I spent the day at St Chad's Cathedral in Birmingham at a day workshop introducing new settings of the psalms from Advent Sunday, when they become mandatory in English-speaking Catholic Churches.
Now readers expecting a bit of tasty reading suitable for the Strictly mindset must be disappointed at me delving into religion on this forum, but I make no apology any more than anyone writing here should. No subject is out of bounds; not even religion. It may be of great fascination to radical (as opposed to conventional) theologians, but perhaps others could consider it in the context of any religious texts, not just Christian ones, or even of any literature, sacred or not. They all tell stories,
As regards the new lectionary, I feel myself that it was money ill spent, since all the prayer books were replaced in 2011 after the new Missal was introduced to replace a modern translation from 1973. It seems daft, since they are almost new, and it is a big expense perhaps better spent.
It took many centuries for the Catholic Church to accept translations into the local vernacular, rather than Vulgate Latin. One Guy Fawkes attempted to blow up Parliament because he did not want the Word of God spoken in English in church, regardless of what King James decreed.
It was the Second Vatican Council in the 20th century that finally permitted the use of English, and upon this Damascene conversion, there was no stopping them. The result was a set of Bible readings to be said at Mass spanning every day over a 3-year cycle that was the envy of Protestants. Indeed, the Scottish Presbyterians once said that the greatest gift the Catholics gave to Christianity over two millennia was the modern lectionary.
The problem, as it was when Latin was the only language approved for use in church, is that nobody can be certain whether the modern terminology properly represents the intentions of the ancient writers of scripture or may be introducing all sorts of artifices that bear no resemblance to scripture or liturgy approved by the Holy See.
Sometimes there is no word existing in a foreign language, and any one found is at best an approximation. Sometimes too, words can change their meaning entirely as language evolves, and in quite a short space of time.
Take the old hymn "There is a green hill far away without a city wall". Throughout my childhood, I pondered that most green hills lack such structures, and the even those that once had them might have lost them in the Blitz or down to 1960s property developers. Worcester's city wall is no more, just an inner relief road. It never struck me that what the hymn writer was trying to say that "There is a green hill beyond (or outside) a city wall". Yet when it was written, it was quite logical that 'without' was a direct opposite of 'within' as 'outside' and 'inside' are still direct opposites.
So we come to today's workshop. The two musicians presenting it were deeply sceptical about the new translation, and I think secretly wished it had never happened. One jobsworth deacon stood up and said that they were wrong to criticise the authority of the Vatican, and that their vocation was to obey. The response was that, yes, they had to use the new words at Mass, but outside Mass, they were free to sing whatever songs fitted the occasion.
When the Second Vatican Council settled on an English translation in the 1960s, they decided to use the Jerusalem Bible, which was the first to attempt to translate literally from ancient scripture, rather than the Latin Vulgate, but felt free to adapt to the rhythm, beauty and above all the current meaning of the modern vernacular. The scholars were French, and another set of scholars then translated the French into English, which produced a work of great beauty, but some in the Vatican were concerned that meanings were being changed from French to English. They also attempted to mimic the rhythm of the ancient Hebrew, which is quite a musical language and a joy to set, but compromises might have been made as to the strict interpretation of the Word. The psalms had their own translation, known as the Grail, also produced in French and then put into English from there. This was the translation used for all readings and psalm settings from the 1960s until 2024.
The preferred translation then was decided upon as the Revised Standard Version, and the Abbey psalter, which was compiled by American liturgists and then adapted into British English. This is regarded as clunkier and does not flow musically was well, as well as being harder to convey a story to a dozy congregation who might struggle with formal religiosity.
The intention was to make it truer to the original texts, adopting a more formal approach rather than something easier for a modern ear to take in. A certain amount of "inclusive gender neutral" language was though used, but more sparingly than some wished. I agree with those responsible that "inclusivity" has gone too far and verging on lunacy, so I think they were sensible over this. I suspect though that the RSV translators were influenced by their own preferences, especially since Americans have a great fondness for King James, whereas British Catholics were raised on Jerusalem.
I shall now cite verses from Psalm 117 (118 in some copies) in both forms and then discuss various changes in meaning and nuance in modern English. Now, I have very little if any knowledge of ancient Hebrew, and if there is any of us who can speak the language, please comment below, and say how it should be interpreted. This was in the context of a sung psalm, which according to Catholic practice has a congregational response, and verses sung by the cantor in between.
First the Jerusalem version (although in my Jerusalem Bible, the name God follows the Hebrew practice of using a mnemonic "Yahweh" (meaning "I am what I am"), since according to the rules of the time, God must not be named, since in so doing, it places a limit on something that is far greater than human understanding. I believe Jews follow this practice even today). The lectionary wisely abandoned this practice, so as not to confuse the congregation.
"Response: Give thanks to the Lord for he is good, for his love has no end.
Let the sons of Israel say 'His love has no end'.
Let the sons of Aaron say 'His love has no end'.
Let those who fear the Lord say 'His love has no end'.
The stone which the builders rejected has become the corner stone.
This is the work of the Lord, a marvel in our eyes.
This day was made by the Lord; we rejoice and are glad.
O Lord, grant us salvation; O Lord, grant success.
Blessed in the name of the Lord is he who comes.
We bless you from the house of the Lord;
The Lord God is our light."
Now compare this to the new RSV version of the same texts:
"Response: Give praise to the Lord for he is good; his mercy endures for ever.
Let the house of Israel say 'His mercy endures for ever'.
Let the house of Aaron say 'His mercy endures for ever'.
Let those who fear the Lord say 'His mercy endures for ever'.
The stone that the builders rejected has become the cornerstone.
By the Lord has this been done, a marvel in our eyes.
This is the day the Lord has made;
let us rejoice in it and be glad.
We beseech you, O Lord, grant salvation;
We beseech you, O Lord, grant success.
Blest is he who comes in the name of the Lord.
We bless you from the house of the Lord;
the Lord is God, and has given us light."
I make the following observations:
Jerusalem gives thanks whereas RSV gives praise. This could be interpreted in one that God is not always good, and we should be grateful when He is, whereas the other praises God unconditionally.
Jerusalem uses the generic word 'Love' which can mean many things that are separated out in ancient terminology, especially among the Greeks. Americans tend to regard 'Love' as being carnal, whereas a European understanding is much broader. RSV uses the word 'mercy' (I have heard 'charity' also used in other places in the place of 'Love'), but this limits God somewhat, I feel. He may be merciful, but he is lots of other good things too.
Jerusalem says that God's love has no end, whereas RSV's endures for ever. Again, I feel that RSV is limiting the scope of God to timelessness, whereas Jerusalem makes it far more than this, implying also depth and variety.
The word 'house' in place of 'sons' is a modern attempt at inclusive language, and goes directly against what was originally expressed, albeit to appeal to a modern congregation. I do think it is probably the tidiest way to do this. I once not long ago heard a Palestinian farmer say "I am a son of Jacob", which suggests that the "non-inclusive" usage persists in the Holy Land to this day.
Placing 'By the Lord' at the start (RSV) rather than 'This' (Jerusalem) alters the emphasis. RSV places less importance on the great works done by God, as opposed to being more impressed that it was God wot dun it,
Jerusalem's 'We rejoice' as opposed to RSV's 'Let us rejoice' exposes a particular bugbear of mine when leading the intercessions. One is a statement of fact, and an order to the congregation to be happy, and the other is invitation to include what is asked in our own prayers. I actually prefer RSV here, although some may feel it undermines the authority of the church.
"We beseech you" in RSV is a curious anachronism in something intended for modern tongues. How many, not wearing a dog collar, actually ever say that? This seems an example of King James creeping in. In Jerusalem, the intention to prayer is implied, but seems clear enough what we are doing.
I criticised RSV for placing limitations on God's power, but the next example, it is Jerusalem that is doing this. RSV grants salvation, implying universality, whereas Jerusalem limits this to us, and makes no mention of anyone else, real or implied.
The blessing in Jerusalem is in the name of the Lord and intended for "he who comes". Christians would consider this to refer to Christ, and Jews to the Messiah. In RSV, it is he who comes in the name of the Lord, which could also refer to Christ. It is quite subtle, since the blessing in Jerusalem is God's to give, whereas in RSV, it belongs to Christ. Any catechist can say though that God and Christ are one and the same, which might once again limit God to something human.
Finally, in Jerusalem it is God that is light, whereas in RSV, God has given us light. Whilst I like the idea that God is the source of enlightenment, Genesis states quite clearly the latter in the phrase "Let there be light, and there was light".
If anyone has got to the end of this, they deserve a gold star!
I look forward to the observations of others, especially those not necessarily attuned to Christianity.