Why Does Music Matter? And Why Does the Catholic Church Care About Music?
Holy Mother Church, through Her saints, popes, and councils, has spoken frequently about the pride of place that should be given to music in the worship of Almighty God. In these teachings, She has instructed the faithful on which forms of music should—and should not—be used in the sacred liturgy, highlighting traditions such as Gregorian chant and organ music. From Pope St. Pius X’s Tra le Sollecitudini (1903), to Pope Pius XI’s Divini Cultus (1928), to the Second Vatican Council’s Sacrosanctum Concilium (1963), the Church has consistently taught that music is an integral part of worship in the Holy Roman Catholic Church. At the same time, She has clearly affirmed that not just any music is suitable for the liturgy.
Why is this distinction important, and why does Holy Mother Church place such weight on music and on what kind of music is appropriate for the worship of God? Part of the answer lies in the fact that God deserves proper worship under the moral virtue of justice—specifically the subvirtue of religion, as Saint Thomas Aquinas teaches—and that some forms of music are simply unsuitable for His infinite majesty and goodness. But this is only part of the answer.
The other part of the answer lies in the power music has in relation to us. Music moves the soul—quite literally, as Saint Thomas tells us—and Holy Mother Church, in Her wisdom, recognizes that music can move the soul in ways that are good and in ways that are not. It can dispose us toward thought, feeling, and action that accord with our nature as bestowed upon us by Almighty God, or, at times, toward those that do not.
There is something else—outside of the Church’s liturgy—that is also important to recognize: music saturates modern life, not only the Catholic Church’s worship of God. It accompanies our entertainment, athletics, social gatherings, and even our moments of solitude and connection with others. Music is woven deeply into the human experience. We can intuitively recognize that some music moves us toward what is good, while other music moves us toward what is not.
This intuition is grounded in experience. For example, many of us have experienced being stirred with feelings of love, desire, and awe for beauty when listening to classical music or a well-trained orchestra. We have also experienced feeling “pumped up” by rock, rap, or pop music, and have sensed the ways in which such music can influence how we think, speak, and even act.
But why is this so? And how does music accomplish this?
Long before psychology was developed and modern neuroscience advanced to the point where it could begin examining music’s effects on the brain, Saint Thomas provided a philosophical and psychological framework explaining why music exerts such influence over human thought, behavior, and emotion.
According to Saint Thomas, human action is guided by the appetites—our inclinations toward perceived goods. He distinguishes between two bodily appetites: the concupiscible and the irascible. The concupiscible appetite seeks pleasure and avoids pain; it is relatively passive and is expressed in desires. For example, when we feel drawn toward something pleasant, such as food or comfort, this appetite is at work. The irascible appetite, by contrast, concerns difficult or arduous goods and fuels our drive to overcome obstacles—it’s our motivation. For example, when the food or comfort we desire will only arrive after a hard day of activity, this appetite is at work.
When either appetite is moved, we experience what Saint Thomas refers to as a passion, or what we commonly call an emotional response. Emotion is the bodily experience of an appetite moving toward or away from its object—whether it perceives the object as good or bad for us bodily. These appetites and emotions belong to what Saint Thomas describes as the lower faculties of the soul, sometimes referred to as the sensitive powers or collectively as the passive intellect.
Saint Thomas also identifies higher faculties—or powers—of the soul that can be affected by sound and music. Above the lower faculties stand the possible intellect, which seeks truth, and the will, which seeks the good. These higher faculties are central to understanding whether music truly elevates the human person—or merely stimulates him.
This distinction lies at the heart of Saint Thomas’s understanding of what makes music good and appropriate for the human person. Does the music primarily act upon the lower faculties, stirring emotional responses, or does it engage the higher faculties, moving us toward the pursuit of what is true, good, and beautiful? Ultimately, does it elevate our nature toward God, or does it incline us more strongly toward the things of this earth? Does it attach us to the pleasures of this world, or does it dispose us to seek the heights of Heaven?
Music enters the imagination, and through the imagination it moves the appetites. Saint Thomas teaches that the appetites are moved by their objects as they are held in the imagination, whether through present sensation or recalled memory. Music therefore has a direct psychological influence on the human person because of its impact on our appetite movements.
Modern culture recognizes this intuitively. Music is used to energize athletes, manipulate emotional responses in film, and influence mood in daily life. Saint Thomas anticipated this reality when he observed that musical sound naturally produces delight (Summa Theologiae, II–II, Q.91, A.2). Contemporary neuroscience confirms this insight, showing that music stimulates pleasure and reward centers in the brain and affects the body through rhythm, vibration, and physiological arousal.
Yet Saint Thomas is careful to insist that pleasure alone is not a measure of goodness. Delight must be rightly ordered. Thus, the goodness of music depends on which faculties of the soul it primarily engages. In this sense, there is a natural hierarchy in the quality and goodness of music based on how it affects us.
From a Thomistic perspective, music is not judged simply by whether it is enjoyable, but by how it orders the human person. Good music is music that harmonizes the passions under the guidance of the intellect and will, directing the soul toward truth, goodness, and ultimately God.
As certain forms of music move the human person toward his proper functioning and final end—namely, the contemplation of God—they likewise contribute to mental health. Mental health, properly understood, is nothing other than the right functioning of the intellect, in which the lower faculties operate under the direction of the higher faculties and offer no impediment to their proper activity as determined by God at our creation. Certain forms of music aid this ordering of the soul, while others do not.
For this reason, different kinds of music affect us in different ways. Music is not neutral in its effects: depending on how it is structured and how it is used, it can either support or undermine the proper relationship between the intellect and the passions. When music assists in subordinating the lower faculties to reason and truth, it disposes the soul toward interior harmony and psychological well-being. When it disrupts this order, it can incline the soul toward disorder and result in a lack of psychological well-being.
Thus, music can lend itself either to the development or hindrance of mental health depending upon how it is utilized and the faculties it principally engages. From this it becomes clear that higher forms of music—those that engage the intellect and will and dispose the soul toward contemplation—can serve as genuine aids not only to spiritual health, but to mental health as well.
Music that emphasizes heavy rhythm, sensual intensity, or emotional immediacy acts more directly upon the bodily appetites. While this does not make such music inherently evil in every context, it renders it unsuitable for the sacred liturgy, whose purpose is not emotional stimulation but the elevation of the soul toward God.
Such music fails to affect the higher faculties and acts primarily upon the lower appetites, stirring emotion and pleasure. If this pleasure is immoderate or not directed toward a proper end it will have a negative effect on us psychologically. It will incline our lower appetites to be directed increasingly by emotion and not by reason and truth. Emotion will drive our thoughts and actions. It will actually work against the very psychological and emotional mechanisms God places into the human person. In essence, it can lead—or lend itself—to a decrease in mental health and well-being.
Music that is properly ordered—such as Gregorian chant, organ music, and certain classical forms—tend to engage the intellect and will. Saint Thomas regarded the human voice as the highest form of music, and the organ as its closest instrumental analogue. Such music disposes the soul toward reverence and contemplation.
When music primarily engages the higher faculties, it draws the soul away from disordered appetitive focus and toward contemplation of what is higher. This ordering of the appetites produces an interior harmony and tranquility because it reflects the proper order instituted by Almighty God into His rational creatures. Studies have shown that music such as Gregorian chant enhances focus, reduces stress, and supports emotional regulation—effects that align with Saint Thomas’s understanding of the soul’s proper ordering.
Music also plays a powerful role in memory. Because pleasure strengthens memory formation and recall, experiences associated with music are more readily accessible to the intellect. When music is rightly ordered, it strengthens associations that lead the soul toward God and virtue. When it is disordered, it can just as easily recall experiences, desires, or emotions that undermine psychological, moral, and spiritual well-being.
In this way, music influences not only mood but judgment and decision-making. It shapes what the soul finds attractive and what it is inclined to pursue.
Saint Thomas teaches that the primary purpose of music in the liturgy is to increase piety and devotion. There is a real connection between rightly ordered sacred music and the virtue of religion, a subvirtue of justice by which we render to God what is His due. Sacred music assists the faithful in prayer not by entertaining them, but by disposing their souls toward reverence and devotion.
Music is never the foundation of one’s relationship with God; nevertheless, it can be a powerful aid. By calming the passions, strengthening memory, and orienting the intellect toward contemplation, sacred music supports the soul’s ascent to God—without becoming an end in itself.
In this light, the Church’s careful guidance on music is not restrictive but profoundly maternal. She understands that what we hear shapes who we become, and that rightly ordered music can be a genuine instrument of spiritual and psychological well-being. Thus the Church’s care for what we consume musically—both in the liturgy and outside of it.