All together now.

"Who sings in church, prays twice." That quote was one I heard frequently from my mother when I was growing up, and in view of the fact that it was she who had to starch and iron the Buster Brown collar favored by boy's choirs in that era, she was entitled. But she needn't have motivated me thus because I liked singing in the choir. I even like singing in church today. (But more on that later.)

In those pre-Vatican II days, there wasn't a whole lot of singing at what used to be called Low Masses (the so-called children's Masses excepted), but all stops were often pulled out for High Masses. In addition to the aforementioned boys' choir, there were adult choirs (as there are in some churches today), and in churches blessed with gifted choir directors and enough good voices, the result could be glorious. The great Masses would make the church walls reverberate.

But the reforms of Vatican II wisely pointed out that the Mass was not a concert and that when it became necessary for the celebrant to be seated on the side of the altar while the choir engaged in beautiful pyrotechnics for the Gloria and Credo, the meaning of the sacrificial meal was obscured, if not lost.

So, the message was, "Let's get the whole congregation involved." But how? That's a question that still has not been answered satisfactorily.

Let me say immediately that my evidence of current congregational singing practices in our U.S. Catholic churches is strictly anecdotal. It might be useful if the Lilly Foundation (or some other group with bucks) would survey singing practices with some precision, but, barring that, our congregational singing experiences range from good through indifferent to bad with the largest concentration in the middle. And who can doubt that the hymns themselves are the biggest part of the problem?

The hymns available to U.S. Catholic churches seem to fall into three categories: those we have borrowed from our Protestant friends, those carried over from the "old church," and the new breed written by contemporary composers.

Hymns borrowed from the Protestant churches are, like the others, a mixed bag. To my knowledge, most seem to be in the poetic form we call "apostrophe," usually praising God and his works. Some are quite moving, even occasionally thrilling. A personal favorite is "How Great Thou Art." Martin Luther's "A Mighty Fortress Is Our God" is another bell ringer despite its militaristic theology and pace its questionable theology. "Amazing Grace" is not only meaningful but also blessedly easy to sing.

On the other hand, the Protestant inventory includes hymns such as "Crown Him with Many Crowns" whose words are downright silly.

The hymns acquired from our own "old church" are a mixed bag indeed. Some, such as "Mother Dear, Oh Pray for Me," should be labeled as dangerous to the health of even the marginally diabetic. ("I wander in a fragile barque o'er life's tempestuous sea" - indeed!) Others with unobjectionable lyrics are set to nursery-rhyme music.

But some familiar Catholic hymns continue to be loved, and deservedly so. A large turnout of congregational voices is assured when "Holy God, We Praise Thy Name" is sung, and there are at least a handful of other golden oldies that continue to belong in our repertory.

The new breed of Catholic hymns is also something of a mixed bag. Most, to their credit, are biblically rooted and many have both beautiful words and lyrics. (I have already put in a request that "On Angels' Wings" and "I Am the Bread of Life" be sung at my funeral.) Hymns such as "Here I Am, Lord" and "Sing a New Song" deserve praise as do numerous others, including a personal favorite, "Let There Be Peace on Earth."

Here, too, I wonder why we do not (again, to my knowledge) more often hear some of the beautiful songs from the musical "Godspell," such as "Prepare Ye the Way of the Lord," "Bless the Lord," and especially "Day by Day," in our churches.

Regrettably, some of the new hymns seem to get entangled in their own lyrics and are want to produce congregational voices that trail off because the singers don't know where the music is going next. But our new breed of hymnodists has already produced much good stuff - if only our parishes will use it - and it should not surprise if more of the same is created.

Our Protestant friends, of course, have a much stronger tradition of congregational singing. I have often passed Protestant churches in the warm months and envied the full-bodied singing emerging from the open windows. But given the right hymns and the will, there's no reason why we Catholics cannot deserve envy also.