Harmony and Dissonance: The Lived Liturgical Experience of Non-Catholic Participants in the Roman Catholic Mass

Many people who are not Catholic attend Roman Catholic mass occasionally. They may be present to support friends at a baptism, wedding, or funeral, or to attend a Christmas Eve or Easter liturgy with family, or to visit a historic church when on vacation, for example (Johnson, 2025). There are also non-Catholics who attend Roman Catholic mass routinely. This is especially common in families affiliated with multiple traditions, and also occurs when mass is a regular part of community life at Catholic schools and universities, and when non-Catholics are employed by Catholic parishes, among other possibilities. In increasingly religiously diverse social contexts, it is wise to assume that people who are not Catholic may be present at any Roman Catholic mass. What is their lived liturgical experience? In what ways is Catholic liturgy a context for both belonging and exclusion?

To better understand the experience of religiously diverse participants who routinely attend Roman Catholic mass, several years ago I conducted a mixed methods study of the Magnificat Choir at the University of Notre Dame, a treble vocal ensemble that provides music for mass weekly and on special occasions at the Basilica of the Sacred Heart. The choir consists of approximately thirty singers who are religiously diverse, including nonreligious singers, singers who connect with non-Christian religious traditions, and singers who are affiliated with a range of Christian traditions, including Orthodox, Episcopal, Lutheran, Methodist, Baptist, and nondenominational traditions. There is also diversity among the Catholic singers, including cradle Catholics and converts, those in the process of joining or leaving the church, and singers who primarily practice in Eastern Rites or the Extraordinary Form. I observed choir rehearsals and liturgies and conducted semi-structured interviews with twenty-three singers. This data is one starting point for understanding the lived liturgical experience of non-Catholics who attend Roman Catholic mass routinely, not only as participants, but as liturgical leaders. 

Harmony in the Choir 

The basilica feels dark and hushed compared to the bustle of football game day outdoors. The gold is luminous in the steep light of the evening sun shining through the stained-glass windows. The choir is dressed in matching flowing cream-colored robes. Apart from the homily, the choir stands throughout mass, leading the congregation in singing the opening and closing hymn, adding choral sections and descants to congregational musical responses, and singing chants and anthems during the preparation of the gifts and the distribution of communion. In addition to the practiced harmony and unison of the singers’ voices and the studied coordination of their breathing, the singers physically move as one, standing, bowing, hugging during the peace, processing forward for communion, and swaying side to side during the alma mater, sung before the closing hymn.

Apart from staff musicians, singers in the Magnificat Choir are volunteers—they are there by choice. Many singers experience a strong sense of belonging in the choir. As a music group, singers value the musical repertoire of the ensemble and the powerful embodied experience of singing together. As a social group, singers value close relationships forged through common interests, a rigorous rehearsal schedule, and social events and tours. However, the choir is also a religious group, housed within Campus Ministry, with the primary role of providing leadership at a religious ritual—a weekly Roman Catholic mass. In an otherwise harmonious context, dissonance is most likely to emerge when observable embodied boundaries are drawn and enforced in relation to religious practices, especially the reception of communion. 

Dissonance at the Table 

As the congregation and choir sing the “Lamb of God,” one singer comes forward and receives a bowl of consecrated hosts to distribute to the choir. While a cantor leads an antiphon, the singer rapidly distributes communion to the singers as they all process forward from the risers and then return to their assigned spots. Some singers receiving communion make deep bows before doing so. Three singers receive directly on their tongues instead of holding out their hands. Seven or so singers come forward with their arms crossed over their chests to indicate they are to receive a blessing rather than the host. With one singer, the woman distributing communion seems confused, initially moving forward to place a host on her tongue, before realizing she is asking for a blessing by crossing her arms. After everyone in the choir has returned to the risers, the singer serving communion and the cantor return to the group and the choir sings the communion chant and anthem.

The distribution of communion is the only moment singers frequently identify as a time when the religious diversity of the choir is apparent. As one Catholic singer observes, 

You just realize, oh, we’re different. We’re a choir, and we need to sing as a choir, but we do have these individual differences among ourselves. That is highlighted when we go to communion and you realize not everyone here is Catholic and there is that difference. 

Communion is a time when boundaries are drawn. According to the formal teaching of the Roman Catholic Church, under ordinary circumstances the reception of communion is limited to Roman Catholics who meet certain criteria (Morrill, 2016), although there are notable exceptions (Belcher, 2020). At the time of this research, the local custom at almost every mass on the University of Notre Dame campus is for the celebrant to make an announcement inviting those from other religious traditions or Christian denominations to come forward for a blessing rather than to receive the eucharist and to indicate this by crossing their arms over their chests. Many singers reference this announcement, which is frequently reinforced during choir rehearsals. All singers in the choir are expected to come forward, as one singer describes, “to make sure it looks uniform and have everybody together” and because “it’s just kind of weird if somebody stays on the risers and everyone else is on the ground.” Both uniformity and boundaries are enforced. 

The violation of these boundaries is noteworthy. In interviews, nine singers mentioned a particular instance of a non-Catholic singer accidentally receiving the host, although it was taken from her hands and given to a Catholic singer before she could ingest it. A singer describes the incident: 

This one moment just keeps popping up in my head. I don’t want to name the person. But there was this one day where I think someone got confused at mass and ended up taking the bread. She didn’t eat it, but she took it because she forgot to do this [crosses arms]. And there was just a little bit of chaos because they were like, give it to someone who can actually eat it, you’re not supposed to do that, you’re not baptized. So that was just a very dramatic moment.

This incident prompted a renewed emphasis on teaching and enforcing the boundaries around the table, as one singer explains:

We realized we have to make it more clear to our choir that communion is not extended to everyone. … We have to make this more clear while still not sounding exclusive. That it’s just, it’s not a choir thing. Receiving communion is not something the choir decided or the choir sets and I don’t think it’s a reflection of us. It’s just the faith.

How boundaries around communion are received differs widely for singers with different religious identities, especially between those who identify as Roman Catholic and those who do not. 

How Non-Catholic Christian Singers Experience Boundaries

Although some non-Catholic Christians are guided from within their own traditions not to receive communion, other non-Catholic singers tend to resent or resist these boundaries: 

Every time that priest guy comes out at the beginning of the service and says, “we welcome all those visiting from other Christian denominations or faith traditions,” and tells us to cross our arms over our chests, I have to stop myself from getting annoyed at him. Whoever came up with that gesture as an indication that we shouldn’t be served communion needs to go back and try something else, because every time I do it, I feel like I’m telling the priest, “I’m not like you, don’t touch me.” It’s kind of uncomfortable most of the time. 

Some non-Catholic singers depict the boundary as theologically problematic: 

I highly disagree with the communion rule that you can only be of the denomination to take communion. I feel like that’s the opposite of the spirit of communion. And that is not what Jesus would want. He would approve of everyone being able to take communion because that’s what he wants everyone to do who has been baptized.

In certain cases, this leads to disengagement from the entire ritual: 

I don’t feel really deeply engaged in the mass, where I would if that non-invitation was not there. … I think for me it is if I can’t commune, or if it’s made kind of explicit … that is a feeling of exclusion. There is a kind of graciousness about the wordage that is used. But, at the same time, it is still, “You’re not quite there yet with us.” And I understand that’s exactly where Catholic theology is. But on a very human level, it’s like “You’re not really welcome here.” 

The response of non-Catholic Christians to how boundaries around the table are articulated and enforced is generally negative—there is dissonance between the experience of belonging in the choir and the experience of exclusion from communion.

How Roman Catholic Singers Experience Boundaries 

Roman Catholic singers appear largely unaware of this dissonance. Many have not considered the experience of those who do not receive communion: 

I have not really thought about that. I don’t know. I guess receiving communion is a community building thing. I never really thought about how that would affect our choir community. I’m not really sure.

Catholic singers who do acknowledge that it may be a difficult moment for non-Catholics tend to see it as justifiable either on the basis of the centrality of communion, or the possibility of other forms of participation: 

I feel like on the surface it can seem kind of exclusionary, but it’s really, that’s kind of the most sacred part of Catholicism is being in communion with God like that. And so, if that’s not what you believe, then you should not partake in that rite. 

I feel like they still participate in different ways. I mean the focal point of the mass is definitely the eucharist, but I feel like they still kind of participate in different ways by being part of the song and by being part of the mass in that way. 

However, one of the most common responses among Catholic singers is to see the invitation to come forward for a blessing as a sign of welcome rather than exclusion—as a harmonious rather than dissonant moment: 

I like the way that the basilica is extremely open to having people who are not Catholic come up for communion. Because we grew up where non-Catholics had to just sit in the pew or stand and have everyone walk past them, so it did seem a little bit exclusive. So even though I am taking communion, the fact that there might be a girl in front of me crossing her arms and getting a blessing fosters a community of inclusion and makes the mass and religion in general less intimidating for people less familiar with it, which I appreciate.

Even if you can’t receive communion, you come forward for a blessing. I think that really allows people to participate as much as they can without having to compromise whatever they believe in. 

And they walk up to communion, whether they receive or not they’re part of that procession, and they get a blessing and they’re still a part of that movement. So, it doesn’t serve as a divisive moment I don’t think.

These comments are a striking contrast to the experience of non-Catholic Christians. Only one Catholic singer empathizes with the non-Catholic Christian participants to the extent that she expresses something close to their perspective: 

I kind of feel bad sometimes just because I think there is such a sense of belonging when you can go up. It is kind of like the climax of the entire mass is receiving the host. And so not being able to participate in that, I can see that would kind of stink. Because you’re there and you’re devoting this much time to singing with this choir and participating in this mass and making it as beautiful as possible, but then you can’t really partake fully. I can see where that would be sad or kind of frustrating. But I have not talked to anyone. I don’t think anyone is upset about it. It’s just kind of the way it is. I should ask that. We should talk about this together. 

Apart from this example, it is almost as if the Catholic and non-Catholic Christian singers inhabit different worlds. 

Theorizing Dissonance 

Catholic and non-Catholic Christian participants interpret the same community and ritual practice in very different ways. Non-Catholic Christians are more likely to see the invitation to come forward for a blessing as exclusionary, making their outsider status apparent. Catholic Christians are more likely to see this invitation as a mark of welcome and respectful recognition of difference. Both groups may be correct. Following Levi-Strauss as discussed by ritual theorist Jonathan Z. Smith:

the question is not necessarily one of alternatives. These forms, as described, do not necessarily relate to two different organizations. They may also correspond to two different ways of describing one organization too complex to be formalized in a single model, so that the members of each moiety would tend to conceptualize it in one way rather than the other, depending upon their position in the social structure. (Smith, 1987, 43).

The non-Catholic Christian singers are correct in their experience and interpretation of this moment as one of exclusion that violates an understanding of communion as an expression of Christian unity. The Catholic singers are also correct in their experience and interpretation of this moment as a one of inclusion that stretches the boundaries of what is formally permissible by the Catholic Church in relation to the participation of non-Catholics present at mass. These realities coexist. 

Dissonance has the potential to bring the ritual into sharper relief, revealing greater interior complexity, and therefore also greater transformative power. This dynamic dissonance is already operative in the embodied practice of the choir; however, there is the possibility of building on this embodied knowledge through receiving the advice of the singer able to see from the others’ point of view: “We should talk about this together.” 

Potential for Dialogue 

My research explores how, in increasingly nonreligious and religiously diverse contexts, ritual practices anchored in one religious tradition often bring together individuals who relate to religion in a diversity of ways. Rather than silencing differences and imposing uniformity, dissonance can be a generative starting point for dialogue. Many non-Catholic singers feel like they are alone, even though they compose almost a third of the choir. Catholic singers and non-Catholic singers have very different understandings of the same practice yet have limited awareness of the experience of the other group. The strong relationships forged through singing and social life in the choir provide an excellent context for open conversation about difference. To conclude with the words of a Catholic singer:

There’s something about dissonance. I love when songs like “Ubi Caritas,” the last part, the “amens,” are so dissonant and then end in a perfect stack. I don’t know what it is, but I think that I just feel it so much.

The complexity of lived liturgy does not always conclude with a “perfect stack”—dissonance does not always resolve; exclusion may remain alongside embrace. However, conversations about dissonant experiences can invite those who relate to liturgical practices in different ways to listen, to feel, and to belong together.