There's nothing quite like a hard case to turn a seemingly abstract issue into something so egregiously visible that it becomes impossible to ignore. The death two weeks ago of the New York Archbishop, John Cardinal O'Connor, provided the occasion for such a transformative event. On the day of the cardinal's funeral – which was a media circus if ever there was one – New York's local all-"news" stations forewent their usual menu of pressing issues (cheerleading for Hillary, fretting about police insensitivity to criminals) in favor of soup-to-nuts coverage of the funeral mass at St. Patrick's Cathedral. Unaware of this change in programming, I flipped on the radio a few times and just as quickly flipped it off, as the voice of some Media Monsignor gave "color commentary" sickeningly akin to that of Bob Costas in another equally corrupted but less consequential context.
The low point came the last time I hit the switch. The recessional was being played: was it "O God, Our Help in Ages Past" or "Holy God, We Praise Thy Name" or "Faith of Our Fathers" or the "Cum sanctis tuis" fugue from the Mozart Requiem? Of course not! It was "On Eagle's Wings," one of the most offensive of all the "reformed" liturgical "hymns." In its words, the singer (i.e., the congregation), identifying himself with almighty God, congratulates the auditor (i.e., the congregation) on being saved: perfect blasphemous circularity! The music, which sounds like a bad Barry Manilow tune – is that a pleonasm? – only compounds the offense, especially for those not fortunate enough to be tone deaf.
Oddly, I found it very hard to shake off the surprise and depression produced by this aquiline encounter. The macroproblem of which it was a very small part – the corruption of religious music generally and the disposal or at least the shelving of a treasury of great liturgical music amassed over the course of a millennium – has great emblematic and practical importance to the life of the Church and that of every Catholic, even those (especially those?) who don't give the matter a second thought. The extent of the problem is evident at any Mass: when the song leader and the organist, with the pastor's approval, assault a congregation's ears and sensibilities with unspeakable music amplified to rock-concert decibel levels, something is seriously amiss. Why then was it so upsetting to encounter precisely the same phenomenon at the funeral of a prince of the Church?
It may be because of what it tells about O'Connor particularly and much of the hierarchy generally. His conduct in his final illness, when he bore his sufferings with dignity, forbearance, good humor, and grace, was inspiring and humbling to observe. There is every reason to believe that the Cardinal took an active part in the preparations for his own death and interment, and it would be wrong to regard such participation as inappropriate, given the importance of his office and the solemnity of his passing. But how does one reconcile the courage and stalwart faith of his final months with the celebrity spectacle of his funeral (can anyone doubt that he dictated its terms)?
If ever there were an appropriate use for the expression "cognitive dissonance," this is it. Did the man actually buy in to this bizarre event, part–music hall extravaganza and part–National Press Club bash? Did he, absent any need or compulsion to do so, choose "On Eagle's Wings" for his own funeral because he believed in the superiority of the new ordo or simply because he thought it important – pour encourager les autres – to go to his grave maintaining a fraud that he had stood by in his life? I simply don't know. Either way, it's pretty unsettling, and it leads one to wonder what Catholics might have to brace themselves against on the perhaps not-far-off day of the papal funeral. Appearances don't matter as much as realities, but they do matter.
About John O'Connor, I think it is not unfair to say that he had a tin ear. He is not the only prelate of the American Church to be so challenged. Maybe he genuinely liked "On Eagle's Wings." After all, it was reported in the New York Times that the Cardinal had specifically requested the playing of "Morning Has Broken," by Cat Stevens, to accompany the entrance of the casket when his body was placed on public view a day or two before the funeral itself. These choices, in concert with so many others, suggest that his tin ear extended to his understanding of the nature of his archiepiscopal mission.
Was it to assert, in the teeth of a hostile popular culture, what Waugh termed the "intransigent historical claims" of the True Faith? Or was it to be everyone's pal, everyone's favorite ecumenist, the arch-schmoozer, the Great Ingratiater? For sixteen years he seemed genuinely confused. He took quite a few firm stands, all of which he either danced away from or otherwise effectively undercut. It's hard to remember that O'Connor once was an outspoken critic of Giuliani's disordered private life and his alliance with sodomites and abortionists. His outrage at Terence McNally's abominable Jesus play was half-hearted and short-lived. The issue he got and stayed most worked up about – amazingly – was the Yankees' playing ball on Good Friday afternoon a couple of years ago. If only he'd castigated Clinton for his murderous Iraq and Kosovo adventures as he did George Steinbrenner! The truly astonishing thing is that O'Connor has struck many observers, Catholic and non-Catholic alike, as being a near-heroic figure, the Pope's staunchest American ally. Considering that his contemporaries included such men as Bernardin, Hunthausen, and Mahony, maybe the last epithet isn't so farfetched after all!
"On Eagle's Wings" is not an atrocity on a par with, say, the corruption of the Church's teaching on sexuality by certain prelates, theologians, and parish priests. But it's an important piece of the puzzle, and it's worth noting in passing that bad music and corrupted teaching both appeared on the scene in the wake of Vatican II, when Rome effectively abnegated its responsibility for oversight and direction of its sheep and lambs, a situation that has changed only in small degree to this day. It is also not insignificant that all the moral, doctrinal, and liturgical "reformers" and "Vatican II Catholics" consider musical "reform" central to their ongoing agenda. They are right to do so: the Mass is where the rubber meets the road, where over the course of years, decades, and centuries, small changes in detail yield grand effects. Did Cardinal O'Connor understand this? Did he care? The answer is not immediately forthcoming. But I have one piece of advice, respectfully submitted, for soon-to-be Archbishop Egan: ban the singing of "On Eagle's Wings" on pain of anathema; and while you're at it, ban the guitar from the sanctuary. Now that would be a giant step in the right direction!
Thomas McCarthy is a freelance encyclopedia editor.
