the72: Molly Mattingly - Living the Questions

I am a third-generation church musician on my mom’s side and second-generation on my dad’s side. I’m the first to see music ministry as my vocation and career.

I grew up in a church choir. My mom and dad’s ensemble for the 5:00pm Mass at our parish was a close-knit bunch. Members were godparents to each other’s children. Rehearsals happened in our living rooms, as we kids played in the basement. (And our parents were surprised when some of those kids grew up to be music teachers and church musicians. What did they expect?)

I started piano lessons at age 8 with the accompanist for one of the other parish choirs. At 9, I was in my grade school’s choir. By 12, I was accompanying a few songs at the 5:00pm Mass and playing communion reflections at weekly school Masses. By 16, I was playing and singing in my mom and dad’s group, as well as my high school’s choirs, liturgical ensemble, and annual musical revue fundraiser. Music was still just a hobby I enjoyed.

Then, I decided to audition for music schools for college. I thought, “Maybe it is time to focus on this thing that I love doing and have been calling a hobby, and see where it takes me. If I don’t get in, I can study something else I enjoy.” I was accepted to the School of Music at Ithaca College, majored in music education and music theory, and practiced piano a lot.

I got involved with the Ithaca College Catholic Community (ICCC), because at the freshmen welcome Mass they said they needed pianists. People at the ICCC  became some of my best friends. In my first non-Catholic school experience, I learned to be an apologist for my faith without apologizing for having it. My roommates’ open-minded conversations helped us all learn about each other’s faith backgrounds and perspectives, and they are still some of my close friends, too. I was the co-director for music ministry at the ICCC my junior and senior years, and loved it. (Looking back, I realize it’s not a normal parish community when most members of the volunteer choir are majoring in music and can sight-read in parts.)

My senior year, I did my student teaching quarter. I loved teaching. It took all my conscious energy during the week. Then, I would return on Sundays and realize how much I missed those weeknight events at the ICCC. Our Catholic chaplain invited me to the regional National Association of Pastoral Musicians (NPM) convention the summer before and encouraged me apply to the Master of Sacred Music (MSM)program at the University of Notre Dame. I thought, “Maybe it is time to focus on my faith in context with this thing that I love doing, and see where it takes me. If I apply and don’t get in, I’ll take it as a sign that I’m supposed to be a teacher next.” I was accepted to Notre Dame and went straight to grad school, like many who graduated during the 2009 recession.

At Notre Dame, I was challenged and formed and loved in many contexts -- by the MSM students and professors, in classes and at wine-and-cheese parties; Farley Hall, especially the liturgy committee, ensemble members, and hall staff; the Folk Choir, in rehearsals, at liturgies, and on tours; and of course Notre Dame Vision, which has shaped the spirituality and vocational vocabulary of nearly everyone who writes for the72.

I learned to be confident in publicly claiming my faith, albeit in a place where being Catholic was very popular. The first thing I heard about upon coming to campus was this brand new post-graduate volunteer program having to do with liturgy, music, and catechesis in Wexford, Ireland. (Many good things happened in those two years at Notre Dame, but I’ll just skip to the end...) I visited the first community over my spring break, and applied the next year. I thought, “I have moved far away from home before, and it was hard. Maybe it is time to take a risk in going very far, serving this community in Ireland in a way I seem particularly well suited to serve, and see where it takes me.” This turned out to be a very good decision.

I spent two years in Teach Bhríde, and love, love, loved it. I loved my volunteer communities both years. I loved the parish community and the school communities. I loved the growth I was blessed to see flourish there, in those communities as well as in my own spiritual and professional life. I learned to stop in for tea and a chat, to take time off, and to be present to people and situations around me. As you can probably tell, I still miss it.

At the end of those two years, I applied for jobs back in the States. I thought I would move to Chicago or Denver where I had family and friends, and I would either be a music teacher in a Catholic school or a music director in a parish. When I saw the posting for the Music Director position with Creighton University Campus Ministry and St. John’s Parish, I thought, “That job looks like fun, and a way I can use all my education and training. Why not apply and see where it takes me?” And that was how I came to my current position in Omaha, which is dead center between Chicago and Denver, and between parish and school life. God is very sneaky sometimes. 

So, how do I live my ministry, you ask? I have learned to live it in different ways through my life so far. I really do believe that life is a ministry of presence; that being present to each other in everyday moments is where ministry happens. I live my ministry by living with others, and often music is part of that.

Music ministry is, quite simply, what I do. I would do it whether it was my job or not. I am still learning how best to live my vocation. “Living the questions” is a popular phrase at the Jesuit parish and university where I work. Here are some things I am learning and some questions I am living now.

Living as a single young professional means those everyday moments of presence between friends are less frequent, and they can take effort to coordinate. Even though I was mentally prepared for that coming into the last year, it is still different to learn by living it. The question there is, “How do I maintain my close relationships with family and friends all over the world while still making time for new friendships where I am now? How do I remember my formation while continuing to be formed?”

In the last several months, I have been learning more about what it means to be a young professional single woman in ministry, in a new city. All of those qualities that often benefit me as a minister – welcoming everyone with a smile, gaining trust by trusting, making people feel valued and heard by listening – those qualities do not always benefit me as a single woman in ministry. I’m still working out how high my wall should be with those I minister with and minister to. I have learned that some people are broken, and that my presence cannot be part of their healing precisely because of their brokenness.

I’m living out many questions with this challenge: “Am I supposed to care for this broken person when he is clearly incapable of respecting the clear boundaries I have set? How is the parish supposed to care for him when parish events (my work events) are excuses for him to ignore those boundaries? Is it safe for me to walk alone across the street to my car, or around campus after an evening event? Should I get a protection order against him for my safety? Can I allow myself to be angry at someone who needs help? How much trust is the right amount?” And especially, “Why should I have to ask any of these questions at all? Why can’t I just think about how best to follow Christ and trust others to do the same, especially those in my worshipping community?”

I don’t like having to live those dissonant questions. One difficult realization I have come to is that it cannot always be my job, even as a minister, to care for everyone I see needs help. Even if it’s the kind of help to which my particular gifts seem best suited.

I have always purposely welcomed those who don’t feel they fit in and affirmed their gifts, their worth. A music ministry ensemble can be a perfect community for that: you are part of the group at least for the time you are making music and praying together, regardless of how adept you are at other social situations. The shared ensemble experience is a baseline from which that community grows, through which someone who is otherwise awkward can become confident.

The concept that someone should be excluded from that community because of my presence, that I should purposely be unwelcoming for my own safety in the context of ministry... that concept is strange. I don’t like it. But that’s where I am: still in process, as I learn to live this vocation.

Molly Mattingly graduated from Ithaca College in 2009 with a degree in Music Theory and Music Education. There she was part of the Ithaca College Catholic Community, whose music ministry she co-directed. Molly earned her Masters in Sacred Music from the University of Notre Dame, graduating in 2011. She went on to serve as a lay volunteer in the House of Brigid in Wexford, Ireland, for one year before becoming the House Director for the 2012-13 community. A native of Third Lake, IL, Molly now lives in Omaha, NE, where she is the Director of Music Ministry for Creighton University Campus Ministry and St. John's Parish. You can contact Molly at mary.k.mattingly@gmail.com.