Father Columba Kelly
Community: Saint Meinrad
Date of Birth: 10/30/1930
First Profession: 07/31/1953
Date of Death: 06/09/2018
In the late afternoon of June 9, his patronal feast day, Father Columba Kelly, OSB, monk and priest of Saint Meinrad Archabbey, died peacefully in the Lord after a long period of slowly but steadily declining health. He was a jubilarian both of profession and priesthood, and a participant in the Rush Religious Study on Aging and Alzheimer’s.
Father Columba was born in Williamsburg, Iowa, on October 30, 1930, the only child of John and Nelle (Dawson) Kelly, and was given the name John Joseph at his baptism. After completing his elementary education at Gehry Rural Independent, he attended Parnell High School in Parnell, Iowa.
He attended St. Ambrose College, Davenport, Iowa, for several years before transferring to our college. Invested as a novice on July 30, 1952, he professed simple vows on July 31, 1953, and his solemn vows on August 6, 1956.
Father Columba then went to Rome to finish his theological studies. He was ordained to the priesthood at our mother abbey, Einsiedeln, Switzerland, on July 5, 1958. The following year he received a licentiate in sacred theology from the Pontifical Athenaeum Sant’ Anselmo.
He then pursued graduate studies, earning his doctorate in Church music at Rome’s Musica Sacra in 1963. He studied under Dom Eugène Cardine, OSB, monk of the Abbey of Saint-Pierre in Solesmes, acknowledged as the father of the semiological interpretation of chant.
Returning to Saint Meinrad in 1964, Father Columba went right to work. He was assigned to teach in both our College and School of Theology, and was appointed choirmaster of the monastic community, a position he held for the next 14 years. His immediate challenge, of course, was to facilitate – in many cases, “invent” – the introduction of English into the celebrations of the Divine Office and the Eucharist.
As anyone living – and worshipping – at that time can attest, this was a formidable task from many perspectives. It was also one of his lasting contributions. The collection of the books we use for the Divine Office and the Eucharist contains close to 2,000 responsories and antiphons coming from Father Columba’s hand. Yet this represents only part of his contribution to the musical heritage of the archabbey.
Father Columba’s contributions to liturgical music and prayer were many, and they were not limited to his monastery. In addition to his many years teaching in our schools, he taught courses on liturgical music for 12 summers at St. Joseph College, Rensselaer, Indiana. Other summer teaching assignments included the University of Wisconsin in Madison and California State University-Los Angeles.
Through his many workshops to parishes and religious communities, and through the collections of his antiphons published by GIA and Oregon Catholic Press, his work is known by many cantors, choirs and parish communities throughout the United States. He will be remembered by many Saint Meinrad summer students for his two-week workshops on the theory and practice of Gregorian chant, whether sung in Latin or in English.
He also presented classes for Benedictine communities in Australia, and at Solesmes Abbey itself. Under his direction, Saint Meinrad’s Chant Schola produced a series of CDs featuring music for the Advent, Christmas, Lent and Easter seasons. Noteworthy also is his chant style setting with SAB chorus of the St. John Passion for Good Friday, published by OCP. A full account of the workshops, classes and presentations he offered would require a small book itself.
Known internationally in the field, Father Columba was a charter member of the Benedictine Musicians of the Americas, a member of the American Musicological Society, the American Guild of Organists, the National Catholic Music Educators Association, the Church Music Association of America, and the Composers’ Forum for Catholic Worship.
He was also a standing member of the Chant Division of the National Pastoral Musicians Association. In 2015, he was named only the second recipient of the Spiritus Liturgiae Award, given by The Liturgical Institute in Mundelein, Illinois.
In addition to his countless scores, Father Columba contributed to the literature on chant and sacred music. These include his 2003 book, Gregorian Chant Intonations and the Role of Rhetoric, which he concluded, appropriately, on the Feast of St. Gregory the Great; “The Organ,” an article in a book sponsored by the National Liturgical Conference and the Church Music Association; and, in 2006, his translation of and notes to the first volume of Agustoni’s and Göschl’s An Introduction to the Interpretation of Gregorian Chant.
Father Columba also authored entries on the Kyrie, Gloria, Agnus Dei, Benedicamus Domino, and Ite Missa Est for the New Catholic Encyclopedia.
His service over his many years of monastic life included his assignment as prior of the monastic community for six years (1978-84), and a long term serving as one of the commuting chaplains for Monastery Immaculate Conception, Ferdinand, Indiana.
Even after retiring full-time from the faculty, Father Columba, as adjunct assistant professor of Church music, continued to offer independent studies and specialized courses to our seminarians and theological graduate students.
Age and declining health took their toll in recent years. It was a struggle for Father Columba to attend Divine Office and common activities, but it was a struggle in which he engaged willingly, cheerfully and impressively. He seldom missed the Hours, the Eucharist, or the common meals, meetings, and recreations. He loved to tell stories, especially about the “times of Vatican Council II,” and he loved to teach and to encourage. And his love of the praise of God was matched only by his faithfulness to its practice with and among his confreres.
In dedicating his Gregorian Chant Intonations and the Role of Rhetoric, Father Columba wrote: “To the memory of Dom Eugène Cardine, monk of the Abbey of Solesmes, whose pioneer work and leadership in the field of chant semiology has enabled his students and many followers to deepen their knowledge and enjoyment of this musical treasure of Christian worship.”
Dom Eugène would have been pleased with Father Columba’s tribute. No doubt he would argue that the work and leadership of his former student, Father Columba, is deserving of such praise and recognition as well.
At the time of his death, Father Columba was 87 years old. He was in his 64th year of monastic profession, and was a few weeks away from celebrating the 60th year of priesthood.
The Office of the Dead will be prayed at 7 p.m. on Tuesday, June 12, in the Archabbey Church. The funeral liturgy will be celebrated at 10 a.m. on Wednesday, June 13, in the Archabbey Church. Burial will follow in the Archabbey Cemetery.
Remembrance of Fr. Columba Kelly,
Office of the Dead
June 12, 2018
Fr. Jeremy King, OSB
Back in 2003 when we were getting ready for the sesquicentennial celebration of our founding in 2004, a coworker at the Abbey Press gave me a bunch of old post cards of the abbey that he had collected from different sources. One he gave me to look at was actually purchased by his son at a yard sale in North Dakota. He bought a shoe box filled with all kinds of post cards but in the box was one of Saint Meinrad and it was dated November 24, 1950. The message read: Dear Mom and Dad, I am having a good visit here at St. Meinrad Abbey. I think this is where I should be. It was addressed to Mr. and Mrs. Kelly in Williamsburg, Iowa. It was signed by John Joseph Kelly. J.J. was to become Frater Columba on July 31, 1953 and Fr. Columba on July 5, 1958.
Finding this card was curious enough but on further scrutiny I realized that November 24, 1950 was the day my classmate, our Fr. Tobias Colgan was born. Call it Serendipity or whatever you like: Fr. Columba and Fr. Tobias were both to one day become Choirmaster and both were appointed Prior of our monastery.
My first experience with Fr. Columba was when he returned from Rome with a Doctorate from Musica Sacra in Rome. Archabbot Bonaventure sent him to study Gregorian Chant after his ordination and while he was in Rome, the most momentous event in the twentieth century for the Roman Catholic Church took place: The Second Vatican Council. Columba said when he came back and was appointed Choirmaster in 1964 he was handed a manila folder with hand written instructions about some changes in the liturgy that were already being implemented even before the Council closed. That was the beginning of what Paul Harvey would call: “The Rest of the Story.”
Columba sat down and in his notoriously bad hand writing began composing English Chant. He said he was left handed but the nuns that taught him made him learn to write with his right hand. His studies had been more focused in what is called musicology than composition. But because of the great training he had from Dom Eugène Cardine, monk of the Abbey of Saint-Pierre of Solesmes in France he was able to generate literally thousands of chant settings of the new English texts that the Vatican II church was to publish from the mid-nineteen sixties on down to today. Columba was of the school that the music should serve the text and a new text meant that the Latin chant melodies needed to be adjusted. (he would shoot me if I made that mistake!)
His doctoral dissertation was titled: The cursive torculus design in the Codex St. Gall 359 and its rhythmical significance; a paleographical and semiological study. When we were freshmen in college we each had to purchase his 800 page work as a text book for his music class. Imagine how excited we were! Columba was a genius and as is often the case –not necessarily a good teacher. Now those of us who can remember a slim and trim version of the man who died last Saturday might be able to visualize him almost floating down the hall gliding lightly on his feet. With his dark framed glasses we freshmen said he looked like Clark Kent. Well this mild mannered Iowa farm boy – like his comic book Kansas farm boy counterpart- became Chantmaster of the Universe. Columba was not built like Superman but he could make those he directed in schola soar to the heights. One time while directing us at practice he told us that we were belaboring the chants and he wanted us to sing more lightly. He then told us to stand up and we did. He then tip - toed and told us to do the same. We did. Then he said : Now bounce on our balls. The balls of your feet!!!
Columba was fed liturgical texts by Fr. Aurelius and before him Fr. Basil, Fr. Vincent, Fr. Samuel, Fr. Keith, Fr. Justin, Fr. Matthias, Fr. Austin and all the way through by Fr. Harry. Fr. Colman, Fr. Samuel and Fr. Tobias joined in the composition team and recently Br. Joel took some lessons from him.
Fr. Columba, Fr. Donald and Fr. Gavin team taught an interdisciplinary fine arts course in our college covering music, art and drama. The students affectionately called it “the three ring circus.” Gavin said he wanted to choke the other two more frequently than he would like to admit. Like I said before, he was not the best teacher. But he had tons of insights, tons of knowledge and was not at a loss for words when the right button was pushed. He just couldn’t say much without snapping his fingers, clicking with his tongue and whistling.
The thousands of chant antiphons, hymns and responsories he wrote were also accompanied by three part equal voice settings of all four Gospel versions of the Passion. The most elaborate was the setting of the Passion according to St. John which we performed at Indiana University in a concert setting with chorus, organ, speech choir, percussion and dance movement. This setting was incorporated for use as our Good Friday Liturgy until it was decided that we had to go by what was in the book. Oregon Catholic Press published a version of it some years later.
When Fr. Timothy was elected abbot in 1978 he removed Fr. Columba as choirmaster after fourteen years of service and appointed him prior. This might be construed as a promotion since the prior is the top authority next to the abbot but, as Columba told me, it was the beginning of the most difficult period of his monastic life. He accepted the assignment with typical humility and obedience. But he had to carry out very unpleasant directives and duties.
He continued to compose with Fr. Tobias as his successor as Choirmaster. However, he endured a good deal of criticism of his chant compositions from outside and inside sources. “Cheap vernacular ditties” and “heimgemacht kitch” was often the refrain and others on the chant scene said his interpretation of the Solesmes method was inauthentic. Eventually his work began to be recognized by the larger groups of church musicians in the United States and eventually in England and other English speaking countries. Francis Christian Brocatto, an alumnus of our college, wrote his doctoral dissertation on hundreds of those ‘cheap vernacular ditties” and the doctoral review team at the University of Minnesota acclaimed his work as some of the best English Plainsong ever written. What was considered as cartoon worthy chant by rather cartoonish critics gradually became honored and yes even marketable.
The Gregorian Institute of America began publishing his work and others also picked up pieces here and there. Then in 2005, Columba asked me to take part in the National Pastoral Musicians Association pre-convention meeting in Milwaukee to discuss the possibility of establishing a chant division of the NPM. Columba was scheduled to teach a workshop at Solesmes in France that same week and did not want Saint Meinrad left out. When I returned from the meeting I told him that it was good he was not there because all it would have taken was one more eccentric musicologist in the room and there would have been bloodshed. They were all in the same book but on very different pages.
Fr. Anthony Ruff of St. John Abbey in Collegeville took on a leadership role and over the years Columba has been a regular presented at each convention. Oregon Catholic Press then contracted with Columba and Saint Meinrad to publish Columba’s chants for the New Roman Missal of 2011. With the help of George Hubbard that work continues on to present days. In 2015 the Chicago Liturgical Institute at Mundelein awarded Fr. Columba a national award for his work. And this year in Baltimore the highest national award from the NPM will be given to him posthumously. I was planning to escort and assist him but now I will be privileged to accept it for him and our community. He said that would be his last outing. He was so excited he said: I can sing the “Nunc Dimittis.” And on Saturday he did, on his Feast Day.
Each year Columba gave workshops both here, in Texas, New Mexico and California. He rolled his electric cart at Pepperdine University in Malibu when Br. John Mark and former Br. Silas were assisting him and then just a few years ago on his way to teach at St. Joseph University at Rennselaer in northern Indiana, as he had done for numerous summers, he ran off the road in a construction zone and trying to get back on, rolled the car three times. This took its toll on him and from then on he was pretty much bound to the scooter.
I never once heard him complain or talk about his pain unless someone asked him. While he endured obvious disdain and snubbing from certain people, he never retaliated. I admit he did enjoy taunting one particular confrere only because he was being targeted himself. Usually he just endured things quietly, more than most would.
Last January, Mr. Lowell Davis from the Saint Basil Chant School in Houston and NPM, as well Mr. Adam Bartlett, from Colorado, a dedicated former student of Fr. Columba and who is now publishing himself joined with our Fr. Harry, Br. John Glasenapp and Sister Jeana from our School of Theology to see what could be done to establish an ongoing offering in chant here at Saint Meinrad. We hope that can continue this summer as well. With the help of George, Lowell, Adam and Mr. Ray Henderson of New York we will explore what can be done. They are all here this evening. Many of his other colleagues in Liturgical Music are as well.
Regardless, each time we monks come to an hour of office and Mass, the work of Fr. Columba will be on our lips. Probably more than most other monks who have gone before us, his spirit will remain with not only us here, with what we sing, but in many monasteries and parishes around the country.
Enjoy your rest, Fr. Columba!
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I added a comment before I began: A few years ago our Br. Lawrence died. He used to make our caskets and he was buried in the last casket he had made. This evening we sang the music that Fr. Columba composed – not just for his funeral – but for all of ours in the monastery.
“Imagine a farmer going out into his field to sow.”
I can imagine that. I can imagine that before he ever heard this gospel at a Sunday Mass, “the kid,” as this only child of his parents was called, had already been sunburned several times playing under that hot Iowa sun.
I can imagine that as he got older, John Joseph would hear Jesus’ explanation of this parable of seed and sower—and would agree most enthusiastically with Jesus. “Yep, oh yeah, that’s the way it is. You’ve got it.”
I can imagine the newly ordained Father Columba preparing his own sermon on this parable for the first time, just waiting to share his hands-on experience with seeds and weeds, farms and barns.
This fourth chapter in Mark’s gospel could well be the farmer’s chapter. There is this parable of sower and seed. And then, Jesus goes on to speak about how the seed grows. Of course, the farmer doesn’t need to know exactly how that happens. He just has to know when it’s time to bring in the harvest
As the gospel continues, Jesus talks about the mustard seed. It’s a tiny seed. But when it comes to maturity, the birds will find shelter in its shade. In one of the other gospels, Jesus will talk again to those who work the land, and to us. The lesson there is that weeds and wheat must grow together, until the owner of the field determines the right time to separate them.
These parables are about seeds and about the different kinds of soil onto which the seed is thrown. There is rich, fertile soil, there is rocky soil. There is soil that is walked-upon, and there is soil full of thorns. We know these different soils represent us! These different soils represent how we, each one of us, at different times in our lives—perhaps at different times each day—how we receive God’s Word. Sometimes we let it burrow deep within our hearts. Sometimes, it gets only skin-deep. Sometimes, perhaps, we brush it away and don’t let it take root at all.
The parable of the sower and the seed is about the seed and about the soil. And it is about the sower. It’s about a most generous sower indeed! This farmer takes his seed and practically throws it into the four winds. He doesn’t wait to see how it will be received before he sows it. He tosses it out into the field here and there, left and right. He believes in the power of the seed. And he believes that good seed will give growth even in less-than-perfect conditions. If God is the master farmer, the great sower, well: God knows the power of his grace. And so he throws it onto us, covering us. This is the seed, this is the grace, he tells us, that will bring us to maturity, and so yield a harvest far beyond anything we could ever ask or imagine.
When he returned from his graduate studies, Father Columba was given one of the most dangerous jobs in monastic life: the choirmaster for the community. Perhaps only the monastery’s senior cook would have as dangerous a job, trying to satisfy a bunch of men, who come to the table each day demanding nourishment. During his 14 years as our chef, our chief steward of sacred music, Father Columba prepared many a fine plate to nourish our spirits. He continued to “set the table of prayer” for us until his death. He left us quite a treasure—not one buried in a field, but one available and accessible to us and to so many.
On May 3 last year, we monks observed the 50th anniversary of the praying of the Divine Office in the Archabbey Church in English. We gathered in our common room after supper that night to mark the occasion, and to express our gratitude to the hundreds of musicians, cantors, and choirmasters who have served us. And we honored and thanked especially Father Columba, for his patient, persistent, generous, and grace-ful sowing of the seeds of God’s word into the thousands of melodies, hymns, antiphons, and responsories that continue to offer such rich bounty at our table of prayer.
Mixing Father Columba’s prayer and work with Jesus’ farming parables makes a pretty good hybrid, I think. In both instances, we’re talking, of course, about a sower who knew what he was doing. We’re talking about seed that has high potential for growth. We’re talking about the persistent and generous self-giving of the farmer that produces a harvest to nourish us year after year.
Soon, we will accompany Father Columba’s mortal remains to a most sacred field. It is the field all of us will visit someday, to await the Lord’s final harvest, the resurrection of our bodies. As we leave that field today, Father Columba will continue to accompany us. Indeed, think of how many notes he has left us on how to praise the Lord, how to turn to him in our joys and our sorrows, how to celebrate the great feasts of the liturgical year and, most often, simply how to persevere, gently, lovingly, through very ordinary time.
Imagine a farmer going out to sow. Imagine the patience of that farmer—not knowing how, precisely, the seed would grow, but trusting that it would. Imagine the farmer’s generosity—willing to risk throwing it all onto this field with so many kinds of soil, in the hope that some of it would take root and produce thirty, and sixty, and even a hundred-fold. Let us sing a new song unto the Lord. We do, indeed, have ears to hear, and voices with which to sing.