Can you imagine having an entire orchestra at your fingertips? For Breton Abbondanzio, Director of Sacred Music and music teacher at St. Mary’s Catholic Church and School in Hagerstown, MD, that is just a regular Sunday. For almost 27 years, Abbondanzio has been accompanying, composing, and directing sacred music ministries, using his musical gifts to glorify God— a tradition dating back to the early Medieval period.
It is said that the earliest documented church music, “Gregorian chant,” was developed by Pope Saint Gregory I, or Gregory the Great as he is colloquially known, who served as pope from 590 to 604. The legend goes that he enlisted a scribe to write down the music as he dictated it, instructing the scribe to remain seated behind a screen and never look around it. However, the scribe soon became confused, and in a moment of curiosity, peeked beyond the screen, where he discovered a dove emblematic of the Holy Spirit whispering into the ear of St. Gregory. This legend is where we get the phrase “A little bird told me.” It was passed along orally and eventually put into artwork, spreading the news that the music being shared across Europe had been divinely inspired.
This legend, or more appropriately propaganda, was proven to be untrue, as at that time there was no unified way to write or understand written music. Until this point, the Holy Roman Emperor Charlemagne had been sending cantors from Rome to the churches of northern and central Europe to teach them the Roman style of chanting. Knowing the word of man was not enough to convince the people to abandon their regional plainchant, Charlemagne invoked the power of the divine. Thus, St. Gregory was not, in fact, the inventor of “Gregorian chant” (though it is named after him), but instead a noted reformer of the liturgy.
But why would the Church make such an effort to reform and unify the music in its liturgies? As Abbondanzio explained, “Excellent, reverently executed music can elevate a liturgy and lift the mind and soul to heaven in the same way as incense or the rising spires of a high altar.”
The irrefutable figurehead of sacred music, and a most effective instrument in this elevation of mind and soul, is the organ. A magnificent invention of pipes, keys, buttons, and moving air, a pipe organ can produce sound enough to fill even the greatest cathedrals. Even as a young pianist listening to CDs of organ music at home, Abbondanzio was drawn to the beauty of the instrument.
The United States Conference of Catholic Bishops document Sing to the Lord: Music in Divine Worship states that “…the manifold possibilities of the organ in some way remind us of the immensity and the magnificence of God.” Organ music, and the musical choices of organists like Abbondanzio, effectively lead the congregation through the parts of the liturgy. Abbondanzio’s musical choices are guided by the readings for each particular Mass, and any organ musical pre- or postludes are improvised upon a hymn or chant from the Mass. Postludes specifically are played in the French Sortie style, lively compositions often featuring rapid motion, dramatic pedal work, and layered improvisation. This “exit music” is intended to build upon the concluding rites of the Mass and send the congregation out to love God and one another with joy. In this way, sacred music should always be in support of the Mass, never of greater importance.
Music as a performing art invites the audience to listen and to engage in the story through their thoughts and emotions, but music as a sacred art is intended to include the “audience” (the congregation), for the people to sing along and respond to the words of Christ being presented through song. A quote often attributed to St. Augustine says, “He who sings well prays twice.” Singing at Mass shows others you believe what is being said (or in this case, sung) and you want to share that with your neighbors, your brothers and sisters in Christ.
This very thought is why sacred music had such a rocky start in its earliest days. Thanks to the Roman cantors, plainchant had become increasingly more elaborate, as they incorporated long, drawn-out melismas over syllabic chanting. Even after the actions of Charlemagne and St. Gregory and the integration of a standardized chant, the untrained congregation still found it difficult to follow and participate. The same can be said for the faithful in today’s congregations. As Abbondanzio emphasizes: “Simple chants and hymns promote more vigorous singing in my experience. When we ask the congregation to sing complex songs that even trained musicians have to study beforehand, they are more likely to not pick up a hymnal.”
The important thing for musicians to keep in mind is their dispensation and the intent behind the music. Through their formation within the church, music ministers like Abbondanzio are trained in the art and purpose of sacred music. Learning to perform without “performing” is a unique challenge, one that Abbondanzio takes on with humility and an openness to share with those who may not appreciate it.
“The most important thing is for musicians to dialogue with people who don’t understand,” he explains. “That’s part of the ‘pastoral’ component of being a music minister.”
As we enter the season of Lent, the themes of fasting and preparation can be heard in our music ministry as much as it is seen in the Mass. Certain words and phrases are neither spoken nor sung for the entirety of the 40 days; hymns are sung only at the most essential moments; certain moments in the Mass are intentionally left silent. You may notice Mass settings changing or taking on a more penitential feel. Lent shifts not only the liturgical calendar, but also our hearts and minds towards quiet reflection and reconnection with God. While we may long for the missing words and spirit of rejoicing and praise, this intentional simplicity makes our eventual arrival at Easter Sunday all the more joyful.
