The first time I really noticed the Regina Coeli was not in its chant version, but in a rollicking rendition that may be peculiar to Redemptorists. Back in college, during my "junior year abroad" in Annapolis, I was the Saturday evening cantor at St. Mary's Church. Soon I was the cantor for the choir Mass as well, and as things went, I was asked to cant for the Triduum. Alas, I didn't sing the Exsultet as the choir director loved to do that possibly as much as I--and he was the choir director. But on the Easter Vigil there were a number of Psalms of course, and plenty else for me to do.
St. Mary's is an active parish with elementary and high schools, and also functions as a retirement home for the Redemptorist province. I met some wonderful priests there, some of them elderly. When religious priests are older, they are apparently asked to do less and less. Most of the priests had no official role in the Mass except as concelebrants. I was the only layperson on the altar, just me and all those priests. I kept thinking about the Psalm, "You have set them in the company of princes. Yes, with the princes of your own people." It struck me as very ironic that I as a laywoman, with no institution of any kind, had so many interesting roles to play while these good priests were pretty much silent. (I guess this betrays an error on my part concerning the dignity of a concelebrant.)
They were silent, that is, until after the Communion song. "The young ones" were still distributing Communion. I sat down, and the organ started up this highly raucous Regina Coeli. It really must be a Redemptorist setting--I haven't heard it before or since. The older fathers in their chairs came in loud on the first note and didn't let up till the end. It was the most joyous singing I have ever heard.
***
For most of the year, the Church has a tradition of saying the Angelus prayer, recalling the Anunciation of the Lord, at 6 am, noon, and 6 pm. But during Easter, we sing the Regina Coeli.
The prayer is addressed to Mary as she is now and forever, the Queen of Heaven. (You could call her Queen of Martyrs or Queen of Apostles, both of which she is, but why not just cut to the chase?) It is in the imperative mood, which is very beautiful: we are telling Mary to rejoice. Not really, though. She will rejoice whether we tell her to or not, but when we ask her to, that gives us a way to enter into her rejoicing personally. It's a little like an Afro-American congregation telling the preacher, "Preach!" It's not like he's going to stop preaching if you don't say it, but you feel better that you did.
Queen of heaven, rejoice, Alleluia
St. Mary's is an active parish with elementary and high schools, and also functions as a retirement home for the Redemptorist province. I met some wonderful priests there, some of them elderly. When religious priests are older, they are apparently asked to do less and less. Most of the priests had no official role in the Mass except as concelebrants. I was the only layperson on the altar, just me and all those priests. I kept thinking about the Psalm, "You have set them in the company of princes. Yes, with the princes of your own people." It struck me as very ironic that I as a laywoman, with no institution of any kind, had so many interesting roles to play while these good priests were pretty much silent. (I guess this betrays an error on my part concerning the dignity of a concelebrant.)
They were silent, that is, until after the Communion song. "The young ones" were still distributing Communion. I sat down, and the organ started up this highly raucous Regina Coeli. It really must be a Redemptorist setting--I haven't heard it before or since. The older fathers in their chairs came in loud on the first note and didn't let up till the end. It was the most joyous singing I have ever heard.
***
For most of the year, the Church has a tradition of saying the Angelus prayer, recalling the Anunciation of the Lord, at 6 am, noon, and 6 pm. But during Easter, we sing the Regina Coeli.
The prayer is addressed to Mary as she is now and forever, the Queen of Heaven. (You could call her Queen of Martyrs or Queen of Apostles, both of which she is, but why not just cut to the chase?) It is in the imperative mood, which is very beautiful: we are telling Mary to rejoice. Not really, though. She will rejoice whether we tell her to or not, but when we ask her to, that gives us a way to enter into her rejoicing personally. It's a little like an Afro-American congregation telling the preacher, "Preach!" It's not like he's going to stop preaching if you don't say it, but you feel better that you did.
Queen of heaven, rejoice, Alleluia
For He whom you merited to bear, Alleluia
Has risen as He said, Alleluia
Pray for us to God, Alleluia.
In the parish where I work as a cantor these days, I try to slip a little Latin hymn in after the Communion song whenever possible. In Ordinary Time I often slip in the Salve Regina. So far I've sung Regina Coeli at each Easter Mass. Sometimes when I'm singing I focus my efforts on the good of the congregation to the glory of God. Most times, that's what I do. I do hope that a lot of folks in the congregation, especially this congregation which is very prayerful, will be happy to hear a brief Latin hymn chanted to the Mother of God. But the Regina Coeli--I sing that for priests.
In the parish where I work as a cantor these days, I try to slip a little Latin hymn in after the Communion song whenever possible. In Ordinary Time I often slip in the Salve Regina. So far I've sung Regina Coeli at each Easter Mass. Sometimes when I'm singing I focus my efforts on the good of the congregation to the glory of God. Most times, that's what I do. I do hope that a lot of folks in the congregation, especially this congregation which is very prayerful, will be happy to hear a brief Latin hymn chanted to the Mother of God. But the Regina Coeli--I sing that for priests.
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