Another Highlight

Today I went to daily Mass at St. Joseph's and discovered another great change in the new translation. In Eucharistic Prayer 3, the previous line was "may He [Jesus] make us an everlasting gift to you..."

The new line now has "eternal offering." I don't mind too much about everlasting/eternal, although the latter seems to point more directly to heaven than the former. The main thing that stood out was the word "offering." Gift is a synonym of offering in some senses, but they're not an exact match. An offering brings more baggage, so to speak. All the Old Testament sacrificial offerings (most notably the Passover lamb) come to mind. The word "offering" also brings up the sacrifice of Jesus on Calvary... and our participation in it!

1 Cor 10: 16-18 "The cup of blessing which we bless, is it not a participation in the blood of Christ? The bread which we break, is it not a participation in the body of Christ? Because there is one bread, we who are many are one body, for we all partake of the one bread. Consider the people of Israel; are not those who eat the sacrifices partners in the altar?"

Col 1:24 "Now I rejoice in my sufferings for your sake, and in my flesh I complete what is lacking in Christ's afflictions for the sake of his body, that is, the church"

With these two passages, St. Paul is trying to convey how intimately we're involved in the sacrifice of Jesus. We're not just outside observers! We are partners in the sacrifice and we can take our own sufferings and offer our sacrifices in union with Christ's sacrifice on Calvary.

Having "offering" in Eucharistic Prayer 3 adds layers of richness to the words.

New Liturgical Year, New Translation for Mass!

Today is the first Sunday of Advent! Gone is the season of Ordinary Time... gone are green vestments... the apocalyptic readings of the past month have taken a back seat to the great time of preparation. Also gone is the translation of the Mass that was used for my entire life. It's a bit surreal to think about, not to mention that this will be the translation of the Mass that I'll hear until I die. The third edition of the Roman Missal was used today at our parish for the first time--and I have a number of thoughts about it. Here they are, in no particular order of importance.

• I've read a lot of articles and blog posts on this subject, and there's frequent mention of the passing of the previous translation as if a loved one had died. There were other less charitable comments sniping at the Magisterium, infuriated that the bishops didn't ask them about their feelings on changing the translation. My experience has been nothing like that, however. I can't relate to either of those at all... and the "pastoral sensitivity" reflex I gained in the seminary screams at me, that I'm wrong for not relating to those feelings. I don't feel guilty in this case, however. In fact, I look with a degree of scorn on ICEL of the 1960s and the authoring of the previous translation. I don't have a problem with Magisterial authority that promulgated the old translation. I do have a problem that ICEL left out words, phrases, and watered the prayers of the Mass down. Hearing some of the more poetic language today (in addition to bigger, theological words like 'consubstantial'), regaining the riches of the Latin text... LOOK AT WHAT WE'VE BEEN MISSING FOR 40 YEARS!!!!!!!!!!!!! You can dismiss me as a church geek but that's my story and I'm stickin' to it. (shout out to Fr. Brooks Beaulaurier!)
• One of the best quotes I found about the above sentiment is a brief quote from a "First Things" article by Wolfhart Pannenberg, quoted in the Magnificat companion. I believe he said it so well that I need not comment about it: "The absolutely worst way to respond to the challenge of secularism is to adapt to secular standards in language, thought, and way of life. If members of a secularist society turn to religion at all, they do so because they are looking for something other than what that culture already provides." (full article here)
• As I experienced greater liturgies as a result of my time in the seminary, I started to view the style of Mass I saw from my youth as very horizontal. Yes, the horizontal dimension of the liturgy is very important... but it's secondary to the vertical dimension. We don't come to pat ourselves on the back or be in community: we come to worship God. Every other aspect of the Mass flows out of that. The language of the new translation seems to recapture the vertical dimension. It was never absent (nor could it be) but it was not highlighted as prominently.
• One of my favorite lines was: "Behold the Lamb of God, behold Him who takes away the sins of the world. Blessed are those called to the supper of the Lamb." Love it on multiple levels! For one, this is cool for me because I'm reading through the Book of Revelation right now. The "supper of the Lamb" comes right from Revelation, referring to the wedding feast of the Lamb (Rev 19:9). Secondly, I like how it highlights the marriage/wedding imagery of the covenant between Christ and his Church. I love the intimacy of the image... and it means so much more to me now that I've been married for a little over a year. I have a better picture of the love God has for me because of the love that my wife has showed me.
• Fr. Philip, our pastor, noted some things about the new translation that were worth writing down. He related a point from a talk by Fr. Jeremy Driscoll, a.k.a. best teacher ever: elements of the prayers come directly from Jesus (the institution narrative at the last supper), directly from St. Paul's pen (the introduction to the Mass, "Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ be with you..."), and come from the history and tradition of the Church. How amazing is that???? The Roman Missal is so much bigger than us! (my words, not Fr. Philip's, lest he get in trouble) We can't forget in the varied reactions to the new Missal that it transcends country, century, and culture! When we participate in Mass every week, we are joined to the one Eucharistic sacrifice; we are in mystical communion with the Holy Trinity, the Angels, the Communion of Saints, and with every Mass said "from the rising of the sun to its setting" (Euch. Prayer 3, Mal 1:11). To quote The Matrix, that'll bake your noodle. What an amazing blessing that the Church cares so much about the Mass that she has given us this new translation to better enter into it!

I don't always speak my mind such, especially on the first bullet point. Pressing the 'publish post' button makes me a little nervous. If anyone other than my parents, father-in-law, and sister reads this and would like to discuss it further, please, let's discuss! I'd ask your gracious consideration of my opinion and I will return the favor.

Light Bulb Moments

I thought I'd set a personal record for posting twice in one week. As I was reading the Book of Revelation, I had one of those "light bulb" moments. In cartoons since I was a kid, if any character died or pretended to die, an angel-version of that character (Wiley Coyote, for example) with wings and a harp would slowly ascend up to heaven. I never thought much of it. There are angels in heaven, harps are peaceful instruments, heaven is peaceful; there you go!

In Revelation, St. John has a number of visions of heaven. In Rev 14:2, he describes a voice coming from heaven that "was like the sound of harpers playing on their harps." Later in Rev 15:2, there are "those who had conquered the beast... with harps of God in their hands."

I found that very interesting! What better place to look for a visual image of death & heaven than the book of Revelation? I don't know what it says about me that my first thought was in the direction of cartoons rather than anything pious. Still, I think it's a reasonable conclusion that someone on the Looney Tunes animation team was a Christian. There may be other reasonable explanations, but I haven't consulted the omnicient Google yet...

In the Garden

It's official, I'm just as lazy with this blog as I was with past ones. Eh. The following was a post I meant to publish (doesn't that sound official!) a few weeks ago. Actually, it's probably more like a month ago.

My father-in-law hauled over his rototiller and went through the backyard. I helped and later cleaned the gutters. As I worked in the yard, it struck me how many spiritual lessons could be garnered from the garden. One of the first was general frustration. How many of us want the beautiful yard but would rather not do the work? The thing is, you can't expect polished yard without sweat and hard work. People who can hire a landscaping company aren't a part of this example, by the way. Too frequently we forget that the finished product depends on the hard work and is a result of the sweat.

Another lesson is from weeds. Unattended weeds take over a yard quickly and get exponentially worse. Some have diabolical, pernicious root systems that are nearly impossible to remove. In that they're strikingly similar to the bad habits/regular sins. The longer we tolerate sin and refuse to eradicate our bad habits, the more they dig in. You can strike at the weed/the sin above ground, but the true way to get rid of it is to uproot it. And they're maddening to eradicate; every time you think you got rid of them, they come back.

I was digging up & turning over dirt next to the fence where the rototiller couldn't reach. Looking at my shovel and the length of the fence, I swore. Isn't the spiritual life the same? If we look too far ahead and see all the work we have to do, who wouldn't despair? Or think that it would be easier to give up than it would be to start? Once I did start digging & turning over the soil, I'd get a few feet and look back at how far I'd gone. Next I'd question the point of doing that much, since it felt like I hardly made a dent.

Progress is an odd thing in the spiritual life, since it often comes in times we don't expect. That is, those little good works that feel meaningless (like spading dirt along the fence). Those times of suffering when it felt like anything but growth. God knows us and perfectly understands what we need to grow--so He sends us people that love us, a Church to guide us, and consolations along the way.

Incidentally, thinking about the yardwork in a spiritual way was one of the few times I'd ever really felt like I was doing my work for the Lord. I've always known that I could, and I can connect the dots intellectually. But feeling it? That's new! Damn I'm a slow learner.

Them's Fightin' Words

A while ago, I conversed with one of my best friends regarding Bible translations. There are so many translations out there: what one should you pick?

Right from the start, any translation of the Bible lose things on the way from one language to another. To get intellectual here, I'll use the word "dude" as an example. Sure, there are slang words in other languages that more or less fit the English version, but so much would get lost! A surfer's "Dude!", a stoner's "duuuuuuddddee...", "DUDE!" used as an angry exclamation, it could go on and on. A translation could get the literal meaning across; it couldn't possibly get the connotation across.

Thus, not everything translates elegantly. But since we American Catholics aren't fluent in Greek, we have to do our best with the translations we have.

A Scriptural example of a translation problem is 1 Timothy 6:12. "Fight the good fight of the faith, take hold of the eternal life to which you were called when you made the good confession in the presence of many witnesses." (Revised Standard Version, Catholic Edition). I'll just focus on the first phrase, "fight the good fight of the faith."

What do the main Catholic translations have?

Douay-Rheims (DR): "Fight the good fight of faith"

New American Bible (NAB): "Compete well for the faith"

New Jerusalem Bible (NJB): "Fight the good fight of faith"

New Revised Standard Version, Catholic Edition (NRSV): "Fight the good fight of the faith"

All consistent except for the NAB. I really hope this was fixed in the revised NAB that came out a few months ago! The translation really bothered me and I decided to investigate it.

1) Literal

Looking it up in the Greek-English interlinear New Testament, there are two words in that phrase that correspond to "fight the good fight." Before going further, I must fully disclose: I can't read a lick of Greek. This won't have anything to do with the literal meanings of these words. But any schmuck such as myself could look at all the squiggly characters and see two very similar words AND that the NAB leaves one of them out. Even if the word "fight" was translated as "compete," the NAB only includes the verb ("compete") and leaves out the noun "fight."

2) Figurative/Behind the Words

The theological dictionary that I consulted about the word "fight" (and its grammatical relatives) described pre-NT uses of the words as well as the scriptural ones. In secular usage, these words referred to the Greek stadium and its varied contests and conflicts. The usage didn't stop there, however. In the writings of some Greek philosophers, the meaning of the "fight" words extended to include exercise in virtue and striving to live a moral life. Those meanings were still around and in use in St. Paul's day. He not only uses the "fight" words but also uses some war-like imagery. More on that later.

3) Fight vs. Compete: other uses in the NT

In Sacred Scripture, St. Paul employed the "fight" words more than once in his letters. Here is a list of the verses where the same word "fight" is used (Strong #75):

Luke 13:24: "Strive to enter by the narrow door; for many, I tell you, will seek to enter and will not be able."

In this teaching one can assume that striving wasn't something particularly easy. We can also hear echoes of "take up your cross and follow me."

John 18:36: "Jesus answered, 'My kingship is not of this world; if my kingship were of this world, my servants would fight, that I might not be handed over to the Jews..."

Here, fighting refers directly to battle.

1 Cor 9:25: "Every athlete exercises self-control in all things. They do it to receive a perishable wreath, but we an imperishable."

The context here is athletic competition. Paul continues on and uses boxing as imagery. Did you know boxing was in the Bible?

Col 1:29: "For this I toil, striving with all the energy which he mightily inspires within me."

Striving here again. Feel the weight in St. Paul's words... toil... striving with all the energy...

Col 4:12: "Epaphras, who is one of yourselves, a servant of Christ Jesus, greets you, always remembering you earnestly in his prayers..."

Without knowing Greek, the use of the word "remembering" sounds a little odd, given the preceding verses. Still, the tone of the adverb "earnestly" goes along with striving.

1 Tim 4:10: "For to this end we toil and strive, because we have our hope set on the living God, who is the Savior of all men, especially of those who believe."

Striving again, just like in Colossians and Luke.

2 Tim 4:7: "I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith."

This echoes the verse in question (1 Tim 6:12). Interestingly, the NAB is consistent: it translates "fought the good fight" as "competed well."

Words can mean a variety of things depending on the context. Striving, fighting... the Greek word (however it's pronounced) seems to carry a lot of anguish with it.

4) The Final Round: the Context of Paul's Letters to Timothy

This comes only from my own reflections; I haven't consulted any commentaries about this. St. Paul's overall tone to Timothy suggests that the protege needs to be a little more bold. Paul uses a lot of verbs in the command form. The tone is so different than Paul's other letters that some scholars (okay, I looked that part up) think that Paul didn't really write them. I don't believe that, however. These two letters were from an experienced veteran to a rookie who was struggling with certain aspects of his ministry. Many of the verbs are in the command form: do, fight, preach, admonish.

Bottom line: I think the NAB castrates 1 Tim 6:12. Their translation could be perfectly valid, but I don't like their omission of "fight" (see above) and I don't think "compete well" fits with the overall context of St. Paul's letters to Timothy. Translators have a tough job, but one of their duties is to not suck the vitality out of the original text.

For the Beauty of the Earth...

Sometimes the majesty of God is grand and overwhelming; sometimes His majesty is best expressed in a whisper. As I drove to work this morning, a thin layer of fog veiled the nearby foothills. The hills and the trees were a dark silhouette against the blue sky; the sun was just starting to make its way over the clouds. This was not a wonder of the world, not the Grand Canyon, not a mountain top view. Those hills were quite the opposite: small, humble... but no less beautiful. The Lord's handiwork glows just as much in the smaller things as it does the larger things.

Mountains and hills, bless the Lord! (Daniel 3:75)

This Just In: People Have Weird Ideas About Jesus

I've finished reading Fr. Mitch Pacwa's Catholics and the New Age, a book equally informative and testimonial.  He isn't simply writing a book pointing out the incompatibility of Catholicism and the New Age movement; he experienced and experimented with New Age practices in the 1970s.   I've found his narrative very valuable because of that experience.

I came across some material that reminded me of a confusing conversation a few years ago.  When I worked at Easter's Catholic Books & Gifts in Sacramento, one customer mentioned "ego suffering" in a conversation.  I don't remember what led up to that point.  This customer told myself and one of the owners that Jesus didn't actually suffer on the cross.  It was actually ego suffering.  Neither of us had heard that term before and didn't know what it meant.  She had learned about this on the Cursillo retreat (of which she was very proud)... and I assume it was a fluke, since I have heard otherwise great things about the Cursillo retreats.

As far as I can tell, this "ego suffering" probably comes from the enneagram, a New Age circle thing that has nine points/personality types.  The opposites of the personality types were different ego characteristics.  "Each ego characteristics was described as a poisonous way of being and relating. No ego  could be retained; removal was the sole cure." (Pacwa, Catholics and the New Age pg. 101)  Maybe that customer meant that Jesus was suffering in order to get to His essence?  Get rid of that ego?  Who knows... when I read that part of Fr. Mitch's book, it sounded like it fit.

It really sounded gnostic.  Gnosticism was a heresy that the Church encountered in the 2nd Century; it had many different manifestations because of the number of crackpots involved.  One of the common features was that the gnostic leaders offered secret knowledge (gnosis is Greek for knowledge) that led to salvation.  St. Irenaeus wrote against this particular heresy... up until the last century, the actual contents of the gnostic writings weren't known; all scholars had was St. Irenaeus' response salvo.  Scholars actually criticized him, saying that he was going over the top in his criticisms just to make his point.  When the gnostic documents at Nag Hammadi were dug up, scholars saw that St. Irenaeus wasn't going over the top after all.  The gnostic writings were just that weird!

The Gnostics missed the boat, however; there isn't any secrecy when it comes to the teachings of Jesus.  Jesus first had a public ministry of teaching and then established His Church to make sure that His message would go out to all the world.  The Bible describes the Apostles teaching in public squares; St. Paul sailed around the eastern Mediterranean, going everywhere he could.  There was nothing secret about that!

The customer's assertion of Jesus not really suffering is flat wrong.  Maybe some New Agers think that, maybe some misguided Catholics or Christians believe that.  St. Paul himself says in 1 Corinthians: "we preach Christ crucified" (1:23).  There wasn't some deeper, secret meaning, only this: for the sake of every human soul, Jesus suffered and died on the cross.