Funeral music.

 I started to write this on a thread about funeral music on Facebook.  The comment was becoming a little long and so I moved it over here to complete it.  It began with someone discussing the music for a funeral.  I commented that her choices were an improvement over the hot mess that was the music at my mother's funeral.  The original poster then commented that I needed to be more aggressive with the church, and here begins my response:

It wasn't the church, or, it wasn't just the church I had to be aggressive with: I had to be much, much  more aggressive with my sisters. 

Before I continue, let me point out that my sisters who insisted on planning the funeral also insisted that my brother and I have some input and then ignored everything my brother and I had to say.  Of the four of us, I was at that time the only regular church goer.  One of my sisters spent much of the time planning opining about how she preferred the United Church's approach to funerals.  But, as I said, the only one of us who knew how the Mass should be done was outvoted and shut down from the beginning.

Before I knew I was to be shut down and out completely, I began making arrangements with my organist, who volunteered to do the music at my mother's funeral- at her parish- for free. I rang up my sisters who were starting to take control and told them that I would handle the music, and that I would be using my organist. They told me that, by the rules of that church, anyone using that church had to use their organist for weddings and funerals. This is a common practice amongst some churches. Catholic churches routinely underpay their musicians for the Masses, and make it up to them by giving them a monopoly on funerals and weddings, which are the real cash cows. I don't have a real problem with a church doing this, however, if they decide to go this route, it is heavily incumbent upon them to hire a good or at least competent musician and singer. They didn't. The 'organist they hired wasn't. which wasn't that big a problem as the organ wasn't, either.  It was an electronic keyboard, which he had permanently set to 'glass harmonica.' My sisters at least recognized that that mediocre, saccharine sound would not do for mother's funeral, but they still had to twist his arm to set that cheap keyboard to 'piano'. He also has a terrible singing voice (even though he was trained by St Michael's choir school) and, when singing, his voice bears a more than passing resemblance to Elmer Fudd.

We were allowed to have another singer, and before I had told my sisters that I would handle it, they had asked the daughter of a friend of mother's, who frequently handled the singing at that parish, to sing for mother's funeral. I told them: no problem. I'll pay the 'organist' his usual fee to not play at all, so he won't lose any money, and I'll explain to what's her face that I'll handle the singing myself. Shouldn't be a problem, right? Wrong.  Oh no, they said. No no no no no.  These were mother's friends.  They liked mother very much.  It would hurt their feelings for them to not sing at mother's funeral, couldn't I see that?  Mother wouldn't want hurt feelings at her funeral, would she?

I confess myself somewhat confused by this chain of... well, whatever it was, it was not logic, at any rate.  What on earth did 'feelings' have to do with this? Why on earth would they enter into any discussion on this matter?  But, since feelings have entered into this discussion, I am at a complete loss to understand why or how the feelings of those two friends of mother's were more important that the feelings of her son.  

At a loss, I say, but not surprised.  To have been surprised at that would have been to have forgotten our history as a family.

The discussion went on and, the long and the short of it was that they would not tell the singer and organist, whom they would never see again after the funeral, to not play or sing, but I would have to tell my organist, with whom I must work, week in, week out,  that his extremely generous offer was to be declined.

My sisters did ask me if I was aware of my mother's choices in music.  I told them I was, told them what she had told me, and they proceeded to ignore it utterly, but that part I didn't find out until the funeral and the music started playing.

I don't remember what the introit was, but they played Panis Angelicus, which she did like, as an offertory, and the Bach/Gounod  Ave Maria (she preferred Schubert's, and I had told them that) for communion.  The recessional was, I am sorry to say, "On Eagle's Wings".  I think I groaned out loud, because my eldest sister, who was in the pew in front of me, hissed at me "Shut up! She liked this piece, so shut your mouth!" Mother had mentioned that song to me, back when the folk choir played it about every other week for Mass,  but what she had to say about it was this: "It's not as bad as some of the other things they sing."

Among the hymns she had wanted was one I started practicing with my organist for this occasion: Daily, Daily Sing to Mary.  I probably would have used Panis Angelicus for the Communion, and Ave Maria for the cleansing.  For an Introit I would have intoned Requiem Aeternam, and probably would have used In Paradisum for the recessional.  But that was what I might have done, which counts for nothing.

I can't remember which mass setting they used, except that it was done badly.  The organist, who had been instructed not to sing, did in fact sing at one point.  As I said, Elmer Fudd.  The main singer's singing was about average- she mostly hit the right notes.

I suppose I should say it could have been worse.  They could have gone with Carey Landry.  But it should have been better.