Skip to main content

Quote

It has been inexcusably long since I've written -- particularly given my resolution, just before the sharp drop-off in posts, to update regularly.

Many blog posts have been half-written in my head, biking home from work, but somehow I lack the motivation, conviction, or courage to do the work to making them coherent and concrete writing. Since the best way to overcome the inertia of not getting things done is to start getting things done, I will take the easy route here, in order to at least make something happen.

Thus, a quote that tickled my fancy from a Sightings (column produced by the Martin Marty Center at the University of Chicago Divinity School) article by Heather A. Hartel way back in 2008, on the Vatican's changes to the English translation of the central prayers of the liturgy.

"The new English translation mandates the return of formal language," she writes, "by insisting upon better fidelity to the Latin Missal." Apparently, the motive for the changes was to "emphasize the hierarchal authority the Church and the role of its representatives as mediators between God and the laity."

Now, I can't argue with changing the words to better represent one's theology. I might, however, argue with insisting on better fidelity, depending on how "fidelity" is defined. Translation is an art, not a science, where factors like the music of an utterance may be of equal or greater importance than its denotative meaning, and where idiomatic comprehensibility may be more important than word-for-word accuracy.

Which brings me to the quote which so amused me that I kept the column for more than a year:

"I can't help but wonder, though, if while learning the new words of the Creed, a Catholic schoolchild somewhere will mishear the word 'consubstantial,' and recite 'Constantinople with the Father.'"

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

My favourite nativity scene

“There’s no accounting for taste.” That’s my dad’s favourite way of explaining personal tastes that are incomprehensible to him, like living downtown, and riding bike in winter. The inexplicable factors which determine an individual’s likes or dislikes are probably the only way I can explain why my favourite nativity scene contains a horribly caricatured black magus, a random adoring child attired – to my fancy – like a Roma person, an old shepherd carrying some sort of blunderbuss. And a haloed holy family with an 18-month-old baby Jesus. This is the "Christmas Manger Set – the Christmas story in beautiful cut-out scenes and life-like figures." See how the 1940s-era family admires the realistic flourishes, like raw wood beams and straw protruding from the edge of the roofline; the rough, broken wood of the stalls; the tasselled camels; the richly dressed magi; the woolly sheep; the Bethlehemites on the path in the background, ostensibly out to get water, judging...

Upside down economics of Jesus: household action and global change

--Presented at a CAWG event in Altona -- In Living More with Less , Doris Janzen Longacre shares a story about envelopes from Marie Moyer, a missionary in India, who was studying Hindi with Panditji. Marie writes: “From his philosophic mind, which probed the meaning of events and circumstances, I learned more than Hindi.” Just before her teacher’s arrival one day before Christmas, she’d received and opened a pile of Christmas cards and discarded the envelopes as he walked in the room. She writes: “He sat down soberly and studied the situation, then he solemnly scolded me: ‘the reverberation of this wasteful act will be felt around the world’.” Marie was stunned. “What do you mean?” she asked him. “Those envelopes,” he said, pointing to the wastebasket. “You could write on the inside of them.” “Chagrined”, Marie apologized and rescued the envelopes with the help of Panditji, who “caressed each one” as he pulled it out of the garbage. This forever changed Marie’s relationship to p...

Broken people...

After reflecting with one coworker on how often churches in all their forms really mess up and hurt a whole bunch of people in the process -- and how "we gotta do better" -- I stumbled into another conversation with a coworker which highlighted our brokenness, and I suddenly realized what was wrong with my take in the first. I wanted the church to be better at fixing our mistakes, or better yet, at not making them in the first place. But maybe this "fix-it" attitude is partly the reason we keep blowing it again and again! My friend recollected an experience when a church community was in a terrible place: compounded mistakes, hurts, and frustrations had blown up, spewing pain all over all parties. (I'm sure anyone with a long history in the church can think of one, if not several, such occasions in their past.) A new Christian who observed all these goings on responded in an unexpected way. Instead of "you people are a bunch of screw-ups! How could this pos...