"It's a complete insult to half the population!" On the new translation of the Roman Missal

I knew that, sooner or later, I'd end up writing a post about the new translation of Mass. I hoped it wouldn't happen, but I've now reached the stage where I feel it's necessary because I'm hearing a lot of comments like the one in the title of this post.

Originally, this was going to be about one particular phrase in the Consecration, but from numerous...let's call them 'conversations', I've had with fellow Catholics who oppose the new translation, it's clear that they don't save their displeasure for one phrase only. As such, I thought it might be useful to pull together various explanations of the most prominent changes so that you can explain them to the (mostly old) people who make their opinions known to you, and then, as usual, look at some underlying principles which can guide our thinking on the subject.

"And with your spirit" - surely the most noticeable change at Mass for those of us in the pews. Friends have taken to 'keeping score' of how many they get right (I hit all 4 today, without using the card!). Fortunately, there is a very in-depth article about this phrase written by the late Fr Austin Milner OP, but to summarize - praying for the Lord to be with someone's spirit is entirely Biblical; St. Paul signs off his letters to the Galatians and Philippians, and to St. Timothy and Philemon in various ways, but always praying that the the Lord or His grace will be with their spirits. This greeting/prayer is unique in the ancient world to Christianity - "and with your spirit" is therefore one of the most Christian things you can say. So why "and with your spirit"? According to St. Albert the Great, St. John Chrysostom, and more ancient sources, the people of God are praying that the Holy Spirit, the Spirit which gives the graces of Christ's priesthood to mere men, may be with the priest's spirit (soul) as he performs the sacred actions. After all, receiving those priestly graces at ordination works no change in a man's body, but eternally changes his soul, so while he must perform the actions with his body, it is through his spirit that the Holy Spirit works. As Chrysostom puts it: "For he who is there is a man, it is God who works though him. Do not attend to the nature of the one you see, but understand the grace which is invisible. Nothing human takes place in this sacred sanctuary." Finally, in the majority of European translations of the Latin, they have kept this phrasing e.g. "et avec ton esprit" in French. We're all part of a universal i.e. catholic church, and as such, should all at least say the same prays, even if in different languages, right?

The Triumph of Orthodoxy

"Consubstantial" - perhaps the most controversial change to the Nicene Creed, at least for some people. Someone I love dearly told me this morning that this new translation has a lot of "exclusive language" in it, citing this as an example - "people don't understand what Consubstantial means". The implication here is that they did understand what "of one being with the Father" meant, but I wonder how many Catholic Christians, when asked, would be able to give a satisfactory answer regarding the susbstantial unity of Father and Son (and Holy Spirit). Further, it is incredibly patronising to suggest that some people are just too stupid to understand what 'consubstantial' means, and that by its use they are somehow excluded from the liturgy. When I pointed out to her that the problem isn't the word 'consubstantial', it's that we haven't been taught what it means - everyone would be able to understand it, if only someone would explain it to us, she agreed. As with all similar misunderstandings and reservations about this translation, where the Church has fallen short isn't in the translation, it's in the catechesis which should have accompanied it. The blame here lies, not with the Pope, or even most Bishops, who have published booklets and DVDs and all sorts in an attempt to explain what was going on - the blame lies with us in the parishes. When was the last time you heard a priest give a homily on the meaning of 'consubstantial'? Have there been any workshops in your parish to explain, not just what was changing, but why? I didn't think so. (For those of you in this diocese/parish, watch this space).

"Pray brethren" - the phrase which caused the outburst which is the title of this post: "It's a complete insult to half the population!" Undeniably, 'brethren' began as an alternative plural form of 'brother', and was used alongside 'sistren' in the middle ages, and even up to Shakespeare's time. From then on, 'brothers' began to take over as the plural form, and 'sistren' fell out of use completely. 'Brethren' became, by the start of 17th Century, an exclusively religious word, meaning "fellow members of a religious community" without distinction between the sexes e.g. the Plymouth Brethren, a non-denominational sect of 19th Century, comprised of both men and women. Therefore, when the priest says, "Pray brethren" he is undeniably talking to both men and women! What's more, a straw poll of a number of female friends, all under the age of 25, revealed that they were not in the least offended by the word. The man who raised the objection is well into his late 70's. Only the "spirit of Vatican II" generation cares about these things, while the "Second Vatican Council" generation (i.e. us) have a deeper understanding of the meaning, and more important things to worry about.

hunc praeclarum calicem

"this precious chalice" - after the first week of using the new translation, one of the elderly women at my parish asked me what I thought of it. I didn't wax lyrical, but made it clear that I was heartily in favour of it. She had a number of reservations, and this was the one she singled out. Her concerns about this phrasing betrayed a faulty understanding of the Eucharistic celebration, which a couple of priests have told me were all the rage in the 1970s. As such, it's not entirely her fault - this was what she was taught by those she trusted to teach her the truth. So what bothered her about this wording? "I think 'cup' is better because it reminds us that Jesus was sharing an ordinary meal with his friends." Have you ever heard that before? I'd be surprised if not. If one thing is clear from the Gospel accounts of the Last Supper, it's this - it was a highly ritualised, liturgical event. As we know from the Old Testament, there were symbolic foods, special psalms, and other customs which had developed by Our Lord's time (like the Five Questions) associated with celebrating the Passover, and it was participated in by all the people of Israel. It wasn't dinner at a stranger's house on a Thursday night!

"But what about those Gospel accounts?" some might say. "They clearly say 'cup' in 1 Corinthians, Matthew, Mark, and Luke." Well, they say that in most English translations, though not in all. However, an important principle in the liturgy comes into focus because of this logical objection - the liturgy interprets Scripture, and is its own source of theology and teaching. The Church is the preserver and giver of both liturgy and Scripture, and we must remember that the liturgy is the elder of the two (1 Corinthians having been written around 20 years after the institution of the Eucharist). As such, the Church may legitimately emphasise something in liturgy which is implicit, but not necessarily explicit, in the Bible, something Pope Benedict alludes to regarding this exact phrase in this homily from Maundy Thursday [paragraph 7 - "The Roman Canon interprets this psalm..."]. So why "this precious chalice"?

When we say this phrase, we tend to stress "precious chalice" - for us this undoubtedly recalls images of the gold, silver, enamelled chalices we're used to seeing at Mass. The real meaning, though, is found in the only other common Catholic phrase with the word 'precious' in it - the Precious Blood. It is not the material the chalice is made from which makes it precious, but rather it's being made for and coming into contact with "His Most Precious Blood", as the Divine Praises put it. If a coffee cup has to be used for Holy Mass because nothing more suitable is available, it becomes a 'precious chalice' and should be treated as such, as Servant of God Dorothy Day ably demonstrated [search for the word 'chalice']. The words "precious chalice", then, are bound up with our belief in the Real Presence of Christ in the Eucharist. "Cup" just doesn't do it justice.

Yet if we neglect the first word in the phrase i.e. "this", we're also missing a key point. The Church wishes to make clear to us an incredible fact - "The sacrifice of Christ [on the Cross] and the sacrifice of the Eucharist are one single sacrifice" [CCC 1367. Emphasis in original]. When the priest acts as Christ did, taking the chalice in his hands and saying His words, there is actually no difference between 'our' chalice and the Lord's chalice of nearly 2,000 years ago - both contain the same Precious Blood. In a very real way, we are 'transported' back to that upper room where Christ began the New Covenant at every Mass we go to. Or rather, that Passover with the Apostles is brought through time to us (the Catechism has a good explanation of the meaning of "memorial" as applied to the Mass in CCC 1362-1364].

When the promoters of the new translation claim that it has more spiritual and theological depth than the (soon-to-be) old translation, these few examples are what they are talking about. There'll be even more in the prayers said by the priest at various points in Mass as well. I hope this will help you to at least present these positive aspects of it to the understandably cautious and the downright recalcitrant alike!

"What's the point? It's just a superstition." On blessings and sacramentals.

As you may or may not know, I'm a keen baker. It's not good for my waist line, but it means that people like me more than they normally would, so I think it's a fair trade. Thanks to a former housemate, I'm also into raiding the 'wild larder', which is fully stocked at this time of year with apples, blackberries, plums, and elderberries. I've spent many a happy weekend picking the fruit one day, and making something with it the next. This in itself is something of a spiritual experience, and I'm planning a more reflective, contemplative post on this topic for another time.

This year, I decided to make my annual jam-making session into a truly spiritual effort. Having discovered the Rituale Romanum last year, the one-stop-shop for the rituals of the Latin rite, I thought it would be a good thing to get the plums blessed before preserving them. Take a look at Chapter XI "Blessings and other sacramentals" - there's a blessing for pretty much anything! As an aside, you'll see Chapter XIII is about Exorcism (is it a coincidence that this is chapter 13?) - click on any of those links and see what happens.

Anyway, our parish priest was happy to oblige. He has on a number of occasions lamented the downturn in demand from the laity for things like blessings and other acts of popular devotion, and was delighted with the blessing, adapted from the blessing for grapes. He even took the prayer home to bless his crop of damsons (which he'd somehow managed to keep secret from me!).

Now, having mentioned this to a couple of friends, both young converts and, just as important, recipients of gifts of jam in previous years, they were both puzzled, if not positively scandalised, by this act of blessing plums. One said that this was one of those things which still made her think that "Catholics are weird", and that she was pretty convinced that only people could blessed, not things. Neither of them could see the point, and both indicated a suspicion of superstition in the whole thing.

Admittedly, when pressed for an explanation, I was at a loss. I don't know much about the specific theology or spirituality behind blessing objects, whether sacred or secular, and so decided to investigate; What is a sacramental? How do they work? Is it not beneath God's dignity to have plums blessed in His Name and with the sign of His Cross? I've turned to the Catechism and to the introduction to that chapter in the Rituale, and of course, to the Bible. Let's take a look at what they have to say.

The Catechism makes a number of references to Sacrosanctum Concilium, the Second Vatican Council's constitution on divine worship. SC explains sacramentals very simply. They are "sacred signs which bear a resemblance to the sacraments...By them men are disposed to receive the chief effect of the sacraments, and various occasions in life are rendered holy." They do not confer the grace of the Holy Spirit in the way that the Sacraments do, but "by the Church's prayer, they prepare us to receive grace and dispose us to co-operate with it." [CCC 1670] In fact, in the Church's view, by drawing on the power of Christ's Passion and Resurrection, "There is hardly any proper use of material things which cannot thus be directed toward the sanctification of men and the praise of God." [SC 61].


So what are some examples of sacramentals, these sacred signs which dispose us to receive grace? First and foremost, blessings are sacramentals in themselves, and by them other sacramentals may be made. Take a look at any section of that chapter in the Rituale, and you'll see plenty of examples, but the most familiar will be things like the blessing at the dismissal of Mass, icons and statues, Rosary beads, scapulars, Stations of the Cross, even the altar in church is counted as a sacramental. Through all these signs, and the prayer of the Church which goes hand-in-hand with them, we are called to fix our minds "on things that are above, not on the things that are upon the earth." [Col 3:2]


But, surely, these sacramentals, these pictures and objects and garments are earthly things? How can they help us towards our heavenly destination? St. Paul explains to St. Timothy that every creature of God is good, and "is sanctified [i.e. made holy] by the word of God and prayer." [1 Tm 4:5]. Further, in his letter to the Romans, the Apostle tells the Church that "the entire creation...still retains the hope of being freed, like us, from its slavery to decadence, to enjoy the same freedom and glory of the children of God [emphasis mine]." [Rm 8:19-21]

Why does the rest of creation need to be freed? As the Rituale explains, "The fall of man caused lower creatures to be separated from God, for they were bound to God through mankind." Just as God made us and saw that we were good, and that goodness has been compromised by the Fall, so too for the rest of creation. When Our Lord sanctified human nature by taking it to Himself in His Incarnation, so too He made holy all those everyday things He came into contact with.

The Church has always understood this 'making holy' accomplished by Jesus. St. John records that He cured a blind man by making a paste out of His own spit and the mud on the ground, applying it to the man's eyes, then sending him to wash it off in the pool of Siloam, which was full of ritual significance for the Jews [cf. Jn 9:1-8]. The Synoptics tell us that the woman with the hemorrhage was cured by touching His cloak [e.g. Mk 5:25-34]. The liturgy of the Church teaches us, in the Eucharistic preface of St. John the Baptist, that "[St. John] baptized Christ, the giver of baptism, in waters made holy by the one who was baptized."

 In fact, given that we're talking about sacramentals, let's look at an example of the 'real thing', a sacrament. Take the Eucharist. The new translation of Mass is much clearer than the old one, that when Jesus took the bread, "He blessed it, broke it, gave it to his disciples..." What is clear is that it is the bread which is blessed, not His Apostles.

Now, let's be clear about this...all of this is entirely unnecessary on God's part. He doesn't need to make a paste to cure blindness, or have a cloak to cure bleeding, or even water to pour out His Holy Spirit or bread to share His divine life with us. Let us reflect on that fact, and then realize that He, who only does what is wisest and most loving, has chosen to work this way anyway! He has no problem using created things to help us - consider that He uses us, mere creatures, to carry on His saving work, which He certainly doesn't need to do. He sees fit to pour out His Spirit on us through the waters of baptism, He feeds us with His body through the sign of bread.

Surely, no Catholic would say of the Sacraments, "Oh, that's superstition!". That the sacramentals are not an end in themselves, and are ordered for our good and sanctification just like the Sacraments, is made clear in every one of the blessings in the Rituale. For example, in the blessing for beer, the Church prays: "Grant that whoever drinks it with thanksgiving to your holy name may find it a help in body and in soul; through Christ our Lord." Likewise, the Eucharistic bread is not transubstantiated for its own good (an absurd idea) but for the eternal good of mankind.

The Rituale is well aware of the problems faced by sacramentals, acknowledging that "some are apt to be disedified rather than edified when they are made aware that the Church has a mind to speak a blessing on a horse, silkworm, bonfire, beer, bridal chamber, medicine or lard." Pride and sophistication are to blame for this antipathy, according to the introduction to the chapter. Recognising the important place that God has allocated to created things in His plan for our salvation, and genuinely desiring to make our whole lives holy, let's be confident in asking our priests to bless our houses, cars, and yes, plums.

"I feel like they're telling God what to do."

In my last post, I repeated the explanation of Indulgences I gave to a friend of mine, who'd never heard of them. In this post, we'll look at some of the objections I've heard to them, and examine the basis for the Church's teaching on Indulgences.

Talking to another young Catholic a while ago, she said that she didn't believe in Indulgences because she felt like they were a way of "telling what God what to do" i.e. that He must remit the temporal punishment due to our sins. Certainly, I can see where she's coming from, but on closer inspection, it doesn't make much sense. Think about it - from this point of view, aren't the Sacraments also a way of telling God what to do? The priest says certain words and does certain actions, and therefore God baptises us, forgives our sins, seals us with the gift of the Holy Spirit, and allows us to consume His Body under the appearance of bread. How is this less shocking than Indulgences? Obviously, this isn't a good way of understanding the Sacraments, and neither is it a good way of understanding Indulgences.

Rather, like the Sacraments, Indulgences are ways that God communicates His superabundant love (grace) to us in this life. In the Sacraments, we receive a share of His divine life. In Indulgences, we receive a share of His merits. Again, even the word 'merit' can raise an objection from other Christians, who sometimes think we're saying that if you can earn enough 'Jesus points', you get to Heaven (this is the heresy of Pelagianism, against which the Church fought strenuously). So what do we mean by 'merit'? Our belief in the Treasury of Merit, and therefore Indulgences, has its basis in Our Lord's own words - "Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust consume and where thieves break in and steal, but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust consumes and where thieves do not break in and steal." [Mt 6:19-21]

In the previous paragraphs, Our Lord has told His disciples not to imitate the hypocrites, who fast and pray and give alms in public so that people will praise them, but rather to do them so as to please God, and God will reward them. It's very clear then, that such things as penances, prayer, and charity are 'worth something' in God's eyes, are in fact a "treasure" which is stored in heaven for us.

Of greatest value, indeed of infinite value, are the absolutely perfect treasures stored up by Jesus Himself - who ever fasted, prayed or did charity more perfectly, or was more pleasing to God the Father in this life? St. Paul writes of the Lord that because He "became obedient unto death, even death on a cross, therefore God has highly exalted him." [Phil 2:8-9] On this verse, St. Thomas Aquinas comments, "Therefore by obeying He merited His exaltation and thus He merited something for Himself." [ST III, Q 19.4]

Yet, because God's love isn't just 'enough' but 'super-abundant', this treasury of His is added to by the spiritual treasures of Our Lady, next in perfection to Him, and of the saints, all of whom have been perfected by being conformed to His nature. The face that "all those who have followed in the footsteps of Christ the Lord and by his grace have made their lives holy" [CCC 1477] avoids any critical nonsense about the Catholic Church exalting the saints to the same level as God - they're only perfect because they've been perfected by Him, whereas He is, of His very nature, perfect.

All this is well and good. Store up treasure in Heaven by praying, doing penances, and acts of charity which are pleasing to God - check. But what do Christ, and Mary, and the saints do with it all? Is it for their pleasure only? Can they even share His merits with us on Earth (or souls in Purgatory, for that matter)? Our answer to this will depend a lot on what our vision of Heaven is like. In my opinion, too many Christians imagine Heaven as place of inert bliss, with souls floating about, not doing much. This isn't how Our Lord describes it, and in a well known parable, He gives us a clue about the truth of life in Heaven.

In the famous Parable of the Talents [cf. Mt 25:14-30], Our Lord describes a man going abroad, and entrusting his own property to his servants. As we know, the one who was given 5 talents made another 5, the one with 2 doubled his as well, and the servant with 1 hid his in the ground. Do you remember what the master says to the two servants who invested wisely? "Well done, good and faithful servant. You have shown you are faithful [or trustworthy] in small things; I will trust you with greater; come and join in your master's happiness." [emphasis mine].

When recalling the Master's words, too many of us leave out the part I've emphasised here. Another translation reads "...I will place you over many [things]", indicating a position of authority and responsibility. This certainly runs counter to what "[sharing] in your master's happiness" conjures up for many people.

It seems that the Master's good and faithfuul servants have things to do in Heaven. Might not their investments then be shared out with other servants in the household? According to our belief in the Communion of Saints, ably laid about by St Paul in his analogy of the body, they can. In clarifying the theology of Indulgences, Clement VII in the bull 'Unigenitas' used imagery from this parable, saying that Christ did not "hide His treasure in a napkin" as did the unwise servant, but laid up an "inestimable treasure for mankind".The merits of Christ, the good Master and the faithful Servant, and those of His saints, are able to be distributed to us by the power of the keys which He gave to Peter, and of binding and loosing, given to the Apostles. No limit is set on this authority, because it is Christ's own, shared with His Body, the Church.

so, don't be afraid of attempting to gain indulgences. In fact, search 'Enchiridion of Indulgences' on Google, and download the Church's handbook of Indulgences. You'll see that a lot of what you do already is indulgences in some way. Then tell others about them. Be a good and faithful servant and share the treasure which Christ has stored up for us!

"There is no positive truth in religion..."

This past weekend, I was privileged to give a talk at a Catholic Charismatic event on the subject of my great hero, Blessed John Henry Newman. It was the first talk I've ever given, and I certainly learned a lot from the experience i.e. don't try to cram an infinite amount of information into a finite amount of time! The talk was entitled, "Newman and the Impact of Christian Doctrine" and served as an introduction to the beloved Cardinal's insights into the development of the Church's teaching.

This might sound like an abstract subject at best, and a deathly boring one at worst. However, Bl. Newman's life testifies to the dramatic power that Christian doctrine can, and must, have. His most popular prayer book is called Meditations on Christian Doctrine, from which the famous prayer "God has created me to do him some definite service" is taken. Most dramatically, his research for his book On The Development of Christian Doctrine compelled him to become Catholic.

It's hard for us to imagine just how colossal a decision that was for the middle-aged John Henry. As he knelt in his study before Bl. Dominic Barberi on that rain-soaked October night in 1845, and asked the Italian priest to receive him into the Catholic Church, Newman must have reckoned the cost. He paid it dearly. He was ostracized by old friends, and it adversely affected his relationship with his family, to whom he was devoted. His conversion was met by disbelief in the Anglican Church, and even suspicion by some in the Catholic Church. He had to resign his post as a fellow of Oriel College. In later years, he would be attacked in the newspapers and pamphlets (which were widely read, and readily believed) by pillars of English society, like popular author Charles Kingsley, and former Prime Minister William Gladstone.

What did he find in the course of writing Christian Doctrine that he "recognized in himself a conviction of the truth" that the much-maligned Catholic Church was (as we would often refer to it in his later letters) "the one, true fold"? What caused him to undergo the 'bloodless martyrdom' described above?

For a starting point, let's imagine the absurdity of seeing on the news the tragic story that a man has been killed for refusing to deny the statement "2+2=4". Sure, this is a 'truth statement' and the truth is important, but we would rightly balk at the idea of sacrificing our lives for it. Simply put, an abstract, intellectual 'truth statement' isn't important enough for us to risk our lives, or even change them in the slightest. In the modern era, we have this same reaction to the terms 'doctrine' (teaching), and 'dogma' (truth). They're too technical, too distant, to be worth bothering about.

What is important, or valuable, enough  for us to risk the most valuable thing we have? St. Paul says that "perhaps for a good man someone would dare to die." [Rm 5:7] We all have trouble imagining an idea, even one we firmly believe in, for which we'd sacrifice ourselves, but we all have a list in our heads of people who we'd like to think we would die for if the situation arose. We need another person to spur us on to heroic deeds; someone we love, someone who loves us, someone who, one way or another, arouses our passions.

For the Christian, of course, this person is the good man, the God-Man, Jesus Christ. And He is exactly the sort of person we imagine that we'd be prepared to die for. How great He was! All that healing the sick, preaching the Good News to the poor and downtrodden, sticking it to the hypocrites, calling sinners like me "friend", let alone His being prepared to die for me! What a swell guy! Yes, I'd definitely put my life on the line for a chap like that.

Further, throughout the Gospels, and especially in St. John's, Jesus identifies Himself not only with the truth, but as The Truth. He brings out the true meaning of the Law in the Sermon on the Mount. He tells the Apostles that He is "the Way, the Truth, and the Life" [Jn 14:6] and prays that the Father will "sanctify them in truth." [Jn 17:17] by sending "the Spirit of Truth" which will guide the Church "into all truth.".  At last, he tells Pilate that He came into the world "to bear testimony to the truth. All who are of the truth listen to my voice." [Jn 18:37]. Here, He is telling us in a not-at-all subtle way, that the truth is no conceptual, intangible ideal, but is reconciled to the Good Man in His Person. To give up your life for the truth is to give up your life that great guy we described earlier.

And here, of course, I run into a problem. How do I know that Jesus was like that, and said and did those things? He lived 2,000 years ago. Any information I have about Him has been passed on to me by someone else - I have to accept as true someone else's description of Him i.e. their doctrines and dogmas about Him. Even when it comes to praying to Him, the power of which, I might be tempted to think, does away with the need for boring ol' theology by simply 'deepening my friendship with Him' on an emotional level, I first have to know the truths that 1) He is to be prayed to, 2) it is possible to have friendship with Him in spite of the historical gulf between us, and 3) this by His outpouring of grace upon me. All this truth, all this theology, must come from someone else.

As if to make matters worse, I now have another problem. It seems that 'impersonal' doctrines are essential to my 'personal' spiritual life because I can't know anything about Jesus for certain without them. But whose doctrines? There are so many Christian denominations, and each paint their own picture of who my Lord and Friend truly was, and what He meant when He said and did what He said and did. Surely, it would be a disaster to try to build up a true relationship with a false Jesus? We've all seen (and perhaps been in) relationships which weren't founded on the whole truth eventually collapse, and when they do, we think to ourselves, "Well, that was bound to happen." Am I really prepared to put up with that possibility in the most important relationship I'll ever have?

Which brings us back to Newman. Believe it or not, the opening quote is from him. Here it is in context, from the speech he made upon being appointed a cardinal: "Liberalism in religion is the doctrine that there is no positive truth in religion, but that one creed is as good as another." He describes this as the "great mischief" of his time (and ours) to which he had always opposed himself, "to the best of my powers." Simply put, contrary to common opinion, it matters a great deal which church you belong to, which church's doctrines you follow, because you'll be following its 'version' of Jesus, even if you're not aware that's what you're doing. For this reason, the truth or falsehood of doctrines and dogmas is an intensely personal, spiritual matter for Newman, and for us. Where can we find the real Jesus?

In the next post, we'll take a look in more detail at Bl. John Henry's journey towards the Truth.