O Frabjous Day!

From the National Catholic Register comes the good news that the Holy See has, at last, given its recognitio to the new English translation of the Roman Missal. So, if all goes well, we'll see much-improved texts in our parishes in Advent of next year—certainly by 2012.

How are the new texts an improvement over the old ones?

The current translations are the product of a translation method called dynamic equivalence, which tries to convey the gist of a text without necessarily translating word-for-word (or formal equivalence). This is OK for some situations, for example, if you want to give readers a simple overview of what the text means.

In 2001, the Congregation for Divine Worship and the Discipline of the Sacraments issued the instruction Liturgiam authenticam to give guidance on vernacular translations of the Bible and liturgical texts, calling for these to be more accurate and more faithful to the originals (see paragraphs 19–33, and especially paragraph 20). This meant that, basically, dynamic equivalence was a non-starter when it came to the new English translations, although many people, including several bishops, clung to the old ways on the grounds that the People in the Pews just wouldn't be able to understand fancy two-dollar words like "consubstantial." (Um, isn't that what catechesis is for?)

One of the dangers of the dynamic-equilvalence appropach is that it's fairly easy to oversimplify and obscure, or eliminate, subtleties in the original text. Here's an example, the Domine, non sum dignus:

Official Latin text
Domine, non sum dignus ut intres sub tectum meum: sed tantum dic verbo, et sanabitur anima mea.

Current translation (using dynamic equivalence)
Lord, I am not worthy to receive You, but only say the word, and I shall be healed.

New translation (using formal equivalence in accordance with Liturgiam authenticam)
Lord, I am not worthy that You should enter under my roof, but only say the word, and my soul shall be healed.

Do you recognize the new translation? It's the centurion's words in Matthew 8:8, when he asks Jesus to heal his servant—something that you wouldn't necessarily pick up from the current translation. (Of course, in the Gospel the centurion actually said "servant" rather than "soul," but that's neither here nor there. The point is that we join in the centurion's act of faith before receiving Communion.)

Here's another one, this time from Eucharistic Prayer III:

Official Latin text
Vere sanctus es, Domine,
et merito te laudat omnis a te condita creatura,
quia per Filium tuum,
Dominum nostrum Iesum Christum,
Spiritus Sancti operante virtute,
vivificas et santificas universa,
et populum tibi congregare non desinis,
ut a solis ortu usque ad occasum
oblatio munda offeratur nomini tuo.

Current translation
Father, You are holy indeed,
and all creation rightly gives You praise.
All life, all holiness comes from You
through Your Son, Jesus Christ our Lord,
by the working of the Holy Spirit.
From age to age You gather a people to Yourself,
so that from east to west
a perfect offering may be made
to the glory of Your Name.

New translation
You are indeed Holy, O Lord,
and all you have created
rightly gives you praise,
for through your Son our Lord Jesus Christ,
by the power and working of the Holy Spirit,
you give life to all things and make them holy,
and you never cease to gather a people to yourself,
so that from the rising of the sun to its setting
a pure sacrifice may be offered to your name.

The new translation, especially the part I've highlighted, more closely parallels Malachi 1:11 than does what we have now:

For from the rising of the sun, even to its setting,
My Name is great among the nations;
And everywhere they bring sacrifice to My Name,
and a pure offering. (New American Bible)

So, to quote Lewis Carroll (again):

Callooh! Callay!

Disclaimer: No jabberwocks or bandersnatches were harmed in the making of this blog post.

Liturgical Pet Peeve #1: Holding Hands during the Our Father

A bit unusual to have back-to-back LPP1s, but I couldn't pass this one up after seeing the excellent video embedded below.

A practice seen in a large number of Catholic parishes (virtually every one I've attended, outside the Sacred Music Colloquium and St Patrick's in New Orleans) is that of congregants holding hands with one another during the Our Father—sometimes practically the entire congregation takes part in this, and I've even seen folks holding hands across the aisles. This culminates in the hand-holders raising their hands high at the Doxology ("For the kingdom, the power, and the glory are Yours, now and forever").

I'm not quite sure how or when this got started; I've heard that someone, somewhere, saw it at a Protestant service and thought it might be cool for us Catholics to follow suit. However, the practice has become so prevalent, at least in the United States, that many bishops have acquiesced in it (in my diocese, it's supposed to be limited to immediate family, but I still see unrelated folks reaching for their neighbors' hands).

"But, Chris," I hear from the galleries, "it's such a nice, touching gesture [pun not intended]. It shows our warmth, our humanity, our neighborliness, our unity."

That's nice, guys and gals. I truly don't have a problem with gestures of warmth, humanity, or unity per se. I certainly exchange the first two with Ladylove rather frequently (the third one, of course, will have to wait for marriage, should that be our lot). But three small problems arise with endemic paternosterian manual contact:

1. Someone, somewhere, figured it would be cool and decided to "just do it." Sorry, but that's not the way we do things in Catholic liturgy, brothers and sisters:

Regulation of the sacred liturgy depends solely on the authority of the Church, that is, on the Apostolic See and, as laws may determine, on the bishop.... no other person, even if he be a priest, may add, remove, or change anything in the liturgy on his own authority. (Sacrosanctum Concilium 22)

2. There's already a sign of unity built into the Mass. The Eucharist is the ultimate sign of Christian unity, which is why the USCCB "Guidelines for the Reception of Communion" point out that, basically, Protestants can't receive (with specified exceptions). Why do we need another?

3. It takes the congregation's attention from the One Whom we're supposed to be praying to. I'll let Fr Jeffrey Keyes, pastor of St Edward Parish in Newark, CA, explain:


So, can we please give the hand-holding a rest?

Liturgical Pet Peeve #1: Liturgical Dancing

There are some folks who, no matter how nicely or how many times you explain something, seem to just not get it. One such group of people are the promoters of the topic of today's Liturgical Pet Peeve #1: liturgical dancing.

Over the five years now that I've been a Catholic, I've seen many examples of liturgical dance at Mass posted on YouTube and other sites. (I've been lucky so far in not having been to any live Masses with dancing, although I've attended a couple of Vespers services in which a dance troupe performed.) Examples range from the sublime...




...through the ridiculous...




...to the outrageous (sorry I couldn't imbed this; it was posted directly to Facebook, which doesn't support imbedding):

http://www.facebook.com/video/video.php?v=394275649000

Now, the folks involved in all three of these cases were, I'm sure, well-intentioned when the planned and performed these dances. However, there's a small problem with what they're doing: It is not permitted in liturgical celebrations in the US.

The now-Congregation for Divine Worship and the Discipline of the Sacraments first took note of liturgical dancing in 1975 when it published an essay on the subject in Notitiae, its offical journal (Notitiae 11 [1975], 202–205). The essay was later translated into English as "The Religious Dance, an Expression of Spiritual Joy" and published in the Canon Law Digest (Volume VIII, pages 78–82).

To quote the essay:

[In Western culture] dancing is tied with love, with diversion, with profaneness, with unbridling of the senses: such dancing, in general, is not pure.

For that reason it cannot be introduced into liturgical celebrations of any kind whatever: that would be to inject into the liturgy one of the most desacralized and desacralizing elements; and so it would be equivalent to creating an atmosphere of profaneness which would easily recall to those present and to the participants in the celebration worldly places and situations.

The entire essay, along with some preliminary comments, can be found at the bottom of this page. The Bishops' Committee on the Liturgy (now the Bishops' Committee on Divine Worship) of the United States Conference of Catholic Bishops reprinted the article in 1982 and issued directives specifically prohibiting liturgical dance (along with ballet and clown Masses).

Given this clear statement from both the Holy See and the US bishops, one question remains for the proponents of liturgical dance: What part of "no" don't you get?

Gone with the.... Well, Just Plain GONE

I found this gem, from Austrian TV, while cruising YouTube. Note the, ahem, ambiance at this Mass:



Save your Confederate money, boys, South Austria's gonna rise again.