My journey to understand the controversy between Catholic musicians surrounding “On Eagle’s Wings”

Fall 2021

“You who dwell in the shelter of the Lord,” I sang the opening line of the hymn “On Eagle’s Wings”. My fingers ran in familiar patterns across the piano, finding the keys with ease as I played the arpeggiated accompaniment for my voice. I leaned into the seventh chord. “And He will raise you up on eagle’s wings; bear you on the breath of dawn.” My eyes closed as I focused on the prayer. The image of my Jesus lifting me up filled my mind. 

I had sung and prayed this hymn countless times before. But as I played this time, I was slightly restless.  The reality that this hymn had such opposite effects on people of the same faith—on Catholics—gnawed at me in a way that I could not ignore. I finished the final refrain and sat back, considering the debate about this hymn.

All my life I had known the tension which surrounds “On Eagle’s Wings”. Passionate comments in favor of or against it are familiar to my ears. The same question would always arise when I heard the opposing views: why? What is it about this hymn that people find so appealing or equally distasteful?

For the most part, I left these questions unanswered. Sometimes I would have a conversation with people who don’t like “On Eagle’s Wings”, but most of what I heard was that it’s too sentimental for the Mass or that they hated it so much it better not be played at their funerals. It wasn’t until college that I became actively involved in the controversy of this hymn and liturgical music. One day I was the same I had always been regarding this hymn: I loved it, others hated it, and I didn’t really give it a second thought. The next day, I had jumped into a study of Catholic music which I could never have imagined.

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“People come to God and they long for an intimate connection with Him. Songs that express that will be ‘popular’ in the sense that people will be drawn to the words and the meaning behind them.”

-Todd Flowerday, St. Katharine Drexel parish, Ramsey, Minnesota

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Taking the freedom I was given to complete any music-based project for my music seminar, I figured this was my chance to dive into the dispute encompassing “On Eagle’s Wings”. It sounded like a fun project at first. Then I realized just how deep and intense the issue of liturgical music in the Catholic Church truly is.

Settling down to what I expected to be a laid back and simply interesting assignment, I started with a quick Google search: on eagle’s wings history. This led me to a few articles, including one from America magazine, which tells the story of the hymn being written by Father Michael Joncas as a response to the death of his friend’s father as well as tracing how it has gained emotional attachment over the years. Armed with the basics, I moved onto the debate.  My next search—why do Catholics hate eagle’s wings—opened a totally different door. The results showed another article from America magazine, but one which has a focus on the controversy rather than the history. 

Amid the basic searches which were reeling me into the topic, I began to conduct individual interviews with church musicians and music ministers. It was through these exchanges that I was able to understand the main arguments against “On Eagle’s Wings” and continue my research. I noticed that, in general, the ones who were having this debate at all were music ministers in the Catholic Church. Parishioners who know the hymn—whether they like it or not—are much less aware of the controversy than the musicians.  Intrigued, I turned my attention towards this group.

Looking back on the interviews, I recognized three recurring arguments against the use of “On Eagle’s Wings” during the liturgy.

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“It really depends on how you’ve been raised in the Church. If that’s what you’ve grown up with, it’s not distracting at all, it’s just what Mass is like.”

-Emma Atkinson, student, University of Mary Washington

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Some argue that the hymn was written as a solo work. Others say it is for a group to sing, but disagree with the composer’s intention, as it is not feasible in that approach.

“’Eagle’s Wings’ lends itself better, I think, to a solo interpretation than congregation,” said Joseph Ciskanik, music director at St. Patrick’s Catholic Church in Fredericksburg, VA. 

All of them take the stance that the melody and rhythms are too musically complex for the liturgy. Having never heard this argument before, but finding it fascinating as a musician, I immediately turned to analyzing it.

The first thing mentioned about “On Eagle’s Wings” being a solo and too difficult for a congregation to sing together is the opening line (see Figure 1). The hymn is written in the key of D major, but the first note of the melody is a C#. This isn’t as intuitive as a song starting on a I chord (the tonic, which, in this case, is D). It is, arguably, more confusing, and more challenging to sing, especially since the members of the congregation are not all musically trained. I can understand, from a musical perspective, the complexity and unintuitive nature of beginning on a IV rather than a I chord. But I have never heard that it is too hard to sing from anyone who is not a church musician.

Similarly, the following verses are in the same style of verse 1—utilizing quarter and eighth notes, quarter note triplets, and the same chords—but they are rearranged so that it is not the exact same (see Figure 2). Hence, the belief that this hymn is not well suited for a congregation to sing. The inconsistency is once again confusing and distracting. 

While I can see the musical complexity compared to a hymn such as “Holy, Holy, Holy”, which is consistent throughout and easy to sing as a group, some who argue that this is too complex also hold the belief that traditional Gregorian chant is the most fitting for Mass. If “On Eagle’s Wings” is too complex for the liturgy and community praise, is the intricate nature of Gregorian chant, sung only by cantors and choirs, any different in terms of complexity and compatibility? Perhaps we are distracted by the details of the music and forgetting the bigger picture of praising God through music.

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“It is recommended to choirmasters, singers, members of the clergy, superiors of seminaries, ecclesiastical institutions, and religious communities, parish priests and rectors of churches, canons of collegiate churches and cathedrals, and, above all, to the diocesan ordinaries to favour with all zeal these prudent reforms, long desired and demanded with united voice by all; so that the authority of the Church, which herself has repeatedly proposed them, and now inculcates them, may not fall into contempt.”

-Tra le Sollecitudini, Pope Pius X, 1903

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While some agreed that the reason behind “On Eagle’s Wings” not being fit for Mass was the argument of complexity, others pointed me to Church teaching and documents which emphasize the tradition of organ and chant in the liturgy. This led me to the next big argument: the argument for tradition, as indicated in the official writings of the Church.

I compiled a list of the documents which I was directed to, and which I read diligently (see below). 

Tra le Sollecitudini, Pope Pius X, 1903

Sacrosanctum Concilium, Pope Paul VI, 1963

Musicam Sacrum, Second Vatican Council, 1967

Chirograph for the Centenary of “Tra le Sollecitudini”, Pope Saint John Paul II, 2003

Sing to the Lord: Music in Divine Worship, USCCB (United States Conference of Catholic Bishops), 2007

As you can see by the dates, these documents range from 1903 to 2007. All of these documents are focused on sacred music, and all of them are written by church authority.

When crowdsourcing for my research, the document that everyone pointed me to was that of Pius X. It seems to be held up as the ultimate guide for liturgical music in the Catholic Church, but I am not convinced that we should look at this document alone. The guidelines on sacred music have changed, as we can see when reading the documents produced by the Church over the years. A commonly overlooked reality is that all of them express the importance of tradition, and how the intention of contemporary liturgical music can remain the same—grounded in truth and acceptable nature for the Mass—but sound and look a little different than traditional chant. 

Is it enough to cling to one document when so many have been written on the same issue? Should we not be looking at all of the Church’s teaching, not just what was said in 1903?

Something that I cannot emphasize enough is the truth that none of these documents contradict each other, so there shouldn’t be an issue with heeding more than one. All of them point to the value of tradition, and the most recent teachings include the value of contemporary music in providing participation of the laity in the liturgy, as introduced during the Second Vatican Council. Perhaps most important, though, is the warning against division mentioned in each writing. If the Church is continually cautioning us not to allow music to cause a rift in our family, is it not worth our time to address the issue at hand?

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“Many other instruments also enrich the celebration of the Liturgy, such as wind, stringed, or percussion instruments according to longstanding local usage, provided they are truly apt for sacred use or can be rendered apt.”

-Sing to the Lord: Music in Divine Worship, United States Conference of Catholic Bishops, 2007

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Of all the questions to ask, inquiring about people’s thoughts on instrumentation fascinated me the most. When I asked if “On Eagle’s Wings” was more appealing if played on an organ rather than a piano, those in favor of traditional music said yes, without any hesitation. Next to the human voice, the organ has the seat of honor in the Catholic liturgy. But that is not the same as saying it is the only instrument with a place at the table. Similar to what the documents say about musical style, traditional instruments such as voice and organ are acknowledged and respected in a special way. But modern instruments are not eliminated from use during Mass. With all the passionate arguments posed to me claiming that the piano is unsuitable for the liturgy, I have not found a single document or decree in the modern Church which states that piano, guitar, or “On Eagle’s Wings” are inappropriate for use during Mass. When I ask this question, some admit there is no such documentation, and it is an opinion rather than a moral judgment. Others simply ignore the question altogether. 

“Music that sounds less like what you hear on the radio can kind of teach you to feel something you may never have felt before,” Ciskanik said. “But on the other hand, it doesn’t always taste good to people.”

Something that everyone seems to agree upon is that the music should not be what we focus o during the Mass. It isn’t about the music. It’s about the sacrifice Christ made for each one of us, and our gift of ourselves back to Him.

“It shouldn’t be distracting, whatever it is,” said Jordan Grinkawitz, a student at the University of Mary Washington. “I don’t think it matters what you’re using, as long as they’re not distracting.  Because at the end of the day, you’re not there for the music.” 

While there were not many with whom I spoke in depth about the importance of how instruments are played during the liturgy, one organist from Toronto agreed that this is a factor and that there is room for improvement in the way in which the music is presented.

“If we need to advocate for the organ to be the primary instrument, then we need to do a better job of playing well,” said Jeremy Tingle.

There are many opposing views on instrumentation in sacred music, but the Catholic Church teaches the same thing it has taught for years (with the exception that the piano and female singers were forbidden by Pius X but were allowed by the 1960s). Organ and voice continue to hold a special place of honor in the tradition of the liturgy, but have instruments such as piano and guitar been deemed inappropriate for the Mass by Church authority? What about the reality that the Holy Spirit touches each of us differently—some through Gregorian chant and some through “On Eagle’s Wings”? Do we respect individual paths to Christ as we should?

At this point, I was completely invested in my work. Before conducting these individual interviews, though, I had come across a Catholic music forum, which posted a variety of discussions about liturgical music. Skimming over some of the discussions, I felt like I had struck gold. I could tell that those who participated leaned towards the more traditional view of Catholic practices. Based on my limited experience at the time, I had noticed that those who were opposed to “On Eagle’s Wings” were typically advocates of traditional Latin Mass and music. Knowing that my views were not the exact same as that group, I hesitated slightly before jumping into this conversation. 

Becoming quite vulnerable, I launched a new discussion post, in which I described my research project on this hymn and inviting people to both have an online discussion and contact me for individual interviews. I thought I had an idea of what I was getting into, but I never imagined all that I learned and experienced through that exchange.

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“I think a lot of the opinions stem more from what the song represents than the song itself.”

-Jeremy Tingle, organist, Toronto

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From day one, the forum was almost always active. Church musicians and music ministers from all over the country contributed to the discussion. Surprised by the multitude of responses, I scrambled to keep up with all the comments, posting new questions and thoughts as I learned more about the topic.

At first, the debate was simply sharing views and experiences with the hymn. Most commented on how frequently “On Eagle’s Wings” is requested for funerals and that it is no longer particularly common for an ordinary Sunday liturgy (where it used to be found more often than at funerals). My questions shifted from inquiring about general familiarity with the hymn to more controversial ones: What is your opinion of this hymn? What is appealing or unappealing about it? 

The intense dislike and disapproval of “On Eagle’s Wings” began to come out into the open. Arguments that the hymn is too much of a solo, goes against traditional practices in sacred music, and that the liturgy is not about sentimentality were shared many times. With each argument, I continued to ask questions: Has the Church banned this hymn or instruments such as the piano from the liturgy? If people find a connection to God through “On Eagle’s Wings”, shouldn’t we acknowledge the beauty of the Holy Spirit’s work through this song? Is this truly going against Church teaching, or are we getting caught up in our own opinions?

Passions flew back at me at an overwhelming pace. I felt under attack with the arguments against my questions, claiming that the hymn was completely inappropriate for Mass, instruments beyond the organ were too secular, and hinting at my own ignorance on the topic. My questions were often left unanswered, as people simply hurled their opinions at me without stepping back to have a conversation. It hurt to read the judgment being passed to one another—onto other Catholics.

I, too, was growing increasingly frustrated. The argument had characteristics of a fight. Genuine listening seemed like a foreign concept, and we were getting nowhere. Sitting back to think through a response which was more personally hurtful than the others, I stared at my laptop in despair. There we were, a bunch of Catholic musicians, belittling those who view liturgical music differently than the lens through which we see it. Tears filled my eyes at the understanding that music—a gift from God meant to provide unity—was separating us from our family of faith. Common themes of the responses rang endlessly in my mind. “Too secular…not traditional chant and organ…the wrong way to worship…people disrespected the liturgy in the 70s…” This was so much deeper than music. People are upset about post-Vatican II practices and forgetting to distinguish the reverent from the irreverent responses of the council. It was the traditional Catholic view against the post-Vatican II view. Anger and discouragement overwhelmed me.

I began to wonder if my questions were valid after all. Maybe they were right, and I was just being stubborn. Could it be that I was being blinded by my own love of the song? Were my own painful experiences with the traditional viewpoint hindering my ability to see clearly? Was I just wasting my time?

I just sat there crying, fearing that I had only worsened the situation and there was no hope for overcoming the division. After a while, the tears ceased, and God pulled me out of the despair. I was able to shake the negative comments and remind myself that I was not wasting my time. There is a divide in my family, and I was taking one step to bring us back together. Even though the issue runs much deeper than liturgical music, it is through the music that I can work. Why shouldn’t I take what I know and love and use that as an instrument of peace and unity? It can’t be fixed overnight, and I may never see the fruit of my labor. But stopping for that reason would be giving into the devil, whose goal is to divide. 

Taking a deep breath and saying a prayer, I posted one last time, stating that this argument was proving my point and was not helping to solve the issue. After thanking everyone for contributing, I never looked at it again.

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If we can see this issue of liturgical music, as well as the traditional vs modern divide, then what are we going to do about it?

“Finding and fostering a place for people to get together and talk: that might be helpful,” said Flowerday.  “It seems to work within parishes. You’d think that with the internet, it would happen more often, but the reality is that people gravitate to like-minded others and shut out new or different ideas.”

“It’s about doing the best we can do because anything less would be disrespectful,” Tingle said.  “God doesn’t need us to do any of this.  It’s the least we can do.”

Do we love our neighbors, or do we judge them for preferring a different musical style or liturgy? Are we walking with one another wherever we are in our faith journeys, or are we degrading those who are not at the same spiritual level as us? Do we celebrate our common goals, or do we only see our differences? 

If this division among Catholics does not help us become saints, then it is time to change. What are we waiting for?

Published March 17, 2022, University of Mary Washington Weekly Ringer

by Jean Mondoro

Senior Writer

The recently approved Virginia bill regarding sexually explicit content in schools is not censorship but a necessary step in reinstating the role of parental guidance and decision-making in education. 

From as early as the 17th century, education has been viewed primarily as a parental responsibility. It began with private education within the home with supplementary schooling in public institutions. Over time, more control was granted to local towns and eventually state governments. Today, public schools have the power to distribute any content they wish, disregarding the tradition of parental input.

Based on the summary of the bill passed in the House, parents now have the right “to review instructional material that includes sexually explicit content and provide, as an alternative, nonexplicit instructional material and related academic activities to any student whose parent so requests.” Sexually explicit content refers to any description or image of blatant sexual actions and abuse, as defined in the Virginia state law.    

Whether educational materials are appropriate should not be a source of concern or debate in schools. Parents put their children into public schools based on a certain level of trust that they will be educated suitably for their given age group. When this trust is violated and young students are provided with books and other materials which include graphic descriptions and mature themes of sexual activity and ideologies, it is no surprise that there are protests and calls for reform. The role of parents in their children’s education has been belittled to the point that these materials are being used in the classroom without the knowledge and consent of parents. 

Not only is this disrespectful, but it can also be a way to force unwanted knowledge of sexual behavior and themes on teenagers. If explicit material is presented for a class assignment, students may feel like they have no choice except to be exposed to the content for the sake of obtaining a passing grade. With it being unfair to force sexually explicit content upon students, this force allows for a choice for parents to make a decision about what their children can be exposed to.

Regardless of whether the student is willing to work with this material or not, research has proven that early exposure to sexually explicit content is harmful to teenagers. A study in the Journal of Adolescent Health described the direct correlation between exposure to sexual content and resulting sexual attitudes and behaviors. It found that “exposure to sexual media was positively associated with general sexual experience, and risky sexual behaviors and was negatively related to age of sexual initation.” This is detrimental because, as this study references, “Several studies suggest that exposure to sexual media is associated with higher levels of unprotected sex, unplanned pregnancies, sexually transmitted infections, and one-night stands.”

Within the last year, there have been many instances of parents protesting certain material available to their children in school. One school district in Loudoun county unanimously voted to remove Maia Kobabe’s “Gender Queer: A Memoir” from the school library shelves due to the persistent depictions and illustrations of sexual activity between a boy and a man, masturbation and oral sex. Similar issues arose in Spotsylvania county when the school board initially voted to remove certain books and then overruled their decision. Considering the proven risks, is it not reasonable for parents to be upset when they find out that their children are being exposed to harmful content? In speaking out, parents call for the school system to educate in a manner that they can trust.

According to CNN, Gov. Glenn Youngkin’s campaign was largely based on promises to reform education, including greater parental involvement. Now that action is being taken, it is wrongfully being referred to as censorship. 

While “Gender Queer: A Memoir” was removed from the library in Loudoun county, thus censoring the content from the study body, this is not what House Bill 1009 establishes. Instead, what the bill creates is an opportunity for parents to have better knowledge and control over whether their children are exposed to sexually explicit content.

The new bill recognizes and respects the role of parents in education and the responsibility they have to raise their children to the best of their ability. It simply provides a choice where there was not one before.

Prior to this bill, students could be given course materials that exposed them to sexually explicit content, whether or not their parents desired that they see them. There was no choice involved. With this bill, the same materials can be used, but parents now have the legal right to be informed about the content of their children’s academics and, in turn, have a say in whether or not they are comfortable with their children being exposed to it.

Nobody is being forced into exposure to sexually explicit content against their will and nobody is banning any books. Rather, the bill offers a middle ground that enables an open dialogue between parents and schools and allows for parents to make important decisions regarding the education of their children.

Published December 8, 2021, The FXBG Magazine

I became a part of the coffee shop crowd—only to discover that my role in the scene contradicts a scientific trend of productivity

by Jean Mondoro

Halfway through the semester and overwhelmed with work, I decide to go downtown to Agora.  My usual workspace is at home or in an empty room on campus, but I need a change of scenery.  I order a cup of Earl Grey tea, choose a seat in the middle of the shop, and pull out my laptop.  Then, I proceed to look around and not make much progress at all.  Everything around me steals my attention from my writing.

Worn wooden floors creek with the movement of customers.  A bell sings, announcing each guest.  Music with a harmonica plays softly overhead as people sit silently with laptops or converse with one another.  The back door slams shut as some venture outdoors to enjoy the seating in the cool autumn air.  Brightly colored walls echo the friendly and welcoming environment of Agora.  The back room is a magnet for those striving to be productive, although a chess set occupies one table, indicating that perhaps work can wait a game or two.  That part of the shop intrigued me, but there wasn’t room for me back there this time.

It turned out that many of the people were equally distracted by the scenery. Of the 10 to 20 people in the coffee shop, two maintain focus on their work.  One appears to be on a call, pencil and paper in hand, taking notes.  Another, presumably a student, is fixed to her work on her laptop.  But the shop is small, and the tables are close together.  Two others are seated at the chess table, laughing and joking.  An elderly couple sits quietly with one another, and are joined later by a second couple, all of whom carry on in relaxing fellowship.  

I look around Agora and feel mostly satisfaction, but also a bit of uneasiness.  While this environment is peaceful and appealing, there is a sense that I do not belong here creeping in the back of my mind.  All around me are people who are here with the purpose to work and seem to be succeeding.  I, too, came here with the intention of being productive.  But I have yet to accomplish this goal.  

Snippets of conversations interrupt the words I am trying to write, and I end up focusing more on the sounds around me than the work in front of me.  Other customers who push their way through the front door take their time while ordering to converse with the employees.  Everyone I see has their phones readily available, almost waiting for an excuse to turn away from their work.  Witnessing more and more distractions, I begin to believe that all of us are here in Agora to pull out our laptops but not to actually be productive.

Glancing behind me in the back room, I saw the student again.  Her screen is propped on her lap, and she is holding a hot drink in her right hand.  Although her eyes never leave her laptop, I can’t say for sure if she is actually doing work.  Perhaps it’s her email or Instagram page that’s open in front of her.  Or maybe she is playing the latest popular online game.  She could be just like me, keeping her fingers ready but not doing the work which she appears to be doing.

Coffee shops like Agora have always seemed to hold this reputation of being the perfect place for productivity.  According to an article from 2020 in Coffee or Die Magazine, the coffee shop culture reaches back to 17th century Europe.  These settings were popular among the working class as they provided affordable refreshment and a place to share ideas freely.  By the 1900s, coffee shops housed discussions ranging from art and music to philosophy and politics.  Today, they are utilized primarily as a grab-and-go or a designated location for productivity.  The modern phenomenon of people being able to work in a noisy and busy environment has even gained the attention of scientific research.

Based on a study completed in recent years by Onno van der Groen, a neuropsychology researcher, the “coffee house effect” has been proven true.  This is the apparent reality that one focuses better and is more productive in the setting of a public coffee shop rather than an office or home.  His work shows that background noise plays a critical role in one’s productivity, and that is a defining characteristic of the coffee shop setting.

For years, society has seen this trend of working in coffee shops.  Some mock it while others embrace it.  Research like that of van der Groen’s even supports the concept scientifically.  If it’s true that the people around me–even the student I suspect of scanning Instagram–are genuinely being productive, then perhaps I don’t fit into this intriguing coffee shop setting as well as I thought.  

I survey the room once again.  A man has come in and settled down with his coffee and computer at a desk, tucked away between two walls, resembling a cubicle.  Another woman enters the shop, orders at the front counter, and walks out the back door to the patio, a backpack of work slung over her shoulder.  I am still gazing in awe at the scene around me.  The desire to be one of them resonated more powerfully in my mind.

I have always loved the idea of working in a coffee shop.  Now, minutes away from downtown Fredericksburg, I have that opportunity.  But when I am here to be productive, I usually am not.  I just can’t stop scanning the room–reading every poster on the bulletin board, wondering about every sentence I catch from random conversations.  I don’t know how anyone could focus.

As my eyes continue to gaze about me and my mind never stops spinning, I begin to feel that I don’t belong here.  Those around me are apparently focused on their work, and scientific research has proven the positive impact of a coffee shop environment for productivity.  Yet here I am, not being productive but still wanting to be in this place, with these people, as a member of this coffee shop crowd.  Maybe I am the only one here for the experience rather than the productivity.  I feel awkward and out of place.

But then I thought, what’s so wrong with being part of this crowd for the sake of being there, rather than to be productive?  I may not be writing while I’m sitting there, but I’m enjoying a good cup of tea and being a part of a scene which could easily provide inspiration for later productivity.  Coming to a coffee shop for a change of scenery and a chance to take a break from the pressure of work is sometimes the key to being productive later on.  Some go to coffee shops to get things done, and others go to enjoy the environment.  I shouldn’t feel out of place simply because my purpose in that setting differs from those around me.

Settling down in an armchair at the back of the shop, I hold my cup of tea in my hands and survey Agora.  John Denver’s voice sings “Leaving On a Jet Plane” gently overhead.  Two women and a baby are walking away from the community table as I enter.  A billboard next to the doorway is covered in advertisements of Fredericksburg events and businesses.  I hear a man on a business call and watch as two customers come in and out with backpacks, preparing for some effective work.  Many of those who frequent Agora with me are here to be productive, and are often successful in that mission.  Although I am not one of them, I am perfectly content to sit here with my Earl Grey tea and enjoy being a part of the scene.

This story was submitted to the University of Mary Washington Blue and Gray Press in spring 2021, but was not published due to necessary fact-checking unable to be completed before the last issue was finalized for the semester.

Published November 9, 2021, The FXBG Magazine

How I Learned to Embrace Taylor Swift’s Music for a Week

by Jean Mondoro

The first time I heard Taylor Swift’s Blank Space, I shifted uncomfortably in my seat.  “You look like my next mistake; Love’s a game, wanna play?”  It just didn’t sit right with me.  It was a message that seemed to glamorize a relationship without any genuine love for the other person.  She sang, “Baby, I’m a nightmare dressed like a daydream.”  I heard, “I won’t treat you right, but I look good.”

When sharing my opinion with others, I’m told that she plays on the reputation the media has put on her of being a “wild child”.  I can appreciate that she’s exaggerating for effect.  However, I figured that she gained the reputation through some truth, and that was enough reason for me not to listen to her music.  While the melody is catchy (I still can’t get it out of my head), the lyrics are terrible.  Mostly, I don’t see this woman, belittling what men look for in love (“Boys only want love if it’s torture”), as a positive role model.  I’m also of the firm belief that some of the worst messages in songs have the most addictive beats.

Recently, though, I came to the realization that perhaps I haven’t given Taylor Swift a fair chance because of this less-than-intriguing first impression.  I took a step back and asked myself: Why do I dislike her so much?  Is it just the song?  Could I find something to appreciate in her music if I got off my soapbox?  Because I wanted to find out what I was missing, I decided I had to give her another chance.

I downloaded a “This Is Taylor Swift” playlist on Spotify and started to truly listen.

The first song that came on was Willow.  As I listened, I found myself wanting to dislike it and looking for fault with it.  And so, the inner battle began.  It was so engrained in my mind that I did not like Taylor Swift’s music that I had to fight the inclination to dislike her songs.  But as Willow went on, I admitted that it wasn’t too bad.  It’s a sad song of an unhealthy relationship of the past, and I thought the musical and lyrical aspects flowed well, like the tree in the song.  It still wasn’t my favorite musical style, but I was surprised that the lyrics of this song struck me the most.  I reflected on how accurately her words describe a controlling partner when she sang, “Life was a willow and it bent right to your wind.”

Next up on the playlist was Champagne Problems.  This was an interesting one about a relationship that everyone expected to end in marriage but never reached engagement.  It wasn’t inherently bad in any way, but I just didn’t get it.  “Because I dropped your hand while dancing, left you out there standing crestfallen on the landing…”  I understand these lines as well as the other passages which describe the breakup and that “no one’s celebrating”.  But at the end of each stanza she sings, “Champagne problems”, and I don’t know how to interpret that.  Is she referring to him turning to alcohol after the breakup?  Is it a haunting glance towards what could have been (drinking champagne at their wedding)?  Or am I overthinking it?  Perhaps something to appreciate is how Swift can send a message complex enough that not all her listeners “get it” on the first try.

The two songs which followed were ones which I had heard before.  Shake It Off rubbed me the same way as Blank Space.  It strikes me as very classic Swift, and I couldn’t find anything that I liked about this song.  When she sings about not letting the negativity bother her, it sounds to me like she doesn’t care enough about what’s happening around her.  It makes me think that she doesn’t take life seriously.  Wildest Dreams is one that I can appreciate more.  I enjoy the way the melody flows and matches the wishful lyrics about a girl with a strong desire to be remembered by the man who walked away.  I found that I didn’t mind listening to it, as the longing to be missed is something that most of us have experienced, and so it was more easily relatable.

The listening became more tedious as I began to wonder if Swift would ever talk about anything besides these bad relationships.  Gold Rush, Look What You Made Me Do, Mad Woman…does she ever move past this negativity?  The media has certainly hyped-up Taylor Swift as this “wild child, bad girl”, an image that I believe she does dramatize in her music.  On the other hand, though, I still disagree on a deeper level with the messages being shared in these songs.  And while there’s more to a song than just the lyrics, it’s awfully hard to appreciate an entire song when such a major part of the story is something with which I disagree.

I was slightly discouraged.  When I began this journey, I truly did want to find something that I liked and respected in her work.  I knew I had my own stubborn opinion, but I also knew that I was biased and sincerely desired to come to a point of appreciation for things that aren’t my first choice.  At this point in my listening experience, I was beginning to wonder if it was worthwhile.  I had almost given up on it altogether when another song came on, and I was stunned by my response.

Evermore began to come through the speakers, hauntingly beautiful.  When it had ended, I voluntarily listened to it again.  The words are slightly heart wrenching, but the melody is a gentle reminder that there is hope.  It proved to me that she could write and sing in a gentler, more uplifting way.  Evermore sang of pain but also hope, and it is softer and more approachable than all the other songs I listened to.

In the gentle innocence of the song, I was reminded of my own personal upbringing in the Catholic faith.  My parents have taught me to recognize virtue from my earliest days, and song lyrics are no exception.  Most of Swift’s messages are not singing about virtuous love.  They contradict the moral compass by which I strive to live as a Catholic woman.  Listening to the piano fade away, concluding the song, I saw myself separated from Swift’s music by a wall of virtue.  Could my intense dislike for Taylor Swift be rooted in the virtues which have been established deep inside me since childhood?

I can’t seem to look past the vivid image Swift paints of a love without virtue, which so bluntly opposes my personal morals.  Perhaps this part of me hinders my ability to appreciate Swift’s music in its fullness.  And yet Evermore showed me that some of her songs do not possess the same direct resistance to those strong rooted virtues, and those are the ones with which I can connect.

Am I a Swiftie?  No.  Do I still have a strong dislike of Blank Space?  Yes. Do I have as little respect for Taylor Swift’s music as I did before challenging myself to find something to appreciate in her songs?  Not at all.  Believe it or not, I added Evermore to my playlist.