details which discussion might raise, has a position of unique importance in the history of legislation dealing with sacred music. This will be either because of the form in which it was promulgated (that is, an Encyclical Letter, the most solemn and most authoritative of all pontifical documents), or because of its universality, since it was addressed to the Episcopacy of the entire Catholic world, as well as of those territories subject to a common law such as oriental or missionary, or because of the scope of the subject matter which, without, as we have said, getting to details, does touch upon the more important problems of sacred music.

Moreover, from this point of view, the Encyclical Musicae Sacrae Disciplina ranks without comparison at the top of the scale of respective values of legislative documents in this regard, being truly the first Encyclical of universal scope on sacred music. We should note in this regard that the Encyclical Annus qui of Benedict XIV, dated February 19, 1749, which, because of the extent of its subject and the erudition with which it is treated, still holds today a primacy [10] which it is not easy to surpass, remains nevertheless a document of restricted scope, since it was sent to the bishops of the Pontifical State to have them restore in their dioceses the various kinds of sacred music. This was done in view of the immanent celebration of the Holy Year of 1750, and to seek to have those abuses eliminated which had infiltrated the services and which would have scandalized pilgrims visiting the area.

Before entering the internal analysis of the Encyclical, it may be worthwhile to examine briefly its exterior form, an element which reflects the typically Roman style and mentality of the ecclesiastical Legislator.

Anyone who has followed the course of the heated discussions which have been developed for over a century in regard to sacred music, up to the lively polemics of our day, knows full well the mira varietas of the opinions and methods being promulgated by one or another group. The Encyclical, however, although presenting this mira varietas clearly (and whoever knows well enough how to read between the lines will easily find allusions, direct or indirect, to certain trends and movements), the Encyclical, we have said, places itself above the controversy and sets forth in four parts — standing like the four great pillars of a sturdy edifice of classical form — the principles which form the basis of the resolution of the varying points of view which we have noted.

Since we are here concerned with music, we might also compare this Encyclical with a great symphonic composition, which, in the course of four movements, develops with perfect mastery the proposed theme.

After the short introduction, the First Part, the first movement, if you will, is developed like an Andante, which, with boldness and power in its construction, begins with the prototype of music in God (according to the Augustinian conception, of Platonic inspiration) and, traversing a bridge as long as it is strong, arrives at the final developments within us of the divine art of sounds.

[11] The Second Part, the second "movement", is like an Adagio, in which the soul is elevated to the contemplation of the Catholic aesthetic of art in general, of sacred and religious art, and particularly of sacred music. Then, in an intensive and expressive crescendo, it arrives at the sublime aria, bordering on ecstasy, which sings of the unique dignity of sacred music and of church musicians.

The Third Part, the third movement, like a Rondo, treats successively of sacred music in its various forms, it [sic] styles and its kinds.

Finally, the Fourth Part, the fourth movement, is like an Allegro energico, which conveys the laborious rhythm of those who are called to put into practice the reform and restoration of sacred music in our day.

The Spirit Which Shapes the Encyclical; Its Thread of Continuity

The element which directly links the four parts of the Encyclical and the various developments of each part, as the soul is bound to the body, is the spirit which shapes it, and which is nothing more than the Catholic conception of art and sacred music.

We know of the unfortunate wanderings which certain systems of thought, following the opposite path of the philosophia perennis, have provoked in the domain of aesthetics in general and in that of music in particular, with the inevitable consequence in artistic production, particularly of music, in recent times.

Rejecting the necessary dependence on a transcendant [sic] principle, with the pretext of autonomy and freedom, the artist finds himself, alas, like the proverbial ship without a rudder, without the safe and sure guide which conducts his genius to a certain goal, having before him neither the North Star to guide him in his course, nor the beacon to keep him from shipwreck.

[12] All this is not freedom, but distraction, which sometimes cultivates folly and leads to the absurd. The furor of some contemporary music is proof of this.

The Encyclical, without pretending to "give laws of aesthetic or technical nature as regards the noble discipline of music", wishes rather "that it be preserved from anything that could diminish its dignity, called as it (music) is to lend its power in an area of such great importance as that of the divine cult".

Modern musicians and artists are free, then, to go and come from one experiment to the next, within the noisy bogs of the attempts to which profane art and music are currently given over.

It is quite clear, however, that the Church does not and cannot tolerate similar experiments quasi in corpore vili, in matters concerning the divine cult. Too, whereas the Church opens the doors of the temple to everything that "the genius of man has been able to create of the good and beautiful over the course of centuries, under the conditions that the liturgical laws be respected,"[1] "She must exclude from sacred music with utmost care . . . everything unsuited to the divine cult or which prevents the faithful from lifting their souls to God."[2]

This clarification which confirms and strengthens the principles of the well-known Instruction of the Holy Office on sacred art was more needed than ever before. All artists, even those not directly associated with sacred art, should be grateful to the Church, which, following the glorious tradition which has made of Her an enlightened patron of the arts, has once more shown them the true path of true art.

Positively, then, the Encyclical sets forth the principles of sacred music, clarifying its very high dignity and its supernatural end with such noble and lofty words and expressions [13] that we have probably never before been offered anything similar in a pontifical document. Moreover, I have no fear of exaggeration in saying that this passage of the Encyclical is like a Credo of sacred music and merits for that reason to be profoundly meditated upon, assimilated and professed by church musicians . . . and not only by musicians, but by all those who live in the Church.

Necessarily bound to this clarification of sacred music is the exalting of the mission of those who, in variuos ways, have devoted themselves to cultivate or promote it. "All such persons, without doubt," solemnly states the Encyclical, "truly and properly carry out an apostolate, even though in diverse and varied ways. By virtue of their office, they are not merely artists and masters, but also ministers and collaborators with Jesus Christ in the apostolate, and they must strive to manifest by their conduct the dignity of their functions."

And here we enter that element which, following the Catholic conception of art and sacred music, constitutes the unifying thread of the whole Encyclical: I mean the spiritual position of the artist and musician in regard to Religion, in relationship with those pastoral aims which sacred music in particular assumes.

"The artist who does not have faith and who is far from God in soul and in conduct," affirms the Sovereign Pontiff, "should not in any way take part in sacred art. He does not in fact possess that interior vision which would permit him to see what is required by the majesty of God and His cult. We cannot hope that his works, deprived of religious inspiration, even though they represent a man who knows his art and is amply provided with technical proficiency, will be able to breathe forth that faith and piety which are called for by the majesty of the temple of God. Consequently, neither can they be admitted by the Church, the guardian and judge of the religious life.

[14] "As for the artist whose faith is firm and life worthy of a Christian, let him follow the impulse of his love of God and religiously make us of the gifts which God has given him; let him strive to express by the colors, lines, sounds, and chants those truths which he believes and the piety which he professes, and this in a manner so accurate and acceptable that this sacred exercise may be for him an act of religion, and for the people a powerful stimulus to faith and piety."

There is, therefore, a clear and irresolvable antithesis between the worldly musician and the church musician, an antithesis which does not stem from purely aesthetic or technical reasons, since both must resolve in a similar way their aesthetic and technical problems, according to the artistic means of expression which they possess.

The antithesis is, on the contrary, entirely in the inner source of their inspiration. In the worldly artist it comes from sentiments of a more or less noble nature, but which are always human and earthly (when they are not downright carnal or sensual, or when they do not stem, as the Encyclical makes to [sic] clear, from a blind instinct which we call the estro).

The church artist, on the other hand, acts under the drive of a supernatural element, charity, or, to use the expression of the Encyclical, the love of God, Who, while He inspires and fills the soul of the musician in his human acts and his creative activity, conferes [sic] on his musical work a character and force which, beyond results due to mere technical competence and ability within the art, is conveyed by a raising to God of the soul of the composer himself and those of the faithful who hear his music.

Thus it is that a church musician who knows how to respond fully to this ascetic and mystic vocation has already within himself what he needs to create true sacred art. He already knows what must be done, without need for many rules and odious prohibitions. His route he can find himself in the inner inspiration of his heart, which is enlightened and enflamed with the infinite beauty of the divine mysteries, and which translates it into music which becomes its faithful echo.

[15] The words of St. Augustine have, then, great value for the church musician: Ama et fac quod vis. For the musician, this is the only true principle, since real music is born of charity: Cantare amantis est, and serves to increase and intensify it.

Such is the true and full freedom of the Catholic artist and church musician. This is a liberty which he can and must use to attain, first, the latreutic end of the liturgy, and then, of sacred music (the honor due God, to which will be consecrated the best which musical art can produce), but also the soteriological end (the salvation of souls, dependent on certain special suggestions by which sacred music raises the soul of the one who prays to God).

In this way, the Encyclical, although it shows the principles which should guide Catholic art and artists, also shows, so to speak, in every line, the pastoral intentions which the Church understands to be linked to sacred music.

Nova and Vetera in the Encyclical

It is with a constant eye to these profound and fruitful truths that one may and should consider certain positions of the Encyclical, which have seemed to some misdirected readers to be dictated by a certain broad point of view, not to say laxity.

The Use of Instruments

One of the most important questions concerns the use of instruments, and in particular the violin, unjustly identified with romanticism, worldliness and even sensuality.

That these last-mentioned characteristics are obviously and clearly those of a certain amount of the violin repertoire, nobody can deny. This explains why, at the beginning of the century, in a climate of antiromantic reform, severe limitations were exercised regarding the use of this instrument.

[16] No one, however, can deny a composer of sacred music, if he fully observes the ideal, of course, which the Encyclical sets, the right to use this extremely effective instrument for the expression of various sentiments of the soul, with a view toward raising his soul to God and to similarly influence the souls of the faithful. Moreover, what we can say for the violin can also be said for the other stringed instruments.

Let one merely think of certain Bach arias, and those of Handel, to certain "Sonatas of the church" of the eighteenth century, all steeped in the most profound religious sentiment.

The danger of abuses does not lie only in the expressive power of these bowed instruments, but rather in the composer and in the performer who can apply them in a profane manner. It is, therefore, above themselves, in the very source where they find their inspiration that the attention must be focused, with a seeking after an interpretation consonant with the Catholic spirit of art and music.

What we have said for the bowed instruments holds true also for the other instruments which, either alone or with the organ, according to the Encyclical, can be used in sacred music. It seemed superfluous to the Sovereign Pontiff to give a list of those which are admitted and those which are forbidden, to decide whether they may be used merely as accompaniment for the choir, or alone, although we must understand that they are always to be used according to the conditions which are applied to the use of the organ. All these questions and other decisions or classifications of exterior character have no meaning for the church musician, since he, if he is a real church musician, will certainly know well enough himself when and how to use the means which musical art and technique, even the most modern, have placed at his disposition for the creation of true sacred art. In this regard I think of the Mass of E Minor of Anton Bruckner, written for choir and brass orchestra, which, in spite of the means employed, provides us with a real masterpiece of authentic religious art, which, according to some authorities, can be ranked with the Missa Papae Marcellae of Palestrina.

[17] On the other hand, a mere conformity to certain rules and prohibitions regarding instruments, including the organ, does not guarantee at all that religious inspiration will come, although it is this very inspiration which is vital for the creation of real sacred music. To this extent it is true, even in this field of endeavor, that Spiritus est qui vivificat; littera autem occidit.

Mixed Choirs

In the same way we find the question of mixed choirs discussed here. They are permitted by the Encyclical when the male scholae cantorum or choirs, or the Pueri Cantores are either totally lacking or weak in numbers. This concession is not new. It goes back to St. Pius X, who approved the generally equivalent decree of the Sacred Congregation of Rites in this matter, a decree which is now incorporated by the Encyclical.

We all know the regulations of liturgical, moral and aesthetic nature against the singing of women in church, and these prescriptions are still held valid by the Encyclical. In this light, mixed choirs are merely a substitute for the usual scholae cantorum and the Pueri Cantores, who are the only real liturgical choirs given an official function.

But between the elimination of all singing in church (and, consequently, of the solemn liturgy) due to a lack of male choirs or boys choirs, and the tolerance, with the precautions which are imposed, of the use of mixed choirs (which are considered as being the people or a segment of the congregation which fills in the lack of male singers), and also to maintain, in general, the living tradition of the singing in Church, the Sovereign Pontiff, following the footsteps of St. Pius X, has chosen this second solution, which, without involving a matter of principle, nevertheless resolves a practical problem of great importance, and thus saves, by guaranteeing singers, the general principle of the special force which music brings to bear on the divine services and on the piety of the faithful.

[18] In fact, the schola cantorum and the usual male choir, as a matter of principle, must always be given their traditional and glorious primacy in the liturgical and artistic domain, even though, alas, we must deplore not only the small number of male choirs, but also their decline of liturgical spirit and even of their artistic standards, both of which are the consequences of complex causes for the exposition of which there is no space here.

The decrease in these scholae and their decadence have providentially called forth the vast movement of Pueri Cantores who, by themselves or with a few men's voices, maintain intact the role of the cantor, holder of a real liturgical rank, and on the artistic side, they can attain a standard of excellence similar to that of the schola or male choir.

Yet, wherever circumstances do not provide these means, mixed choirs, well-trained and capably directed, can substitute for the liturgical choir and attain, on the artistic plane, very fine results.

The Burning Question of Liturgical Language

A similar approach is made to the subject of the liturgical language. Nearly everybody has followed the well-known arguments which, particularly in recent years, have been given prominence in this respect in books, articles, speeches and the like.

On one hand the need (which there can be no question of challenging) for the unity and the universality of the liturgy requires a unity and universality of language, that of the tradition. On the other hand, the pastoral concern to enable the faithful to live the reality of the divine mysteries, not only in referring themselves implicitly to the intentions of the celebrant, but also in participating in the liturgy individually and explicitly taking the proper role, this concern, we say, has brought about a keen awareness of the need for a liturgical language accessible to the faithful and not merely to the celebrant.

[19] On these two aspects of the question much has been written and said, sometimes with a passionate partisanship which approaches fanaticism.

The Encyclical, with a characteristically Roman clarity and serenity, has gathered and blended the two opposing points of view in a beautifully balanced way, a way which suffices, or should suffice, to calm the apprehensiveness of the partisans of both camps.

All taken into account, the Encyclical maintains the principle of unity and universality of the liturgical language. Then, while tolerating contrary practices which were born of historical circumstances which were special to certain locations, or under special conditions, at least in those cases where these contrary practices could not be prudently eleminated [sic], the Encyclical opposes at the same time that such customs be introduced in new areas. Moreover, in the very areas where these contrary practices are tolerated the Ordinaries of the dioceses are exhorted to promote the use of Gregorian chant, indissolubly linked to the use of Latin, among the faithful, in order that they "learn from infancy at least the easier Gregorian melodies and those most used, and know how to use them in the liturgical ceremonies, so that in this way, too, the unity and universality of the Church may ever be more greatly manifested."

The conclusion of all this is that the principle of using Latin as the liturgical language is clearly affirmed, and that the integral putting into practice of this principle is demanded, even in those places where, for special reasons, it has previously been de-emphasized.

And it is very right that this should be so from the standpoint of principle, for without entering into the many reasons of opportunity or convenience, who, then, is it who performs the holy liturgy, to use the terms of the Encyclical Mediator Dei, if not the sacred Hierarchy, whose own language is rightfully that of the Church, namely Latin?

[20] On the other hand, full satisfaction is granted to pastoral concerns regarding the active participation of the faithful in the holy mysteries. The faithful can today be better trained than in the past, and can be instructed by liturgical catechetics, oral as well as written. This is what the Encyclical explains so well, drawing upon the teaching of the Fathers of the Council of Trent, who had to resolve in their day, under conditions much more difficult than those of today, the problem of the unity of liturgical language and that of the participation of the faithful in the holy liturgy.

Popular Hymnody

Where, on the other hand, the Encyclical has left to the people, and thus to the vernacular tongue, which is properly that of the people, a wide field of action is in popular hymnody, on which the Sovereign Pontiff spends a certain length of time, and at more than one insistence, with an urgency and particular care, an indication of the fine and unerring pastoral awareness of Pius XII.

He had already touched upon this subject in the Encyclical Mediator, which, it should be said for history, was the first instance of such treatment in a pontifical document, and what is more, in an Encyclical.

But in the Encyclical Musicae Sacrae Disciplina we find a real treatise on popular hymnody, religious and sacred, for all geographical areas.

Religious Music

No one will be surprised to find that religious music of a sort not designed for the liturgy should have merited a discussion in a solemn pontifical document. It is a matter of a mere mention, to tell the truth, but yet it suffices to define this kind of music which, in parallel to sacred music, can exercise a great and beneficial influence over the souls of the faithful. This is the very pastoral concern of which we have just spoken.

[21] Yet the Encyclical has thus determined the principle upon which can then be based the entire task of regulation. This is an indication of a remarkable comprehension toward the composer, who today is turning with more and more fervor to this kind of music. It is also a comprehension toward the people, who understand with increasing sympathy these compositions of religious nature. It is manifested by this opening of a path to more fruitful accomplishments in this domain, not merely, and perhaps not so much in the artistic sense as in the spiritual sense, and, we repeat, the pastoral sense. This is certainly the main aspect under which the Encyclical mentions religious music, "which although it is not designed principally for the service of the holy liturgy, nevertheless conveys many desirable features to religion through its content and its aims."

The Encyclical in its Historical Aspects

More complex and delicate (and in certain ways, perhaps even premature), is the examination of the Encyclical in its historical aspects.

No doubt in relationship with the tradition of the recent past, the new Pontifical document marks a decisive development in the interest which the Holy See has taken in music in general, and especially in contemporary music.

We not mean to imply that the new Encyclical constitutes an antithesis of the Motu Proprio (which, of course, it reaffirms as the document which St. Pius X has justly called the "juridical code of sacred music"); nor do we imply that it represents a revolution in the secular tradition of the Church in this matter, synthesized by the "norms wisely established by St. Pius X", which are the very terms of the Encyclical. But Pius XII, with the intention of confirming and inculcating these norms still further, proposes to give them also "a new light, to corroborate them by new reasonings," and this is where we find a new accent in pontifical teaching,—"in order that this very noble art of sacred music, conforming to new requirements and enriched in a certain [22] manner, may continually respond more fully to its purpose." From this we can see clearly enough that where the Motu Proprio, in order to accomplish a reform of sacred music, which at that time was deeply contaminated by theatrical music, may have seemed reactionary to some persons (particularly in the severity of criteria which some of its interpreters thought wise to adopt and in the polemic virulence of certain reformers), the Encyclical Musicae sacrae, beginning with the results achieved in fifty years of reform under the aegis of St. Pius X and his famous document on sacred music, can today give directives inspired by a broader and more realistic perspective, provided the legislator by the absence or near absence of any danger of misemphasis.

Naturally this greater serenity and tranquility is completely to the advantage of sacred art and the artist, who today feels really free of any exterior constraints and any odious prohibitions or restrictions, free to follow only the suggestions of his inner inspiration, enlightened and strengthened by Caritas.

And it is in this full freedom of the Catholic artist that we find the first and inexhaustible source of the renewal of sacred music as an art, fifty years after the reform of St. Pius X, which, although it had the unquestionable value of restoring to the music which was to be performed in church its original sacred character, did not, with few exceptions build and expand upon the glorious musical tradition of the Catholic Church according to the splendid example of classic polyphony.

It is a fact which we can deplore as much as we like, but which we cannot deny, that the great lay musicians of our day take little real interest in liturgical music as exemplified during the last fifty years. They show it only indifference except when they are openly hostile to a certain kind of music which passes for liturgical art although it is not at all artistic, even though artistic value is one of the essential qualities of the liturgy, and in that sense, of sacred music. Except for the works of certain composers, who, moreover, have made their best and most abundant contribution in the [23] domain of general religious music rather than in that of sacred music, liturgical music or extra-liturgical music, except for these, we say, all the rest, generally speaking, although they are not lacking in quantity, certainly do not shine in the power of their inspiration, the newness or freshness of their language or the strength of their construction.

thus two currents can be perceived which, besides being divergent in their means and their aims, are also composed of elements which are completely different from each other in both quantity and quality.

One of these currents is formed by a legion of persons, mostly clergy and religious, motivated by the highest intentions and desirous of creating sacred music, but almost always without artistic talent or technical preparation, or lazily wallowing in the quagmires of hackneyed styles.

The other current is formed of a small number of great lay musicians who have achieved honor and continue to do so both here and abroad, but who have turned their backs on church music.

Some people have thought it logical to blame this state of affairs, which is a sign of decadence, on the Motu Proprio of St. Pius X, since in that famous document modern music was viewed with a manifest spirit of opposition. Was it not, they said, unavoidable from that standpoint that the great musicians of the day would feel rejected from the Church and left only to the more worldly fields of action?

In reality the very opposite has been the case. It was the great musicians of the nineteenth and twentieth centuries who, drawn by the seduction of romantic opera, brought into even the music of the Church the spirit and forms of the theater. It was, then, entirely natural that the Church should react against this serious contamination of a basically moral, but also artistic nature. This is particularly true, since all kinds of music require their proper forms, just as every person, according to the idea or feeling that he senses, requires a facial expression in accord with it, a demeanor and gestures proper to him, and a personal way of dressing.

[24] In truth, in his Motu Proprio St. Pius X, as we have already said, reasserts, in regard to modern sacred music, the constant principle by which "the Church has always recognized and favored progress in the arts, admitting to the service of the cult everything that the genius of man has been able to create as good and beautiful over the course of centuries, under the condition that the liturgical laws be respected. [sic] "Consequently" he continued, "the most recent modern music is also admitted to the church, for it, too, provides compositions whose value, soberness and gravity make them worthy in every respect of the liturgical functions." This recognition seems to have been addressed to German sacred music of the time rather than to Italian music, which, in contrast was the object of the following serious admonition: "Nevertheless, because of the worldly use for which modern music is principally intended, we must take the most extreme care in selecting musical compositions in modern style; only those which contain no profane utterance, include no reminiscence or motifs common to the theater, and which in no way convey, even in their exterior forms, the general cast of worldly pieces, may be admitted to the churches."

Without wishing to establish the respective responsibilities, we must recognize that the chasm opened between the ordinary musicians and the people of the Church by the Motu Proprio of St. Pius X is not only still unspanned, but it is continually growing wider.

To fill this gap and eliminate it seems to me to be the first and essential objective of the Encyclical Musicae sacrae disciplina.

No compromise, of course, can be made between the liturgy and profane art, and consequently, musicians who have the intention of writing for the church and who truly wish to create sacred art cannot continue, obviously, to treat the paths of worldly music in general, and of operatic music in particular, but should instead turn to the liturgy and draw inspiration from it, since it is the inexhaustible source, always rich and varied.

[25] Fortunately, the direction of the present evolution of music and the trends it seems to be taking are favorable to this change of direction. The operatic style which dominated almost exclusively the nineteenth and the beginning of the twentieth century, drawing to it with an irresistible force of fascination great musicians of that epoch, is today in decline. For the romantic and naturalistic aesthetic has been substituted a kind of antiromanticism. Constructional strength has taken the place of melodic languor and impressionistic color. Harmony has become polytonal, atonal and dodecaphonic. A profound change marks today's music. Moreover, although we have not, any more than at any other evolutionary phase in the history of art, arrived at definitive results, at works of art which are of universal and positive value, it is nevertheless certain that contemporary musicians do not dwell on the past, do not glance behind them, and in no way do they hesitate to advance from the old styles more and more rapidly and deliberately. The curtain has fallen with finality on the day of theater music camouflaged as sacred music, except for a few church composers . . . we do not call them musicians . . . who think they can create something new by re-issuing the old lyrico-sacred compositional formulas, long sine rejected by the musical world in general.

Is it, then, possible in this climate of change to fill in and eliminate the deplorable gap which separated artists from the liturgy? The affirmative answer is given by Pius XII, who wrote even in the Encyclical Mediator Dei these clear words which seem to me to be directly addressed to those who, in the name of a blind loyalty to Gregorian and Palestrinian tradition had ostracized contemporary sacred music: "One cannot, however, maintain," warned the Pontiff, "that modern music and singing should be totally excluded from Catholic worship. On the contrary, provided that such music contains nothing profane or improper, in consideration of the sanctity of the place and the sacred services, and provided that it does not seek after bizarre or uncalled-for effects, it is indispensable that we give it entree to our churches for it can greatly contribute to the magnificence of the cere-ceremonies [sic] as well as to the raising of souls to a true devotion and piety."

[26] The presupposed and indispensable psychological condition for the creation of discussion, first, then a unity and collaboration between musicians and churchmen is, for the latter group, based on a disposition tending to break down the instinctive attachment to a tradition which is bound together with a deeply-rooted rejection of everything new; it is also in a disposition to take a sincere interest in and seeking to understand the new forms and new vocabulary of the musicians today, to have confidence in them, to accept their works with a warm sympathy and heartfelt humility, for it is not easy to assimilate and evaluate a new mode of expression in sacred music at first hearing, or even after a few hearings.

Simply put, we must persuade ourselves of the fact that art is made by artists. What seems at first glance to be a simple truth is in reality not so easy to grasp, for there are many people who think they can solve the problem of sacred music without the effort of a real artist-musician. These people, however, must bring into their music the required mental and spiritual dispositions, if they wish to create sincere sacred music, without bringing in new contaminations which would be as detrimental to the liturgy as to art.

The situation in religious music (designed for concert rather than church) is and has been less critical. Consequently it is less difficult to achieve a meeting of minds on this subject and to bring about the desired entente between musicians and churchmen.

But there is a danger which must be seen and guarded against from both sides: that musicians give preference to religious music and neglect sacred music, liturgical music and extra-liturgical music (we mean, of course, by "religious music", that music not designed for church use, but based on religious texts, themes or concepts). There is a strong temptation for the musician, since he enjoys a greater liberty of expressions, means and themes in non-liturgical religious music. He obtains greater moral and material rewards, totally incomparable to those he draws, at least under present conditions, from music designed for the liturgy or extra-liturgical [27] services. On the other hand, the churchman has a deep responsibility, because he, through lack of understanding of the artistic and material requirements of the musician, places him in a position where he must neglect liturgical and extra-liturgical music and devote himself exclusively, or nearly so, to non-liturgical religious music.

To maintain a suitable balance between sacred music and religious music is, above all, a question for the profound and fecund vision of both composers and the Church. It is obvious that in addition to the central problem of the unification and collaboration of the great musicians of our day and the churchmen, other problems exist, some large, some small, some theoretical, some practical, which await a similar discussion and at least a gradual resolution.

To note only a few of the more urgent of these, let us mention the economic conditions of composers, choirmasters and organists; the problem of the reconstitution of Scholae cantorum, choirs and choral groups; that a more deserving freedom in the use of vocal and instrumental means proper to contemporary art in sacred music; that of performance, even in church . . . of course, without improper aspects and with the necessary precautions . . . of non-liturgical religious music. There are as many unresolved problems as those already covered in the Encyclical Musicae sacrae.

The important thing is that the Church become once more, as she was in the past, the great sponsor and noble propagator of art in general, and music in particular, since it is in the church, the House of God, but also our own house, that the people, without distinction of class or background, or any other distinctions, in other words, all the people can be trained day after day by the slow but effective action of that great master of truth, beauty and goodness, Art.

Let us return to the Motu Proprio of St. Pius X. In much the same way that writing emphasized the first quality of sacred music, i.e., sanctity, today the Encyclical Musicae sacrae of Pius XII emphasizes the second quality of sacred music, which is its artistic value . . . not neglecting the first [28] quality, of course, but in demanding not only an objective value in the music itself, but also and particularly a subjective value for the church musician.

Then, since, as St. Pius X affirms and Pius XII confirms, the third quality of sacred music, namely universality, proceeds naturally from the sanctity and artistic value of the form, if the contemporary artists know how to grasp and put into practice the message of the recent Encyclical, sacred music will become, for the Catholic Church, a splendid apologia for our faith, similar to the manifestation produced in the middle ages with Gregorian Chant, and in the Renaissance with vocal polyphony, organ music and instrumental music.

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Footnotes:

1. Motu Proprio of St. Pius X, November 22, 1903.

2. Encyclical Musicae Sacrae

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Source: Msgr. Fiorenzo Romita, "The Encyclical Musicae Sacrae Disciplina," The Gregorian Review 4, no. 4 (July-August 1957): 8–28.

Tuesday, April 30, 2019

Warning of Eugenio Cardinal Pacelli (Pope Pius XII) at Notre Dame de Paris (1937)

Be vigilant! Yes, there are many who, like the apostles in Gethsemane the moment their Master was about to be arrested, seem to fall asleep in their blind unconsciousness, convinced that the threat hanging upon the world does not affect them, that they bear no responsibility and run no risk in the crisis in which the universe struggles in anguish. … How many remain deaf and inert to Christ’s warning to his own Apostles: Vigilate et orate ut non intretis in tentationem! … Be vigilant!

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Source: Luiz Sérgio Solimeo, "ISIS and a Jesuit Priest Rejoice as Notre Dame Burns," The American TFP, April 23, 2019, https://www.tfp.org/isis-and-a-jesuit-priest-rejoice-as-notre-dame-burns/.

Tuesday, January 28, 2014

Fr. Jordan Aumann on Sanctification Through Action

A [...] source of confusion possible is the identification of 'life' with 'action'. The second in ordinary speech almost invariably means transitive action. The first, in turn, suggests vital operations, understood generally as external actions, even if the scholastic definition of life does insist that it is immanent activity. From such usage arise such expressions as 'formation through action' or the 'spirituality of action'. Should 'action' here be understood as exterior activity sufficient to itself as a form of 'life', without an interior source, then we have the 'heresy of action', referred to by Pope Pius XII (Letter to the Superior General of the Jesuits, June 16, 1944; cf. Documentation Catholique XIII, p. 7). Taken in this way, these expressions would even be inaccurate philosophically; external action receives a properly human value from interiority, from the immanent operations of life. On a truly human level the active life can never mean merely the execution of external activity, but necessarily involves the acts of mind and will, immanent activities. [...]

The phrase 'sanctification through action' is apt if certain qualifications are kept in mind. The first, that it be understood in the context of an accurate concept of the virtue of charity. In recent times there has been a tendency to exaggerate the love of neighbour [sic] to the point of an erroneous theology. This is a logical sequel to the identification of life with action, action with transitive action and charity with transitive action. Some have gone so far as to prefer to call charity by the name 'service'. This is to ignore the truth: charity's specifying objective is God himself, it is a theological virtue uniting us to God's lovable goodness in our love of him, self and neighbour.

As a result the 'disinterestedness' of charity is confused. Not all disinterested love of others is charity. Nor is the disinterestedness of charity itself such that it excludes love for God from love of neighbour. The contrary is, of course, true. It is love of God that makes love of neighbour charity at all. Any other concept of love of neighbour would reduce the apostolate to a level of mere philanthropy or social work, and have serious consequences upon the theology of the spiritual life.

The command of charity is that a man must love God with all his heart and soul and strength and his neighbour as himself (Luke 10, 27). Charity's objectives are, then, God, self, neighbour. This is why in repeated papal teaching there has been insistence upon apostolic works being performed with personal sanctification as preparation and source. It is not external activities themselves that sanctify a person, but the intensity of love for God with which they are done. The measure of holiness always remains the intensity of charity. And charity itself is intensified in the sense of being more deeply rooted in the person's will; this comes about through its own immanent activity. An intensification of charity's own immanent activity is not opposed to the work of the active life. Rather it is the indispensable prerequisite. In fact there can only be a true intensification of the love of neighbour, thus of a true apostolate, where there is an intensification of the love of God. The love of God is the motive for the love of neighbour.

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Source: Fr. Jordan Aumann, "Appendix 6: Action and the Interior Life," in Summa Theologiæ: Volume 46: Action and Contemplation, trans. by Jordan Aumann (Cambridge: Blackfriars, 1966), 117-119.