The Recovering Choir Director

Romy’s latest comment is worthy of its own place here, as well as additional thoughts.

She writes:

i came to understand during my time in the choir in france that st augustin is right : qui bene cantat, bis orat. (he who sings well, prays twice.) and the mere act and art of singing IS a prayer, even when we are not aware we are praying. not all prayer is contemplative.

Agreed.

Additionally, I will say that a more ‘perfect’ sung prayer is one sung such that the singer is not worried about getting the notes right (not that getting the notes right isn’t important—it is very important) but instead is contemplating the words themselves and what they evoke, and through his presentation invites others to similar contemplation.

By example (and note, I am speaking from experience here): the post on which romy comments highlights the difficulty of the Offertory chant “Precatus est Moyses” as being perhaps detrimental to a chorister’s contemplation of the Scripture verse. And at the outset, I would believe this is true for most singers. It is akin to a baby learning how to speak, crawl, or walk: or, in the case of this chant, Moses’ trying to overcome his own speech impediment when addressing the Lord.

Precátus est Moyses in conspéctu Dómini Dei sui, et dixit.
Precátus est Moyses in conspéctu Dómini Dei sui, et dixit:

However, once a singer has gotten past the linguistic and musical barriers presented by this chant—in other words, once the singer begins to grasp the meaning and context of the words and can sing the melody without undue effort—he has the opportunity to transport himself to Mount Sinai, to put himself into the sandals of Moses, to literally plead with the Lord to spare us as we traverse our own exodus, however willingly or unwillingly.

Quare, Dómine, irásceris in pópulo tuo?
Parce irae ánimae tuae:

And because the music is internalized, it can then serve to intensify the singer’s experience, our own souls’ connection with that event, and our own plea for salvation.

meménto Abrahám, Isaac et Iacob,
quibus iurásti dare terram fluéntem lac et mel.

Ultimately, it serves to connect us to the Author of the texts that we sing, the Creator of (among others) the anonymous composers, and the Savior whose mercy invites us to sing in his Eucharistic presence.

Et placátus factus est Dóminus de malignitáte,
quam dixit fácere pópulo suo.

Granted, many people may not choose to try to reach this level of facility with the chant so as to enter more deeply into the liturgy. But for those who are able, it is one intense experience. I would say even a “mere” active listening can be intense when the listener is attuned to the spirit of the liturgy.

To be able to vocalize and contemplate at the same time may not be all that difficult, especially with chants and songs familiar with the singer.

As a start, imagine yourself singing with the angelic court when you sing the Sanctus—after all, the prefaces say that we, in fact, do just that. (If it makes things easier, you could even imagine the cherubs smirking at the low quality of the Mass setting—not that they would necessarily do that.) Then go to a spoken Mass and determine for yourself if something’s lacking.