Charles Pilon's debut novel, Waiting for Mozart, is about music. Not Mozart's music, but the sometimes lovely, often discordant strains resonating throughout the Catholic Church in the aftermath of the Second Vatican Council (1962 - 1965). The lofty image of the Church as the people of God stands like a Mozart masterpiece in contrast to the halting melodies played out in a local congregation trying to embody the Council's ideals in flesh and blood.
The author is particularly well suited for his task. After serving as an ordained priest for nearly a decade he worked as an administrator of both urban an suburban parishes. He understands the dynamism of parish life, and still has a passion for implementing the reforms of the Council.
The novel is set in a suburban Twin Cities parish twenty-five years after the close of the Council. By this time many of the changes stemming from the Council have taken hold. The Mass is now in English; action for justice is considered an essential part of the gospel message; the Bible has resumed a central role in liturgy and life; once antagonistic relations with Protestants and Jews have become increasingly friendly and collaborative; and lay people are encouraged to take an active part in the liturgy and in all aspects of parish life, especially through committees (liturgy, education, social justice, finance, etc.) and parish councils.
Surprisingly, the dramatic resolution of the novel's central tension occurs in the first chapter. The rest of the book (other than the epilogue) literally chronicles the events leading up to it, notably the escalating conflict between Joe Burns, long-time pastor of St. Mary's Parish in Mapleton, and members of his parish council headed by Jim Jensen, himself once active as an ordained priest but still a dedicated Catholic.
Although Burns claims to be an enthusiastic supporter of the Council reforms, his authoritative tendencies and autocratic behavior have alarmed many of his parishioners. Smoldering antagonisms surface when Burns refuses to consider a report that he himself had commissioned some months earlier. He had asked a parish council committee to asses the personnel needs and salary requirements of the parish staff. However, when the report is ready, the pastor won't let it be put on the agenda. He says there is no money to implement what he thinks the recommendations will be, so there is no point in even discussing it. When parish council members raise objections, he overrides the chair, abruptly closes the meeting, and walks out.
This is the last straw for the stunned parish council members, especially those who had put months of careful work into the report. Rather than resign on bloc some of them decide to stand and fight. The outraged chair of the council and the intransigent pastor proceed to lock horns in a pitched battle. They lobby council members and other parishioners, each appealing to the ideals of the Second Vatican Council and to his understanding of church authority. Some of Pilon's best writing is found in these encounters, notably a scene where Burns deliberately fixes and eats a ham sandwich during a phone call from Megan Roberts, incensed by Burns' latest sermon.
Saner heads, especially Jim's wife Peggy and Joe Burns' friend and neighboring pastor Ken Halpin, attempt to reconcile the feuding parties, but to no avail. Eventually, the whole parish is in turmoil, and the palpable tension between these men builds to an almost unbearable level.
Fortunately for the reader, the tension is interrupted with vignettes that illustrate Joe Burns' softer side: his friendship with an elderly Native American parishioner whose spirituality links tribal wisdom with the Psalms, his care for a bereaved widow, his ice fishing outings with Ken Halpin, and especially his deepening friendship with Audrey Welch, the superintendent of schools in nearby Hudson, Wisconsin. The author's sensitive portrayal will resonate positively with many priests whose lives have been enhanced by such varied relationships. Nevertheless, Joe Burns with all his paranoid tendencies, manipulative behavior and demeaning language remains the pastor you love to hate.
Where does Mozart fit into all of this? In spite of Ken Halpin's explanations, the metaphor remains elusive. Suffice it to say that Waiting for Mozart speaks to current conflicts in the Church. It is also the key to understanding the author's message and his current commitment to fostering civility in religious debates.
This novel is particularly relevant today as rival church factions lay claim to the Council's legacy. It will ring true to those who lived through the exciting but troubled period a generation after the Council, even if some of the memories are painful. Also, those who enjoy crisp dialog, well-sketched settings, and an engaging plot featuring a seemingly no-win struggle between dedicated but driven human beings will enjoy this book.
William Coughlin Hunt, a peritus of the Second Vatican Council with a doctorate in theology form the Catholic University of America, writes from his home in rural Somerset, Wisconsin. For purposes of disclosure it should be noted that the author and reviewer are personal friends.
Pioneer Press
by Mary Ann Grossmann
What happened to priests who wanted to fulfill the ideals of Vatican II but also felt overwhelmed with responsibilities?
That's the question at the heart of this Roseville author's novel about a congregation caught up in conflict with their autocratic priest. Pilon himself is a former Catholic priest who remains active in the church, so he has equal sympathy for members of the fictional church council, who want to preserve the changes of Vatican II, and for Father Burns, who is worn out with trying to share decision making, raise funds and carry out his priestly duties. (The novel's title comes from some wise advice Father Burns is given by one of his friends.)
Although some of the novel's scenes are overly dramatic, Pilon does a good job of showing the underlying emotions of the characters.
A graduate of Macalester College in St. Paul, Mary Ann Grossmann has been working at the Dispatch/Pioneer press since 1961. She was the fashion writer, women's interest columnist and assistant features editor before taking the position as book critic in 1983 and is delighted to have covered the tremendous explosion of the Twin Cities literary community beginning in the late 1980s.
Star Tribune
by Jeff Strickler
As a former Roman Catholic priest, Charles Pilon wanted to write a book addressing the internal power struggles that plague so many congregations. But he knew that if he wrote a dry, scholarly treatise, only a few religious scholars would be likely to buy it and even fewer would be likely to read it. For the message to be effective, it had to reach the people sitting in the pews.
So the Roseville man wrote a novel, Waiting for Mozart. And any expectations that it's going to be a dry, scholarly treatise are gone by page 5. That's when an angry parishioner starts screaming at a priest, who goes berserk and tries to strangle her.
"It's not about priest-bashing," said Pilon, who stepped down from the priesthood after a decade to get married, but remained employed by the church as a business administrator until his retirement in 2000. "Yes, the priest has [control] issues, but lay people bring their junk to the table, too. Everyone is so self-righteous that they refuse to bend. We have to remember that Jesus was inclusive of everyone."
Pilon wrote about a Catholic church because that's what he knows best, "but this is not just an issue for Catholics," he said. "In fact, it's not even just a church issue. I've heard people in social service organizations complain about the same things. These are common experiences."
The novel focuses on an increasingly contentious power struggle between a priest and a few parish board members. The attack that opens the story wasn't in the first draft, which focused more on "inside the church" topics. "To me, as a former priest, the chapters I wrote about the antagonism and tension in the church council meeting was powerful stuff," he said. "But I came to realize that the average person doesn't care that much about it."
Because of his career in the church, the first question he gets asked by his friends is whether there is a character based on them. And even though they are composite characters, Pilon always answers, "Yes."
"They ask, 'Am I in the book, Chuck?' And I say, 'We're all in the book.'" he said. "This story is based on a lifetime of my own experiences working in the church."
Ultimately, he hopes the book gets readers to ask about how their own church is run. "I want to contribute to civil discourse about issues in the church," he said. "We have to put our arrogance aside and look for ways to converse that might be better."
MetroLutheran
by Pamela Twist
Waiting for Mozart by Charles Pilon is a story about the church, but also a story for everytone who has been caught in the very human power struggles of very human institutions.
The story features as its protagonist Fr. Joe Burns, for 19 years the priest of a Catholic parish in "Mapleton," Minnesota, a suburb of St. Paul. Fr. Joe was trained in the traditional role of Catholic priests, then re-trained after the advent of the Vatican II Church Council (1965). Fr. Joe fully embraced the ideals of Vatican II : "holiness -- and social responsibility -- for every person baptized, not just for priests." Vatican II ushered in the concept of parish church councils, of shared responsibility for parish life, and for the honoring of many different gifts of many different people to build a strong congregation.
The dramatic tension in Waiting for Mozart arises from two sources: First, the book's characters interpret the prescriptions of Vatican II for their roles in the Church. Second, Fr. Joe is not able to live out the central truth of Vatican II (and of most other successful endeavors) that: 1) relationships matter; 2) community means all of us; and 3) everyone has something to offer, and offerings don't just come in envelopes. The church is called to give people a place to use their time and their talent as well.
Waiting for Mozart wrestles with other questions that you will likely have confronted at your church, your Girl Scout troop, your workplace or your neighborhood organizations. At what point does the desire for perfection become the enemy of the good? How, as a leader, do you judge when to stand your ground and when to let go? Does being a Christian dictate certain behaviors and attitudes interpersonally, or not?
Waiting for Mozart is written not from one viewpoint, but from many. Pilon creates a realistic cast of characters. The story develops their individual perspectives. Readers will likely recognize themselves in at least one of the main characters, and maybe more. Having been on the losing end of a power struggle with the priest in my Catholic parish, I found insight and empathy with many of the characters whom Pilon introduces.
Pilon can get a little preachy at times, and his central assertions are repeated so often that halfway through the book I said, "Enough already. I get the point!" He is clearly a man with a mission, a love for the church and, perhaps, a little bitterness.
This reviewer found his standard opening disclaimer, "Any similarity in this story to actual events or real persons is purely and entirely coincidental" to be disingenuous. There are real people here. You have met them; you have been them. Waiting for Mozart may help you come to terms with them in a new way.
Pamela Twiss is a longtime community organizer and joined the Catholic Church as an adult. She is currently a proud member of St. Mathew Lutheran Church (ELCA) in St. Paul.
New Catholic Times
by John Quinn
Reading Chuck Pilon's Waiting for Mozart, I found it very easy to identify with the various characters who inhabit a Catholic parish twenty-five years after Vatican II.
In 1990 I was very much involved in a Catholic parish. I was not a member of the parish council but I was active in the parish.
In Waiting for Mozart's St. Mary's Parish, Fr. Joe Burns has his parish council, a relatively new development for the Catholic Church, coming out of the reforms of Vatican II, 1962-65. Since 1971 at St. Mary's, a mere six years after the end of Vatican II, Fr. Joe has been implementing the changes called for in the council.
For many members of his parish council, particularly Megan Roberts and Jim Jensen, the reforms of Vatican II were a manifesto for lay people (I much prefer the term "church citizen" to "lay person"), a mandate to do more than pray, pay and obey. For them, it was a mandate, recognized in Baptism, to be and become full, active members of the church.
Megan and Jim had internalized the model of Church-as-community articulated by the late Cardinal, (then Fr.) Avery Dulles. For them Baptism, not Holy Orders was the primary sacrament of ministry.
In Chapter 2 of Waiting for Mozart, Fr. Joe Burns is described as "a fine priest . . . ordained before Vatican II, but known for aggressive application of its directives." In a few brief sentences we have the story of Waiting for Mozart captured.
He was "ordained before Vatican II" and therefore so socialized by a Catholic world-view radically different from that articulated by the council. Joe Burns was "known for aggressive application of its directives." His was the responsibility of "applying" the directives of the council. This he would do "aggressively". And they were "directives", that is, something given him to implement, to put into operation.
In 1981 two events happend in my parish. On a Saturday I presented a workshop at the diocesan gathering for Development and Peace. In response to comments from the gathering that "in their parish Father would not let them start a D & P group", I suggested that it was neither the prerogative of the parish priest to allow such a group in the parish nor was it his right to deny the formation of such a group for the parish.
As I entered the church on Sunday, I was accosted by the parish priest, who told me that the day before I had stated that priests had no role to play in Development & Peace in the parish. Although this parish priest had not been present at the day long conference, he was adamant that those were the exact words I had uttered.
In late summer of 1981, I approached the same parish priest about the need for children's liturgy. We were a young parish, I had two children under five and I offered to take responsibility for running the programme. I was told no.
For the next two years I organized, worked in and trained others to work in a children's liturgy programme in a Catholic parish in another city twenty-five minutes away.
The pastor who would not allow that programme was a good man, a supporter of Vatican II, but had been socialized in his priesthood for many years before the council.
I am sure the story of Waiting for Mozart will resonate with many who, inspired by the process of Vatican II and the documents of Vatican II have become disillusioned at the slow rate of implementation of the spirit and the tangible decisions of the church's twenty-first ecumenical council.
Blaise Pascal, the French mathematician and philosopher said that an idea, once implanted in the mind, takes at least fifty years to see the light of day. Vatican II finished only 44 years ago.
Read and enjoy the novel and, as my oldest child prayed in leading community prayers during a Eucharistic celebration, "Let us pray for the leaders of our church that they will finally realize that Harry Potter and The Da Vinci Code are novels."
Born in Liverpool, England, John returned recently after teaching for 36 years as he and his wife Nora lived and traveled in England, Ireland, Canada, USA, Jamaica, Central and South America. He has undergraduate and graduate degrees in Social Sciences, Education, Religious Education, Philosophy and Physical Education.
A Review by Robert Derenthal
I finally got around to reading Waiting for Mozart and I found it to be quite interesting. I kept waiting for it to show the signs of amateurism that one might expect in a first novel. To my surprise it is well crafted, and has an interesting, attention holding story. Admittedly it is a bit of a "niche" book. Many non-Catholics might find it a bit puzzling, as indeed would I if I hadn't recently read several books on the Catholic church in today's world.
I don't know if I was supposed to, but I rather sympathized with Father Joe's emotional attitude. His behavior was often resprehensible, yet it was often caused by his feeling that the Chruch had taken away his control. It's certainly not the Church of my youth, and I don't know that I would ever be attracted back into it. From what I gather, most Catholics nowadays ignore a lot of its rules and the priests are caught in some difficult positions in the middle. You are supposed to preach birth control, but no one practices birth control More and more children and teens get little or no religious training that I know of. Most don't even go to church every Sunday.
While it was not the purpose of the novel to address all of these issues, it did artfully picture the anomie of the parish priest. I assume that many priests are capable of, and do adjust to Vatican II and other changes, but there are those like Father Joe who feel pushed out of their position as the center of parish life. It was interesting to note that despite his irascible behavior, he was always quick to respond to parishioners who needed his help, the widow of Father Joe's friend being a good example of his devotion to a hurting member of his flock.
I mentioned that this first seemed to be niche book, but in a way, that is what I liked about it. I wouldn't think that there is a large volume of novels available on topics like this, so I was very happy to get a chance to read this one, even if it did take me several months to get around to it.
Bob Derenthat is a graduate of New Mexico State University with a major in Psychology and a career spent administering psychiatric hospitals and groups of hospitals for a hospital management company here and in the United Kingdom for the National Health Service. An avid reader and book collector, Bob is a frequent and private reviewer of books at Amazon.com.
