His mind began to wonder as soon as he noticed that the choir director was playing a didgeridoo during the opening hymn. "Have we always had a didgeridoo in our choir?" he thought. "And is that, in fact, a didgeridoo? I've never seen one in person before, so I can't be sure. Playing that thing looks painful."

This was followed by a swift, internal reprimand. "You're here to focus on God, not on the choir," he reminded himself. "The music is supposed to support the mass, not detract from it. Just ignore the parts that distract you."

And he did pretty well … until the hand clapping started during the Gloria. Then the same old questions raised their ugly heads. Should we be clapping our hands during the Gloria? This is a Catholic church, after all, not a Pentecostal church (not that there's anything wrong with that.) We're old school, right? We're reverential and subdued. Doesn't this bopping and clapping seem, well, irreverent?

But he reminded himself that not everyone shares the same sensibilities. Not everyone felt that Church music should be understated and sober. Most of the choir at this church … most of the congregation, in fact … were people in their late 40's to early 60's. Baby boomers. People who wanted their church music to sound like the Mamas and the Papas, the Byrds, the Beatles. This was their version of "contemporary." They liked it. They liked to verge on dancing during the Liturgy of the Eucharist. They liked to clap and smile. They'd like to buy the world a Coke and keep it company. And that's OK.

So he went back to trying to focus on God and forced himself to look for references to God in the lyrics of the "hymns," which wasn't easy because references to God were vague and entirely subjective in this music. In all honesty, this was music for people who enjoyed novelty more than contemplation of the eternal. This was music that wasn't really about anything other than itself. A cappella sections, bongo solos, tambourines and all.

He got distracted again during the ukulele solo in Lamb Of God and started pandering to his own bad nature again. "Why don't we just give the whole church to the baby boomers? They've already got the music, why don't we just give them everything? Hang beaded curtains in the doorways, take the candles off the altar and put up lava lamps, replace the sign of the cross with the peace sign, and take down the crucifix and hang an oil portrait of David Crosby?"

This was followed by another sharp internal reprimand: "What's wrong with me? Why can't I just leave my bitterness out in the van on Sunday mornings? Who am I to decide what is or isn't appropriate church music? It could be worse. Just wait until today's young people are in charge and all the music in church sounds like Nickelback. Won't that be great? Singing Halleluiah Halleluiah to the tune of Hey, Hey, I Wanna Be A Rock Star.

And what is THAT sound? Is that … is that a kazoo?"

Labels: Faith, Humor