I Am A Pastoral Musician

I asked a good friend
to offer the opening prayer
at the Choir Festival this Saturday.

Fr. Tom and I go way back.
He asked me
what was has been
the most significant things in my ministry
over these past 30 years.

Below is, quite literally,
the email message I responded with.
I decided to post here
and in my 30 Years In Music Blog as well.
I just thought
that those who read my occasional ramblings
on electronic parchment
might want to know
just what exactly
goes on in Rubi’s head.

The most significant things about my ministry
these past 30 years??

a few things come to mind. . ..

Gratitude
Learning to be grateful for many things,
. . . like years and years of classical piano study my parents gave me.
I hated piano lessons as a teenager,
but now can't imagine my life without it.
We sometimes walked to piano lessons with my mother
because my father worked swing-shift,
I think it was about 7 miles. . . I hated it!!!!
But today,
I am ever grateful my mother made us walk those miles
and made us take those piano lessons. . ..

gratitude. . . .I own a baby grand piano,
also a gift from my mother. . .
. . .What mother ever gave her daughter
a baby grand piano for a gift???

Learning what is my talent. . .
A lot people really don't know what their talent is.
Talent isn't necessarily artistic.
A lot of people don't know that either.
But what is my talent???
.. . is it really music?
Maybe.
But I'm more inclined to think
that it's bringing out the talent in others.
Sometimes they don't even see it.
I help them "see" that all things are possible.
Maybe music is the gift.
But I'm really inclined to think music is the avenue to something greater.
Bringing out the talent of others is the gift.
And even more,
bringing out the musical talent in others,
in turns, helps to bring greater gifts
that they didn't know they had.
 . . yes. . . music is the avenue. . .

The most significant thing?
The children.
Every parish I have ever served in
I have tried hard to develop a children's choir.
Some places had success stories to tell, others not so much.
80% of people who sing in choirs as an adult
sang in a choir as a child.
This is a music ministry no-brainer.
After 30 years,
I am graced by God to see and experience this statistic first-hand.

. . .and children are so free.
I love working with adults,
but adults always have an opinion. .
. . it's too fast, too slow, too high, too low,
it's a boring song, I don't like that song,
the other song was better, why do we have to learn this song. . .
Children just sing.
Children make you laugh.
And when they get it, when they really get,
the children will make you cry.

Even more,
I am a child of the 80%.
I sang in the children's choir once upon a time.
Who would have thought that a gazillion years later,
I would be living out the statistic
that I so often quote to others . .
 . . in more ways than one. . .

In the end,
I know that I am not just leading music
for Sunday to Sunday.
I am doing something
that will create the musician
who will one day replace me.
That director will come from the children.
80% of people who sing in choirs as adults
sang in a choir as a child.
And one of those children will actually grow up
to be the parish's music director.

Yes
the children are the most significant part
of my music ministry. . .

. . .another thought about things significant. .  .

Music in general.
A musician takes years to make.
And just being a musician
doesn't necessarily make one a Pastoral Musician.
Still,
it takes years to make a musician.

In recent years,
I've dedicated a part of myself
to help create musicians,
more specifically, pianists.

I teach at both
COMPAS - Center of Music and Performing Arts Southwest
and
Garage Cultural - Center of Music and Visual Arts.
And more recently,
offering lessons in my home studio.

While neither of these schools are on
an ecclesial acre of land,
I do consider it a part of my mission and ministry.
In fact,
some of my students have been my own choir members,
one of which will be a soloists during the children's portion
of Saturday's program.

But again. . .
it goes back to the mission
of creating the musician who will one day replace me.

I guess what I'm trying to say
is that it's not enough to know
that 80% of people who sing in the choir as adult
sang in a choir as a child.
It's not enough to form a children's choir,
to form the children in the music ministry.
I think it is also necessary
to form that young musician,
who,
in time,
will be formed as a Pastoral Musician.

. . .while my ministry has had her ups and downs,
her fun pastors to work with
and her not so fun pastors to work with,
I wouldn't change it for the world.
I am a Pastoral Musician.
This is my Vocation.

. . and that vocation continues to grow and evolve
even after 30 years. . . .

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

about the photo:
the musically talented hands of one of my piano students!

Reflections on the First Hispanic Women's Conference in the Archdiocese of Detroit

The Archdiocese of Detroit just held the first Latina Women's Conference.

What did I learn from women's conference? Not much from speakers, whom I thought were mediocre at best. I must admit that I did not hear all of the talks. . .but what I did hear. . . well. . . I honestly expected so-o-o much more. . .

. . . might I dare suggest for the future: Dr. Ada Maria Isasi Diaz, Rosa Martha Zarate Macias, Sister Rosa Maria Icasa . . . . . Sister Nina Rodriguez. . . .

But. . . from my participation in music ministry I did learn several things. . . .and to appreciate even more. . . several thoughts here, in no particular order. . . .

I come to appreciate all of my friends, old and new. Not that I didn't before. But you know, I do have some wonderful, fabulous friends. And it's good to let them know that they are wonderful and fabulous every once in a while. I come to appreciate them more after yesterday.

I appreciate, respect and honor the talent of my friend Marcy. In our music we have come to almost have a psychic connection. And you know, that's a God thing. Marcy, I cannot imagine my life without your friendship and your music. . . . .I cannot imagine my life without our ministry to the community, our ministry to each other. . . .OK. . .now I am crying. . . .

I appreciate, respect and honor the talent of my friend Ana. In all honesty, you amaze me at how quickly and "on the spot" you fired up those interludes with the oboe. I am touched by all you are doing to make this special Mass of Remembrance a reality. I am impressed by your commitment to minister unto to those who have experienced such a huge loss. I may joke and call you "The Reverend Doctor Sister Ana," but it 's only because I wish to honor the oh so many things you have managed to do with the life our good and gracious God has given you. . . . .

Connie, you, my dear lady, could become a TV news anchor. How do you come up with some of those commentaries? I totally forgot about the rebozos coming from the women of Chiapas.

I come to appreciate Sister Nina so much more. A religious, an advocator, a teacher, a catechist, A Cantico Lady. . . and even a choreographer! Sister Nina, you just amaze me sometimes. And if I haven't told you lately, I love you and appreciate that you are a part of my life. And I thank you for all that you have done for the community throughout the years. . . . You, my dearest Nina, could, should and ought to be a speaker at this event next year. . . .

I appreciate working with the group of women called together to be a part of the music ministry for this event. I am particularly impressed by Carly, Mistress of the Vihuela. Carly, your musicianship is what kept me going on those Caribbean rhythms. Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! . . . .So, Carly, when are you going to form The Mariachi Mujer de Michigan????

Jennifer, you were always so helpful. . . moving the piano at rehearsals at Holy Redeemer, helping me with cables the day of the event. I truly appreciate that. It takes a tremendous amount of time and energy to load and unload equipment. That you would stop and help me untangle extension cords and get all connected is something I truly appreciate. And Jen, you have a fabulous voice. Celebrate that gift, girlfriend!

Silvia. . . .you are planning on spending more time with that guitar, are you not? Silvia, you are very talented and I am grateful to have worked with you. . . . .I appreciate all of you who were a part of this music ministry. . . .

I know they already know this, but I'll say it anyway. I appreciate, love and respect my Cantico Ladies. You know, I enjoyed my participation with this other group, the group pulled together for this women's conference. But Cantico de la Mujer Latina is home. Your presence in my life has made a huge difference to me. Where would I be without you? Where would we be without each other?. . . .Can you believe that we have been making music together for about as many years as our youngest member has been on planet earth???. . . .

I also come to understand that while my public ministry is a music ministry, it's really something else. It is through music that I help others develop a confidence in what they are already so obviously good at, but sometimes don't believe or know that they are. Developing the music develops so much more.

And I learned something I should have already known: Don't assume anything. If you want to know something, ask. Isn't that so basic? "Ask and you shall receive." Yeah, I should have asked for the days schedule of events. I like to know things ahead of time. I know that things change at the last minute, but I like to have a plan of action to start with. It keeps me grounded. I mean, you can't have a Plan B until you first have a Plan A. I don't have to be involved in designing the plan. But if I'm in the plan, I'd like to know what said plan includes. . . .OK. . Rubi's Rambling again. . .But now I know and will ask for it next time. I take ownership on this one. Mia Culpa.

I also learned that not everyone will respect and honor those things that you value, even at an event for the faithful. My keyboard suffered some serious damage at the event at the hands of someone who claims to value life. Music is not only my ministry. It is my livelihood. My life, as it were, will be seriously effected and affected by the damage done to my instrument. As Marcy so often reminds us, "everything happens for a reason." Still, I do not know what I am supposed to learn from this. What is the reason that this happened? I do not know who will repair my instrument. I do not know how I will pay for repairs done. In all honesty, I do not think that I should be the one to pay for the repairs.

I thank God that Robyn's keyboard and Marcy's guitar did not also suffer damage as they were connected into my amp. I thank God that Doris' guitar and Andriana's mic did not suffer damage, as their amps were connected into my surge protector. . .All of these cables connected us all. . .But still, why my keyboard??? What do you want me to learn from this God?. . . OK. . .I'm crying again. . .

As we were taking things down at the day's conclusion, Beatriz told me that I was dangerous, commenting on the poem I wrote. . . .You know, despite all of my tears for my keyboard, I kinda needed to hear that. . . . Poetry is and always has been my first love. . . .Thanks, Beatriz. Because now I know that at least one person really, really heard what I said. . . .and thanks for reminding me that sometimes it's about a ministry to myself. . . .Why do women tend to forget that sometimes????

I continue to reflect on the day's events and encourage others to do the same.

Say a prayer for that young man who took it upon himself to recklessly move my keyboard. He respects life, but does not respect things that belong to others.

I would also ask that you say a prayer for my keyboard.
She is an Ensoniq ZR 76. . . .

I have started to post questions on forums in the hopes that some keyboard techie will be able to help. . . . but I begin to realize that, because Ensoniq no longer manufactures, my keyboard may actually go to her grave.

Children's Choirs

Children's Choirs.
Why is it that more churches don't have them?
I have been wracking my brain on this one.

You see,
I've been trying to organize an event
for children's choirs:
A Children's Choir Festival.
I was hoping to invite several choirs
from the area
to participate in this event.
I was hoping to make it an annual event,
something the kids could look forward to.

There's only one problem:
I'm having a heck of time
finding churches in the area
(Catholic or otherwise)
that actually have a children's music ministry.

I've tried my Facebook friends.
I've made phone calls.
I've asked pastors
if they know of pastors of other churches
that might have children's choirs . . .

Most of the places and people
I have been in contact with
have a children's choir for Christmas.
But not much more than that.

Why is this?
I mean,
there's a ripple effect
in a children's music ministry.
Get the kids involved
and parents and grandparents want to be there.
And brothers and sisters
have no alternative
but to be in church.

Many years ago
at an NPM convention
a speaker
(I don't remember who)
was quoting statistics.
I can't remember the source
of the statistics either.
The only thing I remember clearly
is one of the statistics given:
80% of people who sing in choirs as adults
sang in a choir as child.

Like anyone else
who has attended an NPM event,
I went to many workshops and concerts that year.
But that sole statistic
was the most powerful part of the event for me.
How can one not but act upon that statistic?

Why don't we have more churches
with children's choirs?

Why aren't we teaching our children
the difference between
crescendo
and decrescendo?

Why aren't we teaching our children
what a fermata is,
what a repeat sign is?

Why aren't we teaching our children
to sing the psalms?

Why aren't we teaching our children
to memorize the Eucharistic acclamations?

Why aren't we teaching our children
to sing in parts?
Why aren't we using the wonderful gift
that is Taize
to help us to that end?

Why don't more people see
that apart from all of the music stuff they will learn
they will learn and affirm the faith?


So,
why don't more churches
have children's choirs?

I currently serve
in a Southwest Detroit Parish.
The children's choir I direct
sings mostly in Spanish,
but does have a few songs in English
in their repertoire
as well as some Taize in Latin.

It is about as inner city as it comes.
But you know,
of all of the ministries\I've been involved in over the years,
this one is the most life giving.
Perhaps it's because I'm at a point in my ministry
where I can see that statistic given at an NPM event
so many years ago
come into its own.
. . .and. . . yeah. . .
. . . I sang in a choir as a child, too!. . . .


And you know,
I would be amiss
if I did not send out kudos
to Oregon Catholic Press
for their collection,
"El Señor Nos Invita."
This work provided
a most excellent starting ground
with my work
with this particular group of amazing children.
I only hope OCP plans to do more work like this!

I would also be missing the mark
if I didn't mention how much the work
of Lee Gwozdz has inspired me.
Lee,
I just thought you might like to know
that Patrick Star of SpongeBob Squarepants fame,
frequently attends our rehearsals.
I never would have thought of inviting him
if it weren't for you!

I will still most likely host an event
for the fabulous musical children this fall.
But it most likely won't be a choir festival.
But I'll continue to work on that.
I'll post info about the fall event
once I have it all in line.

In the meantime,
get busy
and get your children's choir started!
It only takes a spark. . . . . .

.. and hey, if you'd like to discuss this further,
feel free to contact me
via my Facebook!

The Lord Is My Shepherd

I played for a funeral yesterday.
I received a phone call from the pastor
asking if I was available
to serve as musician.

When I arrived at the church
I learned that the deceased
was an uncle
to two of the children that sing
in the children’s choir.
They are sisters.

I knew that he had been ill.
The girls sometimes
didn’t make it to mass
or to a rehearsal
because they and their mother
were caring for him.

They told me that their uncle
looked just like he always does,
only as if he were asleep.
I walked with them to the coffin.
They told me was 52 years old.

I asked them how their mother was.
They said she was fine,
But did cry every once in a while.
I told them that sometimes
it’s just a sad thing when someone dies.
even if they had an illness,
like their uncle did,
and we know that they are dying,
It still is sad.

It's sad for us
because we won't see them anymore.
Sure,
we know they are in heaven.
But still,
we are saddened
that they have died.

They asked me
if I needed them to sing with me.
Of course,
I welcomed them.
But I told them to check with their mother first
as she might need them
to sit with her.
I told them
that sometimes it just feels better
if you have your people with you
during moments such as these.

The girls decided to sing.
But once I started the psalm
little Chelsea broke down.

The power of music,
the power of the psalm
Just amazes me,
“El Señor es mi pastor
(The Lord is my shepherd. . .)
I continued the psalm
and the child buried her face in her hands,
trembling as she wept.
During the second reading
I walked over to her
and just hugged her.
I asked her if she wanted to sit with her mother,
and she said, “no.”

She wanted to sing.
She needed to sing.
She knew that this
is where she need to be.

Now,
I don’t know
if I’m about to explain this
so that others can understand.
But herein lies the difference
between being a musician
who works for the church
and serving as pastoral musician.
This wasn’t just about
giving a hug to someone who needed it.
It was realizing
that little girl
knew full well
that music is her ministry
and despite life’s struggle and pain
she wanted and needed
to sing for this mass.
And I knew
that she also knew this.
Does this make sense
to anyone else but me?
You know,
It really doesn’t matter.
I understood well
What was happening.
And I am all the better for it.

As mass was finishing,
The girls walked through the door
and down the stairs of the choir loft.
Suddenly,
Chelsea ran back up.
She said, “Bye, Rubi,”
and then started down again.

Now,
These may seem like incidental things
that I write about here.
But,
somehow,
I think these girls,
especially the one moved to tears,
committed themselves
to the music ministry
in a very special way.

Chelsea,
The Lord IS my shepherd.
And it just thrills me
That you can say the same thing.

More On Decisions

Recent decisions in my life
Have changed my worship
And rehearsal schedule.

Because of recent decisions made,
I now serve as a pastoral musician,
And choir director,
For six different liturgies
In two different languages
Rehearsing five different groups
In three different parishes.
Every week.
OK. . .well… .one of those groups
Only rehearses every other week.
And not all of those groups sing every week.
And not all of those masses have a choir.
But. . .still. . . .my worship schedule has changed.

I know.
it sounds a bit frazzled,
But it isn’t really.
My music planning tends to overlap.
It’s really only a challenge
In the sense that these parishes
All use different hymnals.
For the most part,
The day and time of each of these liturgies
And rehearsals don’t conflict.

Well. . .at least they didn’t
Until late summer
When I was formally asked
To form/direct a children’s choir
For one of these parishes.

A part of me really wanted to do this.
Of all the groups I have led over the years,
There are two kinds of groups
That are just so life giving to me:
Women’s choirs
And
Children’s choirs.

These children are bilingual,
Though not all of them are bi-literate.
Their parents primary speak Spanish.

This children’s choir, however,
Would require me spending much time
In inner city Detroit.
I’ve been involved in an inner city ministry before.
It really takes a special commitment
To this ministry.

A part of me resisted. .. .
The distance to drive
(especially in snowy weather),
The pay would be meager,
And just the plain messiness
That comes with inner city work.

Don’t get me wrong.
I firmly believe that an inner city ministry
Brings forth great blessings to those involved.
But the pastoral musician
Called to serve in such a place
Must have the vision
To see beyond the messiness
And peal away the layers
To bring forth the gems that are hiding there.

The week to week involvement with the children
Would require a slight change
In my involvement
With the primary parish I serve in.
That seemed to work itself out
Without too much of a kerfuffle.
At least,
It did at first.

But then. . . well. . .
I was asked to prepare the children for Christmas.
I had to think long and hard about that.
I had to pray, reflect and discern.
To accept this
Meant that I would not be present for Christmas
At my primary parish.

In the end,
The decision I made
Was to spend this Christmas
In this Southwest Detroit parish.

This would still require me
To prepare Christmas with my primary parish,
Although other musicians,
Guest musicians,
would accompany.

No, this was not an easy decision to make.
And certainly not one
that will earn me any income.

In fact,
I will end up in the red financially by doing this.
But, as I said in a previous blog entry,
Decisions made via a true discernment process
Are not about money.
If it were,
I probably wouldn’t be involved
In any kind of ministry at all.

Inner city ministry is a special calling.
It’s messy.
Participants are often transitory.
There’s a different concept of time,
A different concept of structure.

There is a deep reverence
Given to popular piety,
A strong commitment
To popular faith expression.
Sadly,
the gift of popular religiosity
is often looked upon as superstitious
or not needeed
in suburban parishes.
So, this aspect of this particular parish
really is gift.

Liturgy is noisy here.
Really.
The liturgy is noisy.
For those of you who like that quite time after receiving the Eucharist
Or after the readings. . .well. . .
You can just forget that.
It’s not gonna happen. . .
. . .at least, not at this particular parish.
(another reason to seek the quiet
that comes in the early morning hours.)

Children acting like children abound.
Sometimes parents don’t realize
That they ought to be in the cry room
Or just watched a little better.
Now, that’s not a complaint nor a criticism.
In fact,
It’s praise.
Young couples with young children
Are going to church in droves
In the inner city, at least, in this parish.
How awesome is that?
I think that is absolutely magnificent.
But that creates…well. . .a messy and noisy liturgy.

If you can’t become a part of the messiness
Of this type of liturgical life
Then inner city ministry is not your calling.

If you can’t see the tremendous possibilities
That lay dormant
Waiting to blossom and become,
Dormant in the children
And in the noise,
Then inner city ministry is not your calling.

If you are the person in the pew
That is complaining because some wayward child
Just ran down the center aisle
And the parent is nowhere to be found,
Then inner city ministry is not for you.

If you are the person who realizes
That mom and dad both work
And one of them is still struggling
To get their immigration papers in order
And that even though their three-year-old daughter
Just ran down the aisle
It’s consecration.
And they need to be in the moment,
In the sacred space of the moment. . .
.. .well, maybe then you realize
the gift that is inner city.
The little girl isn’t going anywhere.
In fact,
She’s in church.
What an absolutely fabulous place for her to be.
It’s noisy and messy.

But mom and dad and daughter,
With all of their life’s struggles,
Are in church.
I praise God for that
And I’ll find my personal quiet time with God.
Some other time.
For this liturgy
Is a communal prayer moment.
And in order to be in the communion
One must accept the mess
And the noise that comes with it.

That’s not to say
That we shouldn’t work
At creating sacred silence in the liturgy,
At having parents use the cry room.
It’s only to say
That inner city liturgical life
Is a very unique experience, indeed.

There is also great creativity
In an inner city ministry.
When people don’t have a lot of money
To accomplish their goals
They find some very creative ways
Of reaching those goals.
And this is one thing that I absolutely love:
The Creativity.

Now, don’t get me wrong.
I am in no way saying that suburban folk aren’t creative.
It’s just a different sort of creativity.
And as a poet and musician,
I find that I am constantly seeking out
Different forms of being creative.

Having said all of the above
I realize that I am the musician
That can see those gems, those pearls,
That are lying dormant,
That are waiting to grow and become. . .
. .. I have the eyes that see
the gift that comes in the messiness.
I can see the gems in the children.
I can see the great gifts
That this inner city parish
Can give to the larger church.

If I didn’t see it,
This decision
Would not have been so hard.

And yet,
There are some who have treated me
Absolutely terrible because of it.
So be it.

Of all of the things I learned in Cursillo,
I think this is what stays with me most:
“To See, To Judge, To Act.”
The thing is,
If you can see it
You have a responsibility to act upon it.

And I think maybe
Those who aren’t happy with my decision
Probably just can’t see it.

I know that I will eventually
Be called to make some other decisions later.
But that bridge cannot be crossed
Until she presents herself.
And with the clustering process,
It would seem that some paths are being made
For me, and for others,
That aren’t quite totally visible yet.
I cannot decide to continue on any one path
Until all of those paths are set clear before me.

And what of my primary parish?
Who will lead music for Christmas?
Well, first of all,
There are some very competent musicians
Who are a part of the music every week.
It certainly is not a situation
Where no one was left to lead music.
And, to be quite honest,
I was a bit surprised
At how easy it was
To find a guest organist/pianist
For each of the Christmas masses.
And even though one musician
Who had previously committed to lead music
Then recanted their offer to help,
It was by the grace of God
That another musician
Quite literally picked up the phone
And called me to say,
“Here I Am!”

In a previous blog
I wrote about how some decisions
Bring about gifts we never would have expected.
One of the guest musicians I found
Was actually feeling a bit out of sorts.
This was going to be the first year
That this person
didn’t serve as pastoral musician for Christmas
In many years.
This person actually thanked me
For the opportunity to sing God’s praises
For the celebration of Christmas.
But you see,
It takes my not being present
To create this opportunity.
It takes my being absent from music
To give the gift of music to another.

And I must be totally honest.
The clustering situation really is taking it’s toll on me.
A part of me wishes
We would just go ahead and get on with it.
Cluster us.
Merge us.
Whatever it is we are to be,
Just create it already.

If some of us will lose our jobs,
Well. . .tell us already.
If our mass schedule will change,
Let’s go ahead and change it already.
If we must get a new pastor
Or worship in a different church building,
Why can’t we just get on with the process
And do it already???
I’ve been at this primary parish
For 3½ years now
And while I knew and understood
That this process was taking place,
It just amazes me
How much the clustering process
Is just dragging along.


I am not the type of pastoral musician
Who comes in just to “fill in the slot,”
Making sure that this mass or that mass
Has someone “doing” music.
I need to belong.
I am not the person who just comes in,
Plays for mass and then leaves.
I have an ardent desire
To belong to the community I serve in.

“To See, To Judge, To Act.”
I would rather act
Than react.
And I can only act
With the information I have.

Spending Christmas in southwest Detroit is a process.
I am creating some new friendships,
Developing some new relationships
That I am very happy to have.
The inner city will probably never
Pay a salary to a pastoral musician/music director
That a suburban parish can.
But I find that I do belong to this community.
And, whatever else may happen with the clustering process,
I have a great weight lifted from my shoulders
Knowing that this parish
is willing to adopt me,
If only to prepare children for Christmas.
Do you understand?
I belong.

I hope you enjoyed the song, Mi burrito Sabanero.
This song is one of the many songs
that the children of Detroit
are preparing for Christmas.
And you know,
I can teach them this song.
If I couldn’t, well, the decision to do Christmas
In Detroit wouldn’t have been so hard.
But I can teach them.
And if I don’t teach them,
. . .well. . . that would make me
About as useful
As the person from that gospel story
A few weeks ago
Who buried his talent.
I don’t know about you,
But I can’t own that.

The Cursillo taught me
“to see, to judge, to act,”
and so, I did.

My sincerest apologies
To those who feel slighted by my decision,
For that was never my intention.
And please realize
That there are other circumstances,
Circumstances that I cannot type
On to this electronic parchment.
But rest assured,
these important decisions
are always made by yours truly
in and with a discerning Spirit.

God Bless on us on this special Day
(December 12th)!
And God bless the children
who love to sing about the Bethlehem Burro!

The Cluster Monster

I attended
our parish worship commission meeting last night.
There was a bit of tension during the meeting
As we discussed various topics.

But in all honesty,
I created some of that tension
With my brutal honesty.

You see,
I have made some decisions in recent months
In regards to my ministry.
And some of those decisions
Were already out in the open.
Some of those decisions
I had already discussed with the pastor.

But the last decision,
Well, let’s just say
I spilled the beans
at the worship meeting last night.

I won’t detail those decisions
Here on the blog
As those are topics best held in another forum,
Specifically, the parish setting.

But I think it is most appropriate
To share in this blog
One of the “whys” of my decision.
And I think it is appropriate
Because there may be other pastoral musicians
Who now find themselves
In the same situation that I do.

One of the reasons for the decisions I have made
Is greatly influenced
by this monster named “Clustering.”
In all honesty,
I think this is nothing more than semantics,
Nothing more than the ecclesial vocabulary for “Downsizing.”

In my opinion
Clustering is only a stop gap,
Something that will only delay dealing
With the inevitable problem:
The Clergy Shortage.
And in fact,
I believe that we are committing
A sarcedotal genocide
By giving these good men
Two or more parishes,
Which only increases stress levels,
That, in turn,
Leads to all sorts of health issues.

I have more views on clustering,
But I’ll stop with that one.
Whether or not I like it,
The Cluster Monster (see image above)

is visiting our churches.
And, somehow,
We must find a way to deal with it
All the while keeping the faith.

As a pastoral musician,
I find that I must find a way
To remain standing and active in ministry,
Regardless of who gets clustered with whom,
Regardless of which parishes close.

Jeanne Cotter,
Perhaps the greatest and best liturgical pianist
Of our time,
Once said,
“Sing as if your life depended on it.”
And for those who are musicians she said,
“Play as if your life depended on it.”
What wisdom.
For the fact is,
If you are truly a pastoral musician
Those words ring true.

But lately,
It gets harder to sing the song
With all the uncertainty of clustering.

Will the mass I sing for
Still be a part of the parish schedule?

Will the parish I serve in
Remain opened, or will it be closed?

Will I be singing in a different church,
A cluster partner church,
One year from now?

Will I be singing with the same choir
Or a different choir?

Will I be accompanying on the same piano?
An electronic piano?
A pipe organ?
An electronic organ?

Will I be singing from the same hymnal
Or a different hymnal?

Will I be preparing worship aids each week?
Or will I be preparing LCD projected hymns????

From the beginning,
I did not like the clustering process.
But in as much as it is a struggle we share,
I respected the struggle and the processes thereof.
After all, there is growth in struggle.
However, the process has not respected us.

Originally,
St. Helena in Wyandotte was our cluster partner.
The pastor was then assigned to St. Stan’s in Wyandotte
and the cluster shifted.
We lost our original dancing partner.
St. Helena was now to cluster with St. Stan’s
But rather than formally cluster with her new partner,
St. Helena was subsequently closed.
Yes, closed.

In all honesty,
This scared me.
But more on the illogical process of clustering. . .

Our current cluster partners are
St. Francis Xavier in Ecorse
And Our Lady of Lourdes in River Rouge.
However,
that process took a back seat as Fr. Charles
(Pastor, St. Elizabeth in Wyandotte)
is now involved with yet another cluster,
St. Patrick and St. Joseph, both in Wyandotte.
While we have respected the cluster process
With St. Francis and Lourdes
(joint religious ed, pulpit exchanges, parish directory, etc.)
The cluster process is not respecting us.

Five parishes are now dancing together
And least two of them are sharing a partner
(oops, I mean pastor!)

As one employed by the Roman Catholic Church,
I find myself asking the question,
“Where will I be when the process is completed?”
That is a very tough question to answer
When the rules of the game keep changing.

Many in the United States
Are worried about employment,
Have already lost employment,
Are struggling financially.

Serving as Pastoral Musician
Is not only my ministry,
It is my livelihood.
In this sense,
Clustering is a real life issue for me.

My sincerest apologies
To those who may have felt some tension
At last night’s meeting
Because of what I shared.
But I would rather be brutally honest
Than leave folks second guessing
Because that only leads to gossip
And untruths being spread.

And my apologies if my sarcasm offends you.

But I have always likened myself to the cactus,

standing tall, sometimes flowering,

with just enough pointy edges for protection.

(probably an image I picked up in my youth,

being the daughter of mexican immigrants and all. . .)

Anyway, The Fact is that
The Cluster Monster
Is not a fictional character.
He’s real, folks.
And he’s hiding under the pew.
I know.
I’ve been staring him in the face.

I thank God
For the many blessings I have received in my ministry.

And I remain ever grateful to the angel
Who teaches me to be proactive.

St. Cecilia, pray for us.
St. Helena, Pray For Us.
St. Stanilaus Kostka, Pray For Us.
St. Patrick, Pray For Us.
St. Joseph, Pray For Us.
St. Elizabeth of Hungary, Pray For Us.
St. Francis Xavier, Pray For Us.

Our Lady of Lourdes, Pray For Us.

Behold The Wood of This Cross

Behold, the Wood of This Cross.

You know, church life can be really trying sometimes. Just because it is "church" doesn’t mean it will be without communication breakdowns. Just because it is "church" doesn’t mean that people and procedures will be respected. On the contrary, precisely because the church is human many unfavorable qualities can, and often do, abound.

The challenge for each of us is to bear this cross when it presents itself. We must be Simon to each other and help each other carry the cross. Indeed, we must challenge those who thrust the cross upon our shoulders, or on our friend’s shoulders, to begin with. And this challenge is one of made out love. Precisely because I love you as a sister/brother in Christ, I must challenge you sometimes.

The thing is, most of us are afraid of that confrontation. We fear losing the friendship. We fear being cast as the troublemaker. And so many end up whispering in the pews to those they would see as allies about what this one or that one did, about what this group or that group did. In the end, that does nothing but build up another cross.

Near as I can tell, Jesus Christ spent his ministry challenging folks. Wouldn’t it really be more Christ-like to offer the challenge? And to do so in love and respect? To really pray about what words to say, about how to lovingly offer the challenge? Instead, many stand crucified. Maybe we are nailed to the cross because we are afraid to open out mouths.

There are times when it is necessary to stand Silent Like the Lamb, Silent with The Lamb. However, there are other times when our silence perpetuates and exasperates the sin.

Now, I won’t detail on this electronic parchment why the San Damiano crucifix in the photo here is a cross for me to bear. It has nothing to do with the cross itself or the fact that it is San Damiano. It will suffice to say that this cross I bear is a cross due to communication breakdowns and disrespect.

Still, this cross, that is to say, the cross made of wood in this photo, has been part of our parish’s Lenten mission. As I reflect on it now, even the cross built of communication break downs and disrespect has been an integral part of this mission. At least it has been for me.

Even so, it has been difficult for me to enter into the spirit of this mission knowing that people I love deeply have been hurt.

The presenter of the mission told the story of St. Francis of Assisi and the wolf. Now, that is a story I’ve heard since childhood. I won’t detail it here, but you can Google it easy enough if you want to know more about.

The presenter spoke of the wolf being that wild animal we fear. St. Francis managed to tame that wolf, at least for himself.

And with that I realize that writing this blog is cathardic. I am not afraid of the wolf (confrontation/challenge). On the contrary, I think there are many who do not like me precisely because of that.

The leader of the mission also asked the question of those present, "Who are you?" I had no difficulty answering the question. With Judith, my girlfriend from the Old Testament, I rejoice knowing I am a daughter of God.

But, at least for me, knowing I am a daughter of God is not enough. I need to articulate for myself what role I play in this family.

I am the member of the family that agitates every now and again. I am the member of the family that rocks the boat a little every once in a while. And I do this so that my brothers and sisters don’t grow apathetic and complacent in their faith.

I am the member of the family who dares to say we must worhip at the cross and not worship the cross. I am the one who dares to say that sometimes people use ministry not as mission but as an attempt to monopolize the Kingdom, as if that were even possible. I am the member of the family that recognizes that sometimes people can use God as an alibi for not seeing and hearing the Crucified one in our midst.

Indeed, true converstion calls for nothing less that confrontation.

I am not the wolf. I am the member of the family who is not afraid of the wolves named "Challenge" and "Confrontation." And because of this, there are some who don’t like it, don’t like me. So be it. I grew up with these wolves fearing them tremendously. And now I embrace them lovingly.

I will not stop embracing these wolves simply because others don’t like it. What these folks don't like, indeed what they fear, is their own conversion.

And so there is confrontation. For if I stand in silence and watch as others are hurt then I am just as guilty. I don’t know about you, but I can’t own that.

Perhaps now, I can embrace this cross, that is to say, the one built of communication break down and disrespect. By embracing it I mean to say/speak out loud (or least, on this electronic parchment) that this communication breakdown exists and has caused damage to the Body of Christ. As a daughter of God I will always embrace The Crucified. I pray that by doing so and by speaking these words we can begin the process of healing and reconciliation for that is what embracing the wolf is all about.

Behold the Wood of the Cross.
Behold and Listen.
This Crucifix of San Damiano is speaking.
I only hope I am not the only one who can hear it.

Welcome to Liturgy House

Hello and welcome to Liturgy House. Here I hope to muse, reflect and perhaps even challenge others, especially those of us for whom worship, liturgy, the bible, church life and ministry are a part of the very fiber of our being.

Liturgy is life. What’s more, Life is Liturgy. Liturgy, with a capital "L", should reinforce and lock in time in a public way and before God that which already is (life). If a young couple is in love and they choose to spend the rest of their lives with each other (and they choose a church wedding) they make it a public and formal ritual by celebrating the sacrament. That is to say, through the liturgy. In a sense, they were already about "the work" of the wedding liturgy by developing their relationship. Their life is a liturgy, small "l".

This hypothetical wedding, and indeed all Worship and Liturgy, cannot and should not be planned in a fashion that is disconnected from the lives of the assembly who gather. Liturgy is more than just ritual. I repeat what I stated in the previous paragraph: Liturgy is Life & Life is Liturgy.

Sometimes, however, a worshiping community can be disconnected from what is going on in their own neighborhoods, in their own backyards. . . .indeed, disconnected from "the work" that is life. This disconnect can cause a disconnect in the work of Liturgy, a disconnect in the manner and fashion in which Liturgy is celebrated. Slowly but surely I’ll expound on these thoughts through "the work" of this blog.

And so, I have created this blog because there are so very many thoughts dancing around in my head. Oh, and somewhere along the way I’ll surely write about dancing in the Liturgy. And art and environment. And Music. And I’ll surely write on one of my favorite subjects: Cultural Adaptation!. . . .and before anyone starts writing and commenting and calling me a heretic, let say publically here and now that I can barely imagine a Dia Doce celebration without Matachin. For those of you who don’t know what Matachin is, what Dia Doce is, well. . .you’ll just need to trust me and check in on this blog every now and again!

Having said all of the above, let me simply state that it is sometimes just plain cathartic to write, to just release the words from one’s mind!

And when, in fact, we release those words and place them on parchment (albeit, electronic parchment), they often return to us with ideas from others. And so, the dialogue begins.

And isn’t liturgy celebrated best in dialogue, when all respond, participate?

Welcome to my house, to our house, to Liturgy house.
Mi Casa es Tu Casa.
Peace to all who enter here.

Espanol Aqui / Spanish Here

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About the photo: I have a particular devotion to Our Lady of Guadalupe. Can you tell? I've visited the Basilica in Mexico City several times and even had the honor of serving with my friends as guest choir. Yes, we'll surely discuss popular piety here at Liturgy House!