Praying and Singing During a Church Crisis

In light of the release of the report of the Pennsylvania grand jury, Fritz Bauerschmidt has given attention to the difficulty of preaching on sexual abuse.  At my Pennsylvania parish this weekend, the homilist drew upon statements issued by the president of the USCCB, by the local ordinary, and by Cardinal O’Malley of Boston.  The homilist expressed his own sense of sorrow and shame.

However, the prayer of the faithful made no reference at all to those abused, those who abused, or those who concealed the abuse.  Musically, one might argue that the opening song (Bernadette Farrell’s “Christ Be Our Light”) and the closing song (Michael Joncas’ “On Eagle’s Wings”) expressed a sense of longing for guidance and of trust in God but speaking for myself, I was hoping for something stronger, with a clearer sense of lament and frustration.  I was / am unable to come up with specific suggestions, however.

I am wondering how the worship in your assemblies addressed or did not address this week’s news about abuse in Pennsylvania apart from whatever was said or not said in the homily.

 

Timothy Brunk

Dr. Timothy Brunk is Associate Professor of Liturgical and Sacramental Theology in the Department of Theology and Religious Studies at Villanova University.  He holds a doctorate from Marquette University, a Master of Arts degree in pastoral studies from Seattle University, a Master of Arts in theology from Boston College, and a Bachelor’s degree from Amherst College.  He is the author of fifteen journal articles and two books, including The Sacraments and Consumer Culture (Liturgical Press, 2020), which the Catholic Media Association recognized at its annual meeting as the first-place winner in the category of books on the sacraments.

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30 responses to “Praying and Singing During a Church Crisis”

  1. Doug O'Neill

    I question that the Mass should address these issues, outside the homily (and even that should be primarily focused on the Gospel) and possibly the Intercessions. The beauty of the Mass is timeless; its permanence can grant comfort. The proper Offertory today was Psalm 34: 8,9 – “The angel of the Lord will encamp around those who fear him, and he shall rescue them. Taste and see that the Lord is good.” Who could not find solace in that? We also got reminders that the Eucharist is the center of the Christian faith. That is something immutable that no corrupt bishop could ever affect.

    Reply
  2. Robert Donlan

    In my parish the pastor placed a copy of the entire Penn. report on the altar, all 900 pages, as
    he began the homily. He expressed his sorrow and shame as he shared his reactions over the two
    days it took him to read the entire report which he had the parish secretary print from the internet.
    He shared a letter from the bishop as well as the statement from the USCCB. He hoped that
    the four recommendations of the Penn. report be approved by the USCCB. He then asked that
    the closing hymn be replaced by soft music while he would remain in the church to be available to
    talk with anyone who wanted to discuss his homily. His remarks drew scattered applause.

    Reply
    1. Paul Inwood

      My downloaded copy of the Penn report runs to 1356 pages rather than 900 (and makes for horrendous reading). That, plus this: https://www.catholicnewsagency.com/news/new-allegations-surface-regarding-archbishop-mccarrick-and-newark-priests-50523 has left the Church bleeding.

      I don’t agree with Doug that the Mass is not the place to acknowledge this. For too long we have papered over the cracks at Sunday liturgies. To pretend that nothing has happened is disrespectful to the pain we are all experiencing. If we don’t ritualize our concerns, we risk not only making our liturgies irrelevant but turning our back on the possibility of beginning the healing process that is required. Given that most people’s connection with church is the Sunday Eucharist, that is surely the place to start. As many have said online, silence is not an option. Indeed, silence is precisely what has led us to this situation.

      For my money, the best response from a bishop so far has been this one: http://www.camdendiocese.org/letter-from-bishop-sullivan-to-the-people-of-the-diocese-of-camden-regarding-the-release-of-the-pennsylvania-grand-jury-report/

      Reply
      1. Doug O'Neill

        My point was that the liturgy as naturally designed, with the readings and propers, is highly relevant. Sometimes we as musical planners delude ourselves into thinking we can do better. It’s not pretending that nothing has happened. Absolutely, the homily can and perhaps should address it. But people want to see action, not talk.

    2. Doug O'Neill

      He placed a copy of the report on the altar? I guess he hasn’t read GIRM 306. Was that supposed to be symbolic? Also, is it unusual for him to discuss homilies with people after Mass?

      Reply
  3. Fritz Bauerschmidt

    Our opening song was Sing of the Lord’s Goodness and our pastor referenced the words “Courage in our darkness,/ comfort in our sorrow,/ Spirit of our God most high” in his opening remarks. He also made the PA grand jury report the focus of his very moving homily.

    Reply
    1. Alan Johnson

      An Ernie Sands song.
      Maybe not the most appropriate choice.

      Reply
      1. Fritz Bauerschmidt

        You may have information on Mr. Sands to which I am not privy.

      2. Fritz Bauerschmidt

        Nevermind. Google is your “friend.”

  4. Martyn Storey

    In my London parish, our priest gave his homily on the scripture readings. But in the prayer of the faithful, we explicitly remembered those who have suffered abuse especially when the church has been involved. We also prayed for the English Benedictine Congregation who were recently criticised by the UK’s Independent Inquiry into Child Sexual Abuse for the treatment of pupils over decades and a “culture of acceptance of abusive behaviour”.

    Reply
  5. Paul Inwood

    Alec Harris posted this John Bell text on Facebook, with a generous permission:

    We sing for those whose song is silent,
    whose hidden hurt no tune could bear
    — children whose innocence of loving
    has long since gone beyond repair.
    God, who conceived and gave us birth,
    listen for those who’ve lost their worth.

    We sing for those whose lives were mangled
    when friendship turned to vile abuse,
    as those they trusted traded kindness
    for cruelty beyond excuse.
    God, in whose image all were made,
    feel for the ones who’ve been betrayed.

    We sing for those who bear within them
    scars in the body, mind, and soul,
    fears from the past and, for tomorrow,
    yearnings that they might yet be whole.
    God, who in Christ was touched by pain,
    make your hurt children whole again.

    We pray for those who know temptation
    worse than our earnest words can tell,
    who covet pow’r, who lie in waiting
    with evil lusts designed in hell.
    Jesus, through whom the world is saved,
    conquer the sin, heal the depraved.

    We sing that through believing people
    lives may be hallowed and made good,
    and ask that God in ev’ry victim
    shall see faith, hope, and love renewed.
    This is our prayer, this is our song
    to God, to whom we all belong.

    © 2017, WGRG, c/o Iona Community, GIA Publications, Inc., agent. Permission for use granted gratis through November 1, 2018

    I suggest the tune Neumark (Shepherd of souls, in love, come feed us) would work well with this.

    Reply
    1. Doug O'Neill

      It’s a nice text, but in this case, their song was not silent and their hurt not hidden. They were quite vocal about it, but ignored and suppressed. Singing about how we care about people does little; it only serves to make US feel better about ourselves. The scandal here is that the hierarchy failed in their duty to be shepherds of their flock. Maybe we should sing about that. Albert Bayly’s “What Does the Lord Require?” might do the trick.

      Reply
      1. Paul Inwood

        I think that’s a bit of a sweeping statement, Doug. The fact is that many of them were wrapped in silence, often felt that they themselves were somehow the guilty ones, hid their hurt deep inside themselves — so deep that they were not able to talk about what happened to them for as long as 30 or 40 years afterwards. They certainly didn’t and don’t feel like singing;and we can certainly sing on their behalf and show, through the language we use, that we do care about them, and care deeply.

        Not only that, but there are many people in our midst, as yet unrecognized and unknown to us, who still can’t bring themselves to talk about what happened to them. Some of them may be reading this thread. We have not seen the end of this by a long way. Knowing that we are thinking about these things in our sung prayer may help them to unlock the door through which, we hope, they will eventually find some sort of healing, even if no true peace can perhaps ever be theirs.

    2. Karl Liam Saur

      For folks unfamiliar with NEUMARK, it’s a 17th century tune. See here:

      https://hymnary.org/page/fetch/HTLG2017/258/low

      If memory serves, it’s one of the tunes sung in the movie, “Babette’s Feast”.

      Reply
      1. Karl Liam Saur

        Ah, haunted memory confirmed: from the 0:45 mark in this clip (I think this moment in the film is seared into my aural memory from the time the movie was released):

        https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9YMm23vUo3U

  6. Sean Connolly

    Between the porch and the altar
    let the priests weep,
    let the ministers of the LORD weep and say:
    “Spare your people, LORD!
    do not let your heritage become a disgrace,
    a byword among the nations!
    Why should they say among the peoples,
    ‘Where is their God?’”

    Reply
  7. Timothy Brunk Avatar
    Timothy Brunk

    The John Bell song mentioned by Paul Inwood above is one of a number of GIA songs for which GIA is granting permission to use for free through 1 November 2018. The complete list is available here

    Reply
  8. Adam Booth, C.S.C.

    We had the pastor (not me) preach all Masses, and preach out of this situation. The homily was followed by a prayer all said together for all survivors of sexual abuse, on prayer cards the congregation could take home with them. The prayers of the faithful raised up similar intentions. In the Mass I presided at, I also acknowledged in my introduction to Mass the disgust, anger and sadness many of us were bringing to Mass due to this report. After the Prayer after communion, I reiterated a point our pastor had already made about disclosing and reporting all sexual violence, adding that no-one has the right to demand anything of a survivor, but disclosing and reporting is a holy act, and that I pray they will be believed and justice will be done.

    It was a hard Mass to say, harder than I thought it would be to be honest, about as hard as the harder-than-average funerals. I didn’t try to hide the emotion behind that.

    Reply
  9. Rita Ferrone

    I wonder whether anyone sang Shirley Erena Murray’s “For Everyone Born, A Place at the Table.” Powerful, eschatological vision. Maybe too soon to pray this. But even without the verse “just and unjust / abuser, abused” it summons us to be “creators of justice” and this is the place I think we need to go, or perhaps the hope we need to find, somehow.

    Reply
    1. John Kohanski

      Are WE “the creators of justice and joy, compassion and peace?” Sorry, I can’t see that this is a prayer–it’s too self-congratulating to the congregation that would be singing it to themselves.

      Reply
      1. Geoffrey Madden

        Shirley Erena Murray’s texts are always challenging.
        Maybe it would be self congratulation if it had been achieved. As I see it we are convicted because of the lack of justice, joy, compassion and peace, and singing that as an assembly brings that challenge home.
        I wonder if she had Matt 22:10 in mind when she included abuser/abused, but I agree it is a hard verse to sing.
        Another difficult but perhaps apposite hymn is Michael Herry’s “A Hymn of Healing for the Church.”
        http://www.maristmusic.org.au/new-albuma-hymn-of-healing-for-the-church/

        The damning Royal Commission here in Australia has given many wronged people a voice and maybe some justice. The sense of crisis in the Church here shows no sign of abating.

      2. Rita Ferrone

        Thank you, Geoffrey. You expressed better than I did the element of being “convicted” of the lack of justice, compassion, and joy — something I experienced in that hymn while it was awakening a desire to be part of that dawning day, rather than a self-congratulations for having achieved it. You are right that we are still on the way, and I agree, this is a hard verse to sing. The writer acknowledged it herself, and this is widely agreed.

        Thanks too for the words of the Michael Henry’s hymn, which I had not seen before.

    2. Fritz Bauerschmidt

      I don’t think I could ever ask anyone to sing “abused and abuser/ a place at the table.” Would we sing “rapist and victim / a place at the table”? And even speaking eschatologically “just and unjust / a place at the table” is simply a lie; if Jesus and the prophets are right, the unjust do not inherit the kingdom of God. Plus, what John said about God delighting when we are creators of justice and joy. I honestly think the words are so theologically and pastorally problematic that the song should never be sung.

      Reply
      1. Rita Ferrone

        OK, I’ll give you and John the point on “creators” of justice and joy.

        But you don’t hold out hope for the salvation of sinners? I mean in an eschatological sense. When Jesus asked his Father to forgive his tormentors from the cross, do you think he didn’t, in the hereafter, “sit at table” with them? I don’t ask this flippantly. It really does seem to me to be part of Christianity to envision a final reconciliation, and to strive for it.

      2. Karl Liam Saur

        I wonder if “just and unjust” phrase is trying to work as a verbally condensed symbol for a supernatural thing, and but in the context of the other binaries it doesn’t work because there’s a way lot more involved uniting that particular binary under the Paschal Mystery. (It’s not even the hand of Christ pulling Adam and Eve et al. from the abode of the dead in icons of the Anastasis.)

        I doubt there’s a way to lyricise the most resonant eschatological image I know from modern American literature: the ending of Flannery O’Connor’s short story, “Revelation”, but I love how it captures theosis as burning away even the virtues of we who conceive of ourselves as just (but not necessarily justified):

        “Until the sun slipped finally behind the tree line, Mrs. Turpin remained there with her gaze bent to them as if she were absorbing some abysmal life-giving knowledge. At last she lifted her head. There was only a purple streak in the sky, cutting through a field of crimson and leading, like an extension of the highway, into the descending dusk. She raised her hands from the side of the pen in a gesture hieratic and profound.
        A visionary light settled in her eyes. She saw the streak as a vast swinging bridge extending upward from the earth through a
        field of living fire. Upon it a vast horde of souls were tumbling toward heaven. There were whole companies of white trash, clean for the first time in their lives, and bands of black n*****s in white robes, and battalions of freaks and lunatics shouting and clapping and leaping like frogs. And bringing up the end of the procession was a tribe of people whom she recognized at once as those who , like herself and Claud, had always had a little of everything and the given wit to use it right. She leaned forward to observe them closer. They were marching behind the others with great dignity, accountable as they had always been for good order and common sense and respectable behavior. They, alone were on key. Yet she could see by their shocked and altered faces even their virtues were being burned away. She lowered hands and gripped the rail of the hog pen, her eyes small but fixed unblinkingly on what lay ahead. In a moment the vision faded but she remained where she was.
        At length she got down and turned off the faucet and in her slow way on the darkening path to the house. In woods around her the invisible cricket choruses had struck up, but what she heard were the voices of the souls climbing upward into the starry field and shouting hallelujah.”

      3. Fritz Bauerschmidt

        Rita,
        Perhaps I’m being too polemical—or too nit-picky—or maybe both at once (I contain multitudes)—but it seems to me that the only way that the unjust can inherit the kingdom of God is by becoming just. So I don’t think that even eschatologically the unjust have a place at the table, but only those who have been made just by the grace of Christ. I suppose if one held to a Lutheran simul justus et peccator view of grace it might make sense (though only if you somehow specified that “just” and “unjust” referred to the same individual), but not on the traditional Catholic account of things. To speak of both just and unjust having a place at the table is at best confusing and at worst could suggest a kind of indifferentism, as if the difference between justice and injustice were simply a matter of opinion (e.g. “truth isn’t truth”).

      4. Rita Ferrone

        First, Karl, thanks for that Flannery O’Connor quote. What an amazing story that was. And how vivid she made it. Thanks for letting us revisit it.

        Second, Fritz, thanks for your reply. I hear what you are saying, but I want to push back a little. The Risen Jesus is still the crucified. Raskolnikov is still a convicted murderer after he has repented (in Crime and Punishment).

        I think of Rwanda. After the genocide, there was a program in which individuals could ask for forgiveness from those whose family members they killed. If the survivors granted it, they would meet and ritualize a reconciliation. Abuser, abused — perpetrator, survivor — these are terms to denote the respective roles in an event which has scarred people forever. Maybe we are arguing semantics here, but as I see it the grace of God does not erase the crime; it saves us from its future consequences. The meal is the ritual that signifies this.
        https://www.nytimes.com/interactive/2014/04/06/magazine/06-pieter-hugo-rwanda-portraits.html

      5. Jennifer Budziak

        I think I must sit with Fritz Bauerschmidt on this issue. It is one thing to acknowledge that the reign of God sees sin forgiven of all who ask, and all welcome at the table; it is another to demand that the victim, the abused, the raped, the un-personed, be able to sing of that day at anyone else’s bidding.

        As my friend and colleague Alan Hommerding has often said, confession is not the same as atonement, and forgiveness is not the same as reconciliation. It is important to honor the continuum along which these dynamics must work, and while my respect for Shirley Erena Murray is deep and boundless, I do not see that process honored in this piece of text.

        And yes, as you note below–I do think that lament, sackcloth, and ashes will be needed before we can appropriately sing of unity and forgiveness and healing.

        But thank you for posing this question, and for struggling with all of us for the answers–I’ve been doing a lot of that myself this week.
        –JKB

      6. Rita Ferrone

        Thanks for you comment, Jennifer. A sensitive issue, to be sure. I’ve appreciated the exchange.

  10. Rita Ferrone

    Unless, of course, the place we need to visit first is lament.

    I’m looking for the retrieval of sackcloth and ashes. . . where is the tradition of public penances when you need it?

    Reply

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