Being Catholic

I was visiting my parents’ cottage this past weekend, and on Sunday we went to the little country church where my folks were married. We were asked to prepare music for the liturgy, as it was a special occasion; the annual Church Picnic, so we did. It was nice.

It’s always a strange little homecoming experience for me to sing at mass. I enjoy making music with my family on these occasions… and I appreciate that we are offering our gifts sincerely. I love the expression that to sing is to pray twice.

It might come as no great surprise to you that I was raised a good Catholic boy. I went to a horrible Catholic high school because it was Catholic. I was a music minister in my church. I even considered the priesthood at one point. But then, I just seemed to turn a corner, and my personal perspective on the religion I was raised in changed. Suddenly, it all seemed controlled, fabricated… insincere.

I was a Catholic, so I was discouraged from becoming a third-world music missionary with a multi-denominational evangelical group. I was a Catholic, and I had to respect the sacraments, so I could not pay to marry a nice Irish girl so I could get work papers for performance opportunities in London. I was a Catholic, and so I had to keep secrets, and hide or deny my personal relationships. I was a Catholic, and so I was meant to trust an ancient, flawed, and often famously corrupt institution’s dictates on my morals and politics. I just couldn’t keep the blinders on anymore, so to the chagrin of my parents, I became a “Lapsed Catholic”.

I still enjoy the spiritual communion of people in Church, though; I still appreciate prayer; and I will always love tradition… so I don’t mind that I went to Church on Sunday. But once again, I was reminded of why I could never fully accept the silliness of my denomination. They are now wringing out the joy from the music ministry.

The one great benefit I gained from my church upbringing was the confidence it gave me to explore my musical abilities. I became a singer because of my church. And I also became a songwriter because of my church. I always loved when our modest little choir took on a new song because, back then, the music for the liturgy was my pop music. I was familiar with many of the writers contributing to my little repertoire of songs I learned to play on my guitar. Inspired, I wrote my own liturgy-based songs for special occasions, and it was encouraged. But now, all that has changed.

Music ministry in the Catholic Church is being controlled and strangled with an iron fist. Appropriate songs are strictly dictated, and original music is not permitted. The mucky-mucks who wear the tall hats and kissable rings have determined that only three composers’ music will be permitted for use in singing the parts of the mass… and those three composers are not particularly musically gifted. The new dictates are to be upheld by liturgy committees and pin-heads who know nothing about music being a spiritual gift. As a result, some long-time church musicians have quit their choirs… and I applaud their conviction to leave the official squashing of their gifts behind.

So there I was on Sunday… and I didn’t like or want to learn this ugly new mess of notes that was being imposed. And, bottom line, we didn’t have time to learn it. We certainly couldn’t throw in any gentle harmonies that give this kind of work it’s most prayerful feel. So, thankfully, my parents agreed that we should be musical rebels, and we took out some of our “golden oldies”, and we sang these short, tuneful melodies for what may well be a final time in Church. -And then we went back to the cottage, where I taught my parents a new song I wrote for their next mass. While I can be certain no obedient Catholic choir director would dream of touching my musical take on any psalm, I know that my mother will certainly be a rebel once more, and sing it in their little country church that is just grateful for music during the liturgy at all. Whatever works, right?

But, what does this have to do with “The Virgin Courtesan”, you might be wondering. Well, honestly nothing and everything. The Catholic Church of the Renaissance era in Venice figures prominently in the script. Actually, the Church is practically a character in itself, so it warranted research. I discovered that very little of this religion has changed in hundreds of years. The role of women in the Church, especially, is still marginalized to the point of near-insignificance. This is a pivotal point in my story of a young woman’s journey towards self-discovery in a society that is as Church-mad as they are sensually decadent. So much of the past still resonates, that this script has a very contemporary feel to it that I hope will give some people pause to consider the present sad state of the Church.

While my composer partner was sometimes worried that I was writing a polemic about the Catholic Church, the fact that I can imbue our central characters with truth gained from my own experiences is, well… that’s not courting controversy, that’s just writing! If “The Virgin Courtesan” winds up being at all controversial, I say okay! After all, we’re trying to push buttons with our title in the first place!

Finally, as I was leaving the church, passing through the sacristy, the priest, whom I have known since I was a kid, asked me what I was up to these days. I told him I was working on a workshop production of a new show I’ve written entitled “The Virgin Courtesan”. He paused, considering his reply. “Well, I like the Virgin part” he answered.