Justice demands that we worship God’s majesty
The Church began to use a more accurate English translation of the Mass in Advent 2011. It was the most important spirituality event in the English-speaking world since Vatican Council II.
But the Church in Ireland has done little to help the faithful to appreciate the spiritual benefits of the change.
We will never know how much the first translation contributed to the massive collapse in the practice of the faith that has happened since the 1960s.
Or the depth of harm it did to the faith and spirituality of generations of priests and lay people.
The old version was not simply inaccurate, as many believe. It deliberately diluted and even distorted Catholic teaching on point after point.
Prayers that were rooted in God’s Word or enriched by allusions to Scripture, were stripped of many of these references to produce, at best, a trite text.
Take the Preface, for example. The old translation had the priest call on the congregation to “give thanks to the Lord our God” and they replied, “It is right to give him thanks and praise.”
We do well
Then the priest said: “Father all-powerful and ever-living God, we do well always and everywhere to give you thanks...”
Today the congregation replies to the call to give God thanks with the words, “It is right and just.”
Then the priest continues: “It is truly right and just, our duty and our salvation, always and everywhere to give you thanks, Lord, holy Father, almighty and eternal God.”
Firstly, note here the return of the word “just”. It reminds us that justice, giving God his due, is fundamental to our relationship with the Creator. Thanks for his blessings, including our existence, is part of what is due to God.
Failure as a community to thank God is the most radical breach of justice.
Secondly the shallow “we do well” is replaced with “it is truly right and just, our duty and our salvation...”
We “do well” to brush our teeth or to drive carefully, but infinitely more is at stake in our celebration of the Eucharist. At issue is justice to God, our duty to God and even our salvation.
These truths are immensely important, but easily forgotten, so the Church needs to remind us of them again and again.
Worship
Prayer and worship are fundamental in our lives. “As we pray, so we believe.” We must worship, then, as God teaches us, not as we decide for ourselves.
Which takes us to a second major change in the new translation - its frequent references to God’s majesty.
The first translators, seriously misguided, eliminated every reference to divine “majesty” from the prayers of the Mass. This was a disaster for the Church and for souls. The references have been restored.
Neglect of God’s majesty deeply distorted our understanding of God and of the way we should relate to him.
It weakened, in particular, our sense of awed reverence in his presence and our creaturely duty to obey his will in all things.
To grasp the full power of the word “majesty” as used in Mass we need to consider ancient times.
Modern constitutional monarchs have little power. Their role is largely ceremonial. But in the ancient world, including Israel, the king had supreme authority.
He may have had officials but he alone decided. And the welfare of the people depended on his decisions. This is the kind of king God is.
In Israel, however, the king was not supreme. Infinitely more majestic than the king was God, and it was his wisdom and love which ruled the world. A just and good king governed in keeping with God’s wise law.
Supreme ruler
It was natural, then, for people and prophets to turn to their experience of majesty when they attempted to understand the mystery of God, creator and supreme ruler of all.
Throughout both the Old and the New Testament the dominant image of God is as king.
Isaiah tells how his call to be a prophet came when he “saw the Lord sitting upon a throne, high and lifted up” (Is. 6,1).
Ezekiel tries to communicate the awesome divine majesty. He saw “the likeness of a throne, in appearance like sapphire; and seated above it was a likeness as it were of a human form” (Ez 1,26). Seeing God’s majesty, “the glory of the Lord,” he fell on his face and worshipped.
Announcing the gospel, Jesus proclaimed: “the kingdom of God is at hand.” For him, too, God the Father is, first and foremost, majestic. In his parables heaven “is like a king who...” (Matt 18,23; 22,2).
Finally, the Book of Revelation recounts the great vision of heaven with God “seated on the throne” (4,20). The Mass soaks us in this transforming vision of divine majesty, to instill in us a profound reverence for God.
But the Church in Ireland has done little to help the faithful to appreciate the spiritual benefits of the change.
We will never know how much the first translation contributed to the massive collapse in the practice of the faith that has happened since the 1960s.
Or the depth of harm it did to the faith and spirituality of generations of priests and lay people.
The old version was not simply inaccurate, as many believe. It deliberately diluted and even distorted Catholic teaching on point after point.
Prayers that were rooted in God’s Word or enriched by allusions to Scripture, were stripped of many of these references to produce, at best, a trite text.
Take the Preface, for example. The old translation had the priest call on the congregation to “give thanks to the Lord our God” and they replied, “It is right to give him thanks and praise.”
We do well
Then the priest said: “Father all-powerful and ever-living God, we do well always and everywhere to give you thanks...”
Today the congregation replies to the call to give God thanks with the words, “It is right and just.”
Then the priest continues: “It is truly right and just, our duty and our salvation, always and everywhere to give you thanks, Lord, holy Father, almighty and eternal God.”
Firstly, note here the return of the word “just”. It reminds us that justice, giving God his due, is fundamental to our relationship with the Creator. Thanks for his blessings, including our existence, is part of what is due to God.
Failure as a community to thank God is the most radical breach of justice.
Secondly the shallow “we do well” is replaced with “it is truly right and just, our duty and our salvation...”
We “do well” to brush our teeth or to drive carefully, but infinitely more is at stake in our celebration of the Eucharist. At issue is justice to God, our duty to God and even our salvation.
These truths are immensely important, but easily forgotten, so the Church needs to remind us of them again and again.
Worship
Prayer and worship are fundamental in our lives. “As we pray, so we believe.” We must worship, then, as God teaches us, not as we decide for ourselves.
Which takes us to a second major change in the new translation - its frequent references to God’s majesty.
The first translators, seriously misguided, eliminated every reference to divine “majesty” from the prayers of the Mass. This was a disaster for the Church and for souls. The references have been restored.
Neglect of God’s majesty deeply distorted our understanding of God and of the way we should relate to him.
It weakened, in particular, our sense of awed reverence in his presence and our creaturely duty to obey his will in all things.
To grasp the full power of the word “majesty” as used in Mass we need to consider ancient times.
Modern constitutional monarchs have little power. Their role is largely ceremonial. But in the ancient world, including Israel, the king had supreme authority.
He may have had officials but he alone decided. And the welfare of the people depended on his decisions. This is the kind of king God is.
In Israel, however, the king was not supreme. Infinitely more majestic than the king was God, and it was his wisdom and love which ruled the world. A just and good king governed in keeping with God’s wise law.
Supreme ruler
It was natural, then, for people and prophets to turn to their experience of majesty when they attempted to understand the mystery of God, creator and supreme ruler of all.
Throughout both the Old and the New Testament the dominant image of God is as king.
Isaiah tells how his call to be a prophet came when he “saw the Lord sitting upon a throne, high and lifted up” (Is. 6,1).
Ezekiel tries to communicate the awesome divine majesty. He saw “the likeness of a throne, in appearance like sapphire; and seated above it was a likeness as it were of a human form” (Ez 1,26). Seeing God’s majesty, “the glory of the Lord,” he fell on his face and worshipped.
Announcing the gospel, Jesus proclaimed: “the kingdom of God is at hand.” For him, too, God the Father is, first and foremost, majestic. In his parables heaven “is like a king who...” (Matt 18,23; 22,2).
Finally, the Book of Revelation recounts the great vision of heaven with God “seated on the throne” (4,20). The Mass soaks us in this transforming vision of divine majesty, to instill in us a profound reverence for God.