A Tale of Two Junes
Today I would like to shed light on what appears to be a largely unknown setting of the popular Catholic chant “O Salutaris Hostia,” written by St. Thomas Aquinas. We all know this hymn — but we do so in its other setting, known as “O Salutaris Hostia XI.”
I had never heard of this setting (X) of O Salutaris until my mother started listening to a Gregorian chant playlist she found on YouTube. For a long time, I had no idea what the chant was — I just knew I liked the music for its tender sweetness of melody. It wasn’t until the parish choirmaster passed a couple of copies from the parish hymnal to me that I learned that that chant I so loved was actually a setting of “O Salutaris Hostia.”
Two years later, now as an organist studying hymns, I decided to learn this hymn. However, I have been surprised (perhaps not so reasonably, given that I had been one of those people before) that many seem to be unfamiliar with this setting.
The text is the same as that used in setting XI of the chant:
"O Salutaris Hostia,
Quae Caeli pandis ostium:
Bella premunt hostilia,
Da robur, fer auxilium.
Uni Trinoque Domino,
Sit sempiterna Gloria,
Qui vitam sine termino
Nobis donet in patria. Amen.*
In English, the translation reads:
O Saving Victim,
Who openest heaven’s door:
The enemy’s wars oppress (us)
Give strength,
(and) bear aid (to us).
To the One and Triune Lord,
be eternal glory,
Who life without end
may give to us in (our heavenly) homeland.
The words to Latin chants sound very nice in Latin, and those of us who have been singing these texts long enough may even have them memorized, but it is nice to know what we are singing and why we are singing it on this specific day, such as the Pange Lingua on Maundy Thursday, or the Tantum Ergo every time there is Benediction. I say this not in the post-Vatican II, “we have to understand everything” spirit, but rather as a way to foment meditation as we sing these words. If we read the translation of Latin words we sing, we can think of their meaning as we sing them, and connect them to the occasion we are singing them for.
Lastly, I also believe that it is important for Catholics to become familiar with our treasury of hymns, especially in this era of Marty Haugen and David Haas so-called “hymns” (are they still called that? Or is that too traditional?). First of all — to paraphrase what fellow Catholic writer Professor
Anthony Esolen
has noted time and time again — we are in an age that does not sing. Back in the day, even in the age of illiteracy, you would have found that people could sing hymns, because they knew them by heart. These days not only do we not know hymns because we no longer sing as civilizations used to, but it is also highly likely that we know the wrong kinds of hymns (or, “somns,” as a friend and I jokingly call them, given they are more “songs masquerading as hymns” than hymns entirely — I will refer to them this way moving forward).
Many of us who now attend the Latin Mass but used to attend the Novus Ordo will no doubt be very familiar with these “somns.” Despite whether we may hate them or love them, it is highly likely we even know the words to them. There are many traditional, Catholic hymns that the Novus Ordo world is not familiar with, that also long-time attendees of the TLM may not know. I believe the reason why we know so many more somns than we do hymns even though we may attend the TLM is because the Novus Ordo is mostly composed of singing. No matter what Mass you may go to on Sunday, whether morning or evening, if there is a choir, there is singing all throughout Mass. On the other hand, at the Latin Mass, you only usually hear vernacular hymns at the end of Sung Masses.
(Now, you may think, “Well, this is a good thing about the Novus Ordo — they still sing!” Yes… but what are they singing? Given the kinds of hymns common at the New Mass, it might be better if there were none.)2
We must also become familiar with what constitutes a good hymn. For almost more than sixty years, Catholics have become used to church music that is, frankly, saccharine and more worthy of a B-grade TV movie than a church. Many Catholics who have transitioned from the Novus Ordo to the TLM will joke about how they are “traumatized” from hearing that kind of music every week they attended Mass. As someone who used to be in a choir during my time at the Novus Ordo, and who, as a pianist, would play somns both in English and Spanish, I sympathize with them.
I can only characterize the melody of setting X of O Salutaris Hostia as “sweet” and “tender,” yet, in writing this article, I hesitate every time I write those words because of what those words might bring my readers’ minds to associate them with — the effeminate, saccharine melody lines of the works of (again) David Haas and Marty Haugen. Because of this trauma, it is as if we have to re-learn that there is a kind of sweetness that is good in a hymn, and that not all of it is bad.
It is on this note that I propose to start an informal series of posts on Catholic hymns. I am by no means an expert either on chant or traditional hymns. My small knowledge arises simply from the fact that I love music, I am a beginning organist and as such studying hymns is very much a part of my life, I am fortunate enough to be friends with a real expert on chant and hymnody (the parish choirmaster) and, perhaps, that “once a church musician, always a church musician.” This series will be as much of an occasion for personal reflection on what Catholic music should be like and the disaster it has become during the past six decades — as well as setting the spotlight on certain old, traditional hymns I may be fond of or discover — as they will be meant to ignite similar reflections on behalf of the reader. This is a subject I am very passionate about, and hope you will join me in exploring. All comments are welcome. This is a topic I firmly believe ought to be reflected on and discussed by Catholics, who have been robbed not only of their liturgical, but also their hymnal, patrimony, and instead subjected to what amounts to an abuse of the word “hymn.” (I am also considering allowing guest posts from people with knowledge on the subject. If you are interested in contributing, please message me directly.)
All of that being said, I realize that what I meant to be a short post on a chant piece has grown to be an article-length rant against modern hymns. To conclude on the topic I began, below are two links to two renditions of setting X of O Salutaris Hostia.
The one featured in my mother’s chant playlist (which is the one I am the most familiar with and my favorite):
Another version I found with a lovely organ introduction:
Thank you for reading, and I wish you some very happy remaining days of the traditional octave of Corpus Christi!
* - Apologies for the lack of Latin grammar. I tried adding the accents to the letters, but for some reason the system does not show them.