I know this is petty. I try to not let it bother me; however, I do wonder.
In the 70s the Roman Catholic Church in the US liberally changed some of the English used in the Mass from its original Latin translation. I think the reasoning was to make it more relatable to Americans (some people called it touchy-feely translating). This year, 2012, we were instructed/mandated to return to the proper, literal translation from the Latin.
I happen to prefer the literal translation. Having fallen away from the Church for many of the intervening years, it was much easier for me to revert to what I had originally learned when I was a child, when the Mass first went to English and the translation was precise.
The 70s sometimes added superfluous words. The response to "Let us give thanks to the Lord our God" became: "it is right and just to give Him thanks and praise" instead of the simple "it is right and just" (Dignum et iustum est.).
Which brings me to my observation. When I was young and we sang the Sanctus in Latin it went:
Sanctus, Sanctus, Sanctus
Dominus Deus Sabaoth
When we were allowed English, we said or sang:
Holy, Holy, Holy
Lord God of Hosts
Then, the 70s additions happened and it was interpreted this way:
Holy, Holy, Holy Lord
God of power and might
(observe that the word Lord is bumped up to the first line)
Today, I notice that many are still bringing the word Lord up to the first line:
Holy, Holy, Holy Lord
God of Hosts
(and this kinda drives me nuts)
In my Church, most of the priests lead the English this last (wrong?) way. Unless we sing it; then we do it correctly. I've thought about discussing it with one of our parish priests –and I might– but perhaps this minor annoyance is a good thing to "offer up" (remember that?).
I like to think of myself as a non-rigid Catholic who doesn't get all hung up on rules. I think that one's relationship with God is infinitely more personal than dictates allow or even attempt to understand. I tend to think that sometimes we hide true meaning behind habitual and regimented behavior.
So I will try to not flinch at "Holy Holy Holy Lord" ... because to do so is trivial and not sanctus at all.
 |
| Currently reading:
The Last Report on the Miracles at Little No Horse
by Louise Erdrich
For
more than a half century, Father Damien Modeste has served his beloved
people, the Ojibwe, on the remote reservation of Little No Horse. Now,
nearing the end of his life, Father Damien dreads the discovery of his
physical identity, for he is a woman who has lived as a man. To
complicate his fears, his quiet life changes when a troubled colleague
comes to the reservation to investigate the life of the perplexing,
difficult, possibly false saint Sister Leopolda. Father Damien alone
knows the strange truth of Sister Leopolda's piety and is faced with the
most difficult decision of his life: Should he reveal all he knows and
risk everything? Or should he manufacture a protective history though he
believes Leopolda's wonder-working is motivated by evil?
I
am finding this book very passionate, fascinating, surprisingly
believable, sometimes humorous, beautifully written in a way that grasps
from the prologue and doesn't let go. The Vatican might not approve of
this story; however, knowing how intensely Catholicism is practiced, I
am intrigued.
[She]
imagined that she had bent to the ground and had been rooted by the
ends of her fine, black hair. When she pulled herself upright, earth
rained down on her and her thoughts were as weak as dust.
That is just so much more expressive than saying:
[She] was depressed.
|
