Hear, O Lord, the Sound of My Call . . .

My book, Keep the Fire Burning: The Folk Mass Revolution, is the story of a bygone era in the American Catholic Church. The 1960s was a decade characterized by radical change in just about every field, from politics and race relations to education, science, entertainment, art, morality, and organized religion. One can only guess what would have happened to the Church during this time of upheaval if Pope John XXIII had not convened the Second Vatican Council (1962-1965). Undoubtedly, Catholicism would have survived in some form regardless, as it has for two millennia. But would it have weathered the Sixties as well as it did without the Council?

I believe the Catholic Church not only survived the Sixties but thrived. Since the Protestant Reformation, the Church had been in an apologetic “fortress” mode as a response to the confusing atmosphere of the 1500s. This was entirely understandable. The Council of Trent (1545-1563) closed ranks, so to speak, to defend the Church against the challenge of Luther, Wesley, Zwingli, and other reformers, who were attracting former Catholics in droves.

But 400 years was a long time to keep the walls of that fortress up. In the 1960s there was a new challenge to morality and, because of the nuclear threat, to humanity’s very survival. Pope John was only reading the signs of the times when he called for a Council that would open up the fortress windows. The Church must be the light of Christ for all people of every faith and nation, and the Council would be a model of hope for a world that was starved for Good News.

This is the context in which I wrote my book. The sacred liturgy was one aspect of the Church that felt threatened by the Protestant reformers. In response, the Council of Trent froze the Mass. Faithful Catholics would know without a doubt that they had entered a Catholic church because of the silent celebration of the Latin Mass, as opposed to the participative services of the Protestant congregations.

Because of Vatican II, the Mass was translated into the language of the people, who were encouraged to participate in the liturgy in a way that, ironically, Martin Luther would have approved. That meant encouraging Catholics to find their voice in song. Because it was the 1960s, that meant folk music.

To be sure, much of the liturgical innovation in the American Catholic Church came about because of the tireless work of liturgists, musicians and publishers who seized the innovative spirit of Vatican II and took it in directions the Council Fathers never envisioned. For example, the Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy spoke highly of Gregorian chant as having “pride of place in liturgical services.” The pipe organ was to be “held in high esteem” because it “adds a wonderful splendor to the Church’s ceremonies” (Sacrosanctum Concilium Nos. 116 and 120). There was no mention of folk music and guitars as the norm for liturgical music. The document simply spoke of “other instruments” that may be used at Mass. American liturgical innovators took those two words and ran with it. The sound of strumming guitars captured the imagination and energy of young Catholics, and their participation in the Folk Mass got them involved in their Church.

In history, the pendulum swings from right to left and back again. With the support of Pope Benedict XVI, Catholics who treasure the traditional heritage of the Church are today enjoying a renaissance of appreciation for Gregorian chant. The songs of the Folk Mass are now long forgotten and often recalled with derision because of its simplicity. Of course, that was the very reason it caught on so quickly in the 1960s.

All this is a long way of saying that I was not prepared for the reaction that I have received at my book appearances for Keep the Fire Burning. Not surprisingly, my audience is comprised primarily of Baby Boomers – Catholics in their 50s and 60s who were children and teenagers in the post-Conciliar Church. These are people who grew up with the music of Ray Repp, Paul Quinlan, the Dameans, the Medical Mission Sisters, and Sebastian Temple, among many other Catholic folk music composers. In other words, this is music that is no longer sung or heard, since the original recordings have been lost in the dustbins of Catholic school libraries and shuttered parish convents.

I begin my events by talking about the Council and the transition from the Latin Mass to the English liturgy. But I cannot speak of the Folk Mass without also sharing its music. That means singing and, to set the scene, we begin with some secular folk music like Bob Dylan’s “Blowin’ in the Wind” or Woody Guthrie’s “This Land Is Your Land.” With guitar in hand, I notice a spark in the audience as they immediately connect with these songs. We then launch into Ray Repp’s “Here We Are,” which brings a lot of smiles and laughter. Yes, the song is very dated now, but we have to remember that Repp originally wrote the song for his 4th grade CCD class.

Interestingly, the singing of Repp’s “Hear, O Lord,” has become the emotional high point, when the tears of the audience just start flowing. With its simple four-chord structure and heartfelt lyrics, it is clear to me that “Hear, O Lord” still resonates with an age group that obviously identified with the song’s theme of loneliness and trust in God. I find the reaction to this song very touching, and I have to be composed so as not to cry myself.

These are songs that have not been sung publicly for almost forty years. They are the suppressed expression of a generation’s search for God, and that’s valid. Is it good liturgical music for today? I will let others answer that question. But in the singing of the Folk Mass songs, many Boomer Catholics are reliving a time when their youthful idealism pointed to a bright future of endless possibility. To that, I can only say, “Amen.”

• To hear the music of the Ray Repp and other Folk Mass composers, go to the podcast page on Ken’s website.



• Keep the Fire Burning is available on Amazon.com.



• To book Ken Canedo as a speaker, contact him here.