Music and the Habitus of Holy Temporality

A way of listening that sanctifies time

How can music make time holy? Specifically, how does the music of the Mass make time holy? (For the purposes of this article, the "music of the Mass" refers to what is known in liturgical choir circles as the "Mass parts"; the Kyrie (Lord Have Mercy), the Gloria, the Sanctus (Holy, Holy, Holy), and the Agnus Dei (Lamb of God).) The most obvious answer is that the music gives us time to reflect on the words which speak of the things of God and are therefore holy. This is the goal of traditional chant music, to sanctify through giving time to the Word of God. One good example of this is the Dominican Liturgical Center's Missa Orientalis. The melody is simple and easy to pick up which allows the words to shine through. The choir parts do not obscure the words, but rather allow us to enter into them and consider what exactly it means to ask for God's mercy or to sing with the Heavenly host, "Holy, holy, holy are you Lord God... Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord."

However, this isn't the only way music sanctifies time. The performance of music itself can be instructive for growing in holiness in a multitude of ways. In life, we so often want to control time. We want events to come to pass in the way and timing that we think would be ideal. Whether it's being bored in class as a kid or forced to wait for a desired life event to come about as we grow up, we want things when we them. Music, however, teaches us how to wait well. In any piece of music, we are not given a plan for how it will play out as we listen. The composer does not reveal every theme or flourish at the beginning of the piece. Music takes time to become what it is. Each note comes in its own time and lasts for the duration that has been assigned to it. In a well- played piece of music, no note is too early or too late or lasts too long or not long enough. When we listen to a piece of music, we enter into its time, accepting each note as it comes, enjoying its relation to every other note in sequence before and after it.

James Macmillan's Missa Dunelmi is an excellent example of this, particularly the Kyrie and Agnus Dei. In both of these moments of the Mass we repeat the phrase "Kyrie eleison" or "Agnus Dei qui tolis peccata mundi" multiple times. In both pieces MacMillan builds in pauses between the repeated phrases that are just noticeably longer than one would expect. You want to continue on, to jump into the next phrase, but you are forced (or perhaps invited?) to slow down and wait. To savor the words just sung instead of mechanically plowing ahead. Each phrase comes in its own proper time.

When looking at the music of the Mass, we must also pay attention to what is going on in the ritual while the music is being sung. In the Extraordinary Form of the Mass, the Holy, Holy Holy is not combined with the "Blessed is he" as it is in the ordinary form. The Sanctus is sung before the consecration while the priest is praying the canon (Eucharistic prayer) quietly. The Benedictus (Blessed is he) is sung after the priest says the words of institution aloud for all to hear. This context makes sense of how MacMillan sets up his Sanctus and Benedictus in the Missa Dunelmi. The Sanctus begins quietly and gradually builds getting louder and more dramatic as we approach the consecration before pausing at what seems the height of the drama. This provides space for the greatest drama, that of the Eucharist, that the Mass has been building toward both musically and ritually. The Benedictus then comes in quietly and contemplatively, inviting us to consider what just took place on the altar. The Benedictus then also gradually builds in drama before coming back down and ending quietly. The piece thus creates a sort of "sonic altarpiece" with even the dynamics (loudness or softness) of the music creating the shape of an altarpiece with the Eucharist at the center.

Finally, music teaches us how to sanctify time by the fact that it ends. This may seem odd, but consider this: for a piece to work as a part of the Mass it has to follow certain rules. While the composer has plenty of creative freedom within the piece, if the end result leaves out any of the words of one of these parts of the Mass or unduly adds too much music or words on top of the words prescribed for Mass, the piece is no longer usable in the context of a Mass. The composer must put in just enough in just the right way. Let's return to the Missa Orientalis as an example. This Mass setting works not because it is simple (because the following could also be said of the more complex Missa Dunelmi), but because "it's all there". The composer allowed it to end. It ends when "enough" has been sung. The finality of an ending of either a note or of the piece is what invites the next note, the next action, or the act of contemplation to happen. Music sanctifies time because it allows "deaths" or endings to be fruitful, to be "enough" for what is asked.

So how does music sanctify time? Music does this by drawing our attention to the things that matter most, drawing us into prayer and contemplation of the mysteries set before us, teaching us how endings can bear fruit, and finally by cultivating in us the virtue of patience. Next time you are at Mass, pay attention to the setting of the Mass. What is it inviting you to contemplate? How does it draw you into the mystery of the Mass?