Religion: Troubadours for God

Some of the women worshipers wore hot pants. Some of the men wore plush velvet jackets. Braless girls leaned languorously against the pews; here and there bright balloons announced that “God Is Love.” Then the band, loud and rocking, struck up the entrance hymn: “When the moon is in the seventh house,/ And Jupiter aligns with Mars . . .” On cue, a blue-gowned verger cleared the way to the altar for the cross bearer and celebrants of the Mass. Hair had come to the solemn, vaulted sanctuary of Manhattan’s Episcopal Cathedral of St. John the Divine.

The occasion was the third anniversary of the Broadway opening of the musical that has been run out of Acapulco and censored in Munich. Its more controversial scenes of nudity and frank language were notably missing, and the six Hair numbers were intended to be only a framework for a Mass in F written by Hair Composer Gait MacDermot. Unfortunately, except for a soul-styled Lord’s Prayer sung by Hair Star Delores Hall, the Mass music was over-powered rather than complemented by the Hair numbers.

The rest of the occasion was more of a happening than a traditional liturgy. Indeed, though MacDermot had written a Credo, it was dropped in deference to non-Christians present. In a brief speech, FCC Commissioner Nicholas Johnson, a Unitarian, dwelt on the fact that the day was both Mother’s Day and Buddha’s birthday. Harvard Theologian Harvey Cox, in the main sermon, declared that Hair was an appropriately Christian blend of “innocence and suffering.” One well-dressed family munched on hamburgers, malts and French fries during the Mass. Some worshipers were perturbed by it all, but they, and a lot of others, stayed. The attendance—or box office—at morning High Mass the same day had been about 1,000. For the Hair Mass, an estimated 7,000 jammed into the cathedral. Over 2,500 received the Communion bread and wine—including several Jews.

Rejoice Mass. The service was probably the splashiest rock Mass yet offered, but the phenomenon is hardly new; several Hair selections are standard favorites in college-campus services. Some critics even see a reverse trend. Music Professor Carl Schalk observed in the Christian Century last December that “we are witnessing a decline in interest in liturgical flamboyance . . . Congregations are finding that they can be easily bored with pseudo folk hymns and rock Masses.” Others, like Dr. Donald Hustad of Southern Baptist Theological Seminary in Louisville, call it a “real revolution” that is far from over.

For evangelical churches come lately to the genre, that is certainly true. Last weekend, for instance, a number of church-sponsored folk groups, most of them evangelical, gathered in Wilmore, Ky., for a “Christian Folk Festival.” There are dozens of other groups traveling the U.S. as troubadours for God. Among them: seven Arizona State University students, led by an Episcopal priest, who visit any church that will have them to perform a rock “Rejoice Mass”; four Roman Catholic Paulist seminarians, billed as the Roamin’ Collars, who specialize in giving workshops in liturgical music as well as concerts.

Jazz also persists in many churches, while others are introducing an exotic flavor. Manhattan’s St. Patrick’s Cathedral recently celebrated a new African Mass, The Royal Mass of Mogho, which follows the lead of the Congolese Missa Luba in marrying classical liturgy to traditional African music.

One church has discovered that a variety of music can attract worshipers. Nine years ago, when it was designated the cathedral for the new Roman Catholic diocese of Oakland, Calif., the inner-city parish of St. Francis de Sales included little more than a commercial section of downtown. But one young curate, Father Don Osuna, has since been wisely encouraged to improve the liturgy. Now, twice each Sunday, the music runs the scale between such unlikely extremes as Gregorian chant and rock. On one recent Sunday, the mixture embraced both Bach’s Air for the G-String and Amazing Grace. On another it included a Haydn trio, Bob Dylan’s The Times, They Are AChangin’ and Luther’s A Mighty Fortress Is Our God. Worshipers come from all over the Bay Area. The Sunday collection, once a mere $100, is now up to $800 a week.

Poignancy of Sacrifice. While commercial music invades the churches, religion is invading the sanctuaries of secular music. The leading example of such Cross-pollination is Jesus Christ Superstar, a bestselling album increasingly used as a source for new liturgical music. This week in Manhattan’s off-Broadway Cherry Lane Theater, religion takes another step into musical theater with a rambunctious musical called Godspell, which suggests what the best of medieval morality plays must have been like. Conceived and directed by Carnegie Tech Drama Student John-Michael Tebelak, written and scored by Carnegie Tech Alumnus Stephen Schwartz, a Jew, and performed mostly by Carnegie Tech drama students, Godspell is nothing less than a musical version of St. Matthew’s Gospel. Tebelak and company concentrate mostly on Jesus’ teachings rather than his Passion, telling the familiar parables with a barrage of comic and burlesque styles. But the players also evoke the poignancy of Jesus’ sacrifice. At a benefit performance last week, when Jesus (played by Stephen Nathan) said farewell to his Apostles, many in the audience were weeping. One Roman Catholic, leaving the theater, said that the show was “the best Mass I’ve been to in years.” That, of course, brings theater back where it started, in the temple.