I hasten to say that IMHO there's nothing intrinsically Wrong™ with the Reformed tradition you describe, but it does perhaps place an extra responsibility on ministers, and other worship leaders.
I'm not much of a fan of this attempt - I think I share the opinion of those who would use a jussive subjunctive rather than an imperative for shine, and I don't think fulgere has quite the right sense - lucere is better.
But surely it's second person rather than third, so Luceas, Iesu, luceas.
Hmm - our old school motto was Floreat Schola [redacted]. I don't think my Latin master word have reacted well to my translating that as "Flourish, [redacted] School!".
I definitely see the Shine in SJS as an imperative. If it were "May Jesus Shine" then yes, but that's not the meaning I take from it.
Why the Second Person of the Trinity needs encouragement I know not, but that's what I see there. It's full of imperatives; fill, blaze, flow. I get the background hopeful sense but grammatically it just looks like an imperative to me. It's formally no different to run, rabbit, run!
I definitely see the Shine in SJS as an imperative. If it were "May Jesus Shine" then yes, but that's not the meaning I take from it.
Why the Second Person of the Trinity needs encouragement I know not, but that's what I see there. It's full of imperatives; fill, blaze, flow. I get the background hopeful sense but grammatically it just looks like an imperative to me. It's formally no different to run, rabbit, run!
This. No clue what that means for a Latin translation, but I can’t see how to understand “shine,” “fill,” “blaze,” “set on fire,” “flow,” “flood” and “send forth” as anything but imperatives addresses to Jesus.
I am no expert on such things, but it strikes me that quite a large minority of people experience religion in a language they do not fully understand. Some have special languages they only use for worship (including, I think, the Copts and Ethiopian Orthodox). Some have languages they have to learn as a second, third etc language (non-arabic speaking Muslims).
Then there are a lot of people who attend worship outside of the language they use at home. Which must be quite a large number across the globe.
Some even appear to choose an option in another language other than their first language.
In fact one might even say that English first-language speakers are particularly unusual in having (usually) such a wide variety of services and groups to attend in the vernacular, which might explain (stating the obvious) why it seems odd to an English-speaker to choose non-English worship.
I am no expert on such things, but it strikes me that quite a large minority of people experience religion in a language they do not fully understand. Some have special languages they only use for worship (including, I think, the Copts and Ethiopian Orthodox). Some have languages they have to learn as a second, third etc language (non-arabic speaking Muslims).
If memory serves even for Arabic-speaking Muslims the distance between classical and modern Arabic (aside from the fact that modern Arabic has wildly divergent dialects) is pretty big, on a par with Middle or even Old English to modern English.
I am no expert on such things, but it strikes me that quite a large minority of people experience religion in a language they do not fully understand. Some have special languages they only use for worship (including, I think, the Copts and Ethiopian Orthodox). Some have languages they have to learn as a second, third etc language (non-arabic speaking Muslims).
If memory serves even for Arabic-speaking Muslims the distance between classical and modern Arabic (aside from the fact that modern Arabic has wildly divergent dialects) is pretty big, on a par with Middle or even Old English to modern English.
And there Orthodox churches in the diaspora who preserve their liturgical language for cultural reasons. Sometimes long after there are native speakers in the congregation.
I am no expert on such things, but it strikes me that quite a large minority of people experience religion in a language they do not fully understand. Some have special languages they only use for worship (including, I think, the Copts and Ethiopian Orthodox). Some have languages they have to learn as a second, third etc language (non-arabic speaking Muslims).
If memory serves even for Arabic-speaking Muslims the distance between classical and modern Arabic (aside from the fact that modern Arabic has wildly divergent dialects) is pretty big, on a par with Middle or even Old English to modern English.
And there Orthodox churches in the diaspora who preserve their liturgical language for cultural reasons. Sometimes long after there are native speakers in the congregation.
And it's been a long time since anyone spoke Church Slavonic. A russophone friend tells me that it's not too terribly off the Shakespearian/contemporary English parallel; he says that one of the challenges and attractions of Solzhenitsyn's writing was the frequent use of liturgicalish archaisms. Several of my Coptic friends no longer understand the liturgical language, and its Arabic replacement is like Greek to their children, so services are gradually getting francized and anglicized, while keeping enough Arabic for the older people, and enough liturgical Coptic for the really grumpy older people. It makes for longer services.
In minority language communities, funerals are always where the old language features. Clerical friends tell me that they must pay attention both to those for whom the familiar language is important at an emotional time-- even the most secular Russians know the Pamyat hymn from funerals-- shipmates might recall the opening minutes of Dr Zhivago-- , but also to speak to the children and grandchildren, who often have no more than kitchen Serb/Arabic/whatever, and are rarely worshippers.
As a general rule worship should be in the language used by worshippers, but the world is not always neat and tidy. Somewhere in the MW archives is my review of the Anglican cathedral in Buenos Aires, where they handled using both Spanish and English in the service and did so very smoothly, with interpretation of the sermon. Even at Saint Onophorio's in Ottawa, I know that several of the congregants are francophone but manage in English. In my travels, I've often been at services in French and Spanish, but even in Euzkadi I could follow the service by its structure and rhythm.
At periods when I've been working on my French or Spanish, I would follow the English service using a French or Spanish text, as I found that each language provided a different lens to the meaning of the text. Sometimes this works with Latin, but mine is too rusty for words. Latin is so rarely taught in schools these days (I think only 4 public schools in Ottawa) that an English translation should be provided for those who want to go above the music.
Generally, cathedral services, as mentioned above, are a few levels above most parish services, and can follow their own approach to the rules without danger.
I have been at services in West Africa where three or even more languages were used. For instance, song singing in Balanta, Bijago, Kriol and Portuguese, with a sermon in Kriol but interpreted into the other two local languages. Such services had a tendency to prolixity ...
I preside but don't (yet) preach in Māori, in which I am far from fluent or even conversant - though I can tell you to get out of bed and a few other phrases of liturgical and everyday Māori that have sunk in. It's slowly growing. When I preside some present are fluent, some au fait, some not one whit. Not sure how that relates.
I think SJS has been translated into Māori but I haven't seen it. I don't think Māori has a future perfect subjunctive. Or something (actually I think it would add verbal qualifiers, as English does, but that's a whole other can of worms).
Guinea-Bissau Kriol stumped me for a while because of the way it forms tenses. Basically everything is spoken in the present; then there is a "marker" which says, "Now we're going into the future/past" and then one continues using the present. In other words, the time markers are only used when one is jumping to an earlier or later time. This is actually quite sensible as it enables one to go into the far distant past or future with ease, however it took me a long time to "get it" and some of colleagues never did. There were also markers for "continuative" and, I'm sure, other things; but these related to the specific verb).
Of course when one is speaking in another language one does make howlers. After one evangelistic sermon I was informed that I'd told my listeners that "all sinners are sinners"; after one closing prayer in a youth meeting I discovered that I'd asked God "to be with us all until we get married"; while my wife informed a women's group that Jesus, rather than being hungry, "had a fat wife".
Why the Second Person of the Trinity needs encouragement I know not, but that's what I see there. It's full of imperatives; fill, blaze, flow. I get the background hopeful sense but grammatically it just looks like an imperative to me. It's formally no different to run, rabbit, run!
Surely it can be grammatically imperative while being functionally an invitation rather than a command.
In the same way as you might say, 'Come in! Take a seat!' to a welcome and long-awaited visitor.
In modern Italian the imperative when speaking in the respectful form to someone is actually a third person subjunctive.
If you think about it 'imperative' means 'order' and you cannot really order a superior to do something, you can only suggest politely'
'God bless the Prince of Wales' has a verb in the 3rd person singular form of the subjunctive .It is a sort of polite form of an imperative.
And there Orthodox churches in the diaspora who preserve their liturgical language for cultural reasons. Sometimes long after there are native speakers in the congregation.
It's interesting. The Gallican, Roman, and Byzantine rites I'm particularly familiar with, so can worship in any language in those rites and still feel at home, as I know the prayers and the hymns that constitute the Liturgy. In other rites, it becomes a challenge.
I often sing with the choir at my local Armenian Orthodox Church, where the liturgical language is ancient Armenian, and is little understood by many in the congregation. Yet it mostly works, especially as English parallel translations are provided in the books.
I had the great privilege of worshipping in the East Syriac rite on Sunday last, in Malyalam. The difference there is that this was the first language of probably 95% of the congregation, and they all sang with full voice. It was beautiful. My understanding is that the Malyali community in the UK very much uses Malyalam at home, so the children all speak the language as well as English.
My local Ukrainian Orthodox Church has switched from Church Slavonic to Ukrainian. While there was a substantial migration to this area in the 1950s (we have both a Ukrainian Orthodox and a Ukrainian Catholic parish), many of the second generation and very few of the third and fourth generations speak no Ukrainian at all. The result is a dwindling of the now aging congregation, which is difficult to watch, especially knowing that it was once a thriving parish that purchased its own building.
In modern Italian the imperative when speaking in the respectful form to someone is actually a third person subjunctive.
If you think about it 'imperative' means 'order' and you cannot really order a superior to do something, you can only suggest politely'
'God bless the Prince of Wales' has a verb in the 3rd person singular form of the subjunctive .It is a sort of polite form of an imperative.
That’s interesting. I’ve not read anything suggesting the same is true for Latin, but that could just be a lack of knowledge on my end.
Our church celebrated last Pentecost by getting groups or individuals to come up to the front and read the Lord’s Prayer in another language (any language with which they had some familiarity). Between us we managed English, Welsh, French, German, Spanish, Latin, Somali, and sign language, as far as I recall. (The Swahili speaker has unfortunately gone into residential care and the Japanese speaker overslept.)
It took a lot of organisation but was much appreciated, and provoked a surprising amount of discussion about the exact translation and implications of some words (it’s a very peculiar manoevure to convey “lead us not into temptation “ in sign language). It was particularly good to be able to include one participant with a rapidly progressing medical condition.
Sad indeed, but perhaps a 'natural' process, given the circumstances?
Oh, absolutely. It is regretful but it is a situation of their own making. It is a big step to depart from the traditional liturgical language, for which all of the resources are readily at hand. I might have thought that this step would be taken in order to adopt English, but no. Instead, they have moved towards a language that their children and their children's children, (and their children's children's children ) let alone the majority of the local population, do not know.
In the past, when, as a subdeacon, I used to visit and serve there occasionally, the priest used to do one litany in English for my benefit.
While I appreciated the gesture, it was unnecessary, (someone accustomed to Slavonic can follow the modern Ukrainian very easily, as the one is a development of the other). The effort to do all or parts of the Liturgy in English could have been better motivated, and really ought to have been executed about a decade earlier to save the parish. Now? I think that train has left the station.
The first time I went, an elderly lady came to speak to me and pointed out her husband cleaning out the wax from the votive stands. She explained that he had maintained the church for years. The last time I went, they had a cake and sang "happy birthday" for her 90th. Her husband was nowhere in evidence. I didn't dare ask.
In the near future, there will be a former Anglican building, which, a little over half a century ago, was purchased by a thriving Orthodox community, and renovated, and consecrated. And it will stand empty, or become a carpet shop, largely because of the lack of missionary zeal even to the minimal extent of using a language that people can understand.
While there are notable exceptions, in most places, especially outside of the urban centres, the days of the emigré chaplaincy model of Orthodox parish life are coming to an end, and those who do not realise it will see their parishes die.
As for the Ukrainian Catholic parish, things there are much worse. They also serve in Ukrainian, but they share a priest with a number of other churches, which means that there is very much a "drive-by" feel to the Divine Liturgy. There are none of the Hours or preparatory prayers before the Liturgy or prayers of thanksgiving afterwards. It is heavily abbreviated, with a number of hymns and litanies omitted, and not a whiff of incense to be detected. As soon as the hour-long Liturgy is over, the building is empty within 5 minutes as the priest drives off to his next church, and the congregation all head to the local Ukrainian club. They're very friendly people but this is no way to grow a parish.
In both cases, it is difficult to find anyone under the age of about 65.
Here in one of the capital cities of Australia, the three Orthodox congregations that have services entirely in English are all in scattered suburbs in rented premises with limited availability. Setting-up and taking-down all that is required for a service is a time-consuming weekly chore. Churches of other denominations that fall vacant are sold off for lucrative re-development unless they are in isolated rural locations.
We have a small Russian Church in Exile parish here. They have taken over the local cemetery chapel and done it out as an Orthodox church complete with screen and ikons (including one of the last Tsar.) They celebrate in English using traditional chants etc. But the congregation is tiny and mainly consists of refugees from the Anglican and Catholic churches. I was very surprised to learn that one of its members was a member of the Ukrainian Orthodox Church.
We have a small Russian Church in Exile parish here. They have taken over the local cemetery chapel and done it out as an Orthodox church complete with screen and ikons (including one of the last Tsar.) They celebrate in English using traditional chants etc. But the congregation is tiny and mainly consists of refugees from the Anglican and Catholic churches. I was very surprised to learn that one of its members was a member of the Ukrainian Orthodox Church.
The Reformed have several traditions with regards to worship, which has been something of a discovery for me since I moved to this side of the country. Most of the historic Reformed Church "roun cheer" would be at least semi-liturgical, one or two are fully liturgical, though some of the more conservative theologically congregations have a less structured worship style. One or two still have the occasional service in their language of origin - usually German, or Dutch - but that is mainly for historical reasons these days. One of my colleges seems to regard finding a copy of the Palatine Liturgy as the liturgical holy grail, but then he is in an ex-Evangelical and Reformed Church congregation, and is interested in their worship tradition before Mercersburg issued the Provisional Liturgy.
We have a small Russian Church in Exile parish here. They have taken over the local cemetery chapel and done it out as an Orthodox church complete with screen and ikons (including one of the last Tsar.) They celebrate in English using traditional chants etc. But the congregation is tiny and mainly consists of refugees from the Anglican and Catholic churches. I was very surprised to learn that one of its members was a member of the Ukrainian Orthodox Church.
That was my parish for ten years. I don't think ROCOR has been referred to as the Church in Exile since probably the 1950s, though.
The congregation averaged 25-40 on Sundays by the time I left in 2015, which I would say is about normal for many C of E parishes, by way of comparison. That said, because people travel some distance to get there and the time and costs involved, it wasn't necessarily the same 25-40 each Sunday. If everyone went each Sunday things would look very different.
Plenty of nationalities make up the congregation, with more than one Ukrainian family, as well as Russians, Serbs, Bulgarians, Romanians, Greeks, and a good proportion of Britons, some of the last of whom may be converts (rather than refugees) but it's worth noting that the parish has been going since 1993 and a number of the Brits are cradle Orthodox.
We have a small Russian Church in Exile parish here. They have taken over the local cemetery chapel and done it out as an Orthodox church complete with screen and ikons (including one of the last Tsar.) They celebrate in English using traditional chants etc. But the congregation is tiny and mainly consists of refugees from the Anglican and Catholic churches. I was very surprised to learn that one of its members was a member of the Ukrainian Orthodox Church.
The congregation averaged 25-40 on Sundays by the time I left in 2015, which I would say is about normal for many C of E parishes, by way of comparison. That said, because people travel some distance to get there and the time and costs involved, it wasn't necessarily the same 25-40 each Sunday. If everyone went each Sunday things would look very different.
You're not wrong - this applies to Our Place...though we don't have that many who travel more than a mile or two to get to us, most living in (or very near) the parish.
You're not wrong - this applies to Our Place...though we don't have that many who travel more than a mile or two to get to us, most living in (or very near) the parish.
It's a challenge, isn't it? Though we must be grateful for those who are there and pray for those who are not, it can sometimes be disheartening.
My current mission is 13 months old and we're still in the single figures. We're very much in the situation described above by @cgichard , in that we borrow the space that we use, and have to set everything up and take it all down each week. Our location has been a barrier to growth, and a number of our enthusiastic enquirers haven't materialised, citing the distance. Now that we've been able to secure use of a more accessible and central location starting next month, I've been in touch with a few of them again, so we'll see what happens. Despite the difficulties, we have gained two new regulars since we started - one couple had a baby and another gentleman came to join us.
Asked why he travels all the way to us rather than his local Orthodox church, the aforementioned gentleman cited language as the primary reason, with rite being the second. We serve in contemporary English and are Western Rite, so the chants and words have a certain familiarity for him.
A challenge, certainly, though perhaps not disheartening - inasmuch that overall our numbers are increasing. Frankly, with all the problems of 21stC urban life, I'm surprised - and indeed grateful - that we get any congregation at all.
Two of the several Good Things about a small congregation are that it's easy to spot a newcomer, and also easy to notice if someone's missing for a couple of weeks.
A challenge, certainly, though perhaps not disheartening - inasmuch that overall our numbers are increasing.
This is very encouraging to read.
Two of the several Good Things about a small congregation are that it's easy to spot a newcomer, and also easy to notice if someone's missing for a couple of weeks.
Both very true.
One problem that's introduced by the sort of sporadic attendance we have both experienced, which is perhaps more pronounced in larger congregations but is still a danger in smaller ones, is that it is easier for someone's departure to go unnoticed. This isn't because of any lack of interest in the person but rather because in some cases it can be perfectly normal to go a few weeks without seeing someone, and if they don't use social media, or if they live some distance away or for whatever reason don't take part in some of the extra-liturgical things people in the parish do together, there might not be the sort of regular connections outside of worship that would highlight their withdrawal.
Then, a couple of months later, it suddenly dawns on you that you haven't seen the person for a while.
At the moment, we're small enough that I'm in regular contact with everyone and some have formed links with each other outside of church, but it's something to bear in mind for if/when growth happens.
Also true, and we've experienced this in the past. People move into the parish, stay for a while, then move out again - and we don't always know why!
One recently-arrived chap did take the trouble to tell us that he, and his family, would soon have to move back to London, which they duly did. They are missed, but at least we know they're OK. Another is a serving soldier, and has told us that he and his wife will be moving on again in August.
The relevant choice would be between either chants in Latin or chants in English, or more difficult to arrange, a praise band in Latin or a praise band in English. Yes! I want a praise band in Latin! Now!
But I know what the Latin means, which for me is the difference between singing in Latin and Swahili. (And no, I wouldn't be able to follow a sermon preached in Latin.)
To a point, I could actually prefer praying in Latin - because I'm not fluent in Latin, it makes me think about the meaning of what I'm saying, rather than just chuntering through on autopilot. Sometimes when we recite the creed, I'm adding the Latin in my head to make me think about what we're saying.
Yes, I pray in Latin, for precisely that reason; the words are made more forceful by the fact that I have to work at them a little.
There's also something sacred, in the sense of 'set apart', about using a language you use for no other purpose. I'd hardly mandate it for anyone else. But I'm grateful to have and use that option.
The rite of house blessing, usually after a death in a room or house, is a key part of NZ Anglican practice. It's not quite exorcism, just a nudge in the name of Jesus for sorrows and greynesses to piss off. I always conduct the rite in te reo (the usual albeit truncated designation for Māori ... technically "te reo" means "the sound") so the said nasties which I assume are pre-European presences ... (er a few questions around that) ... get the meaning of the rite and take their leave.
Somewhere in that superstition that is mine alone there are snatches of serious theological reflection.
I would argue that this was a totally unsuitable service for scrutiny by a Mystery Worshipper, at least in the spirit set out in the OP. This was not their characteristic, "home" service, this was a visit by a neighbour, done in order to incorporate into the life of the cathedral something that was known to be beyond its usual boundaries.
This is why I don't see the point of the OP. If it was the cathedral's standard approach, I would agree that ther was a question to answer. Nor was this done for the edification of the one-off visitor. This was done as a response of the cathedral to the occasion of the Week of Prayer for Christian Union. This, to me, is hospitality in action: making real space in the cathedral's life for something that is from outside. There is no attempt to seal it off in a "this is special" bubble, and I'm sure that the congregation was given the tools to understand what was happening.
It's an annual service, as are Christmas carol services, Ash Wednesday and pet blessings. Do you think those too are unsuitable for scrutiny?
Something that hasn't been mentioned much - other than by Latin speakers - or those who have experimented with different languages in the same service - is what we might call the 'non-cognitive' elements at work in all of those
Baptist Trainfan, rather puritanically I think, wondered whether the use of Latin or other exotic languages might descend into 'mere aesthetics' - as if the aesthetic was something to minimise or avoid if at all possible. Now, I don't for a moment believe that he is calling for all aesthetic aspects to be removed ...
There do seem to instances where what we might call the incomprehensible can lead people towards faith ... rather than away from it.
I'm thinking of the artist and poet David Jones who began his journey into Roman Catholicism after he witnessed an impromptu Latin Mass on the Western Front in WW1.
Would it have had the same impact upon him had it been in English?
I've only heard Latin used sparingly in RC Masses and each time I experienced a 'frisson' - a sense of the numinous that to be frank, I don't often find in your bog-standard modern RC Masses.
I daresay that's what's going on in a similar way when charismatics and Pentecostals do the tongues bit. Whatever we think of the practice it can create a sense of the numinous, that there's something special and other-worldly happening.
Of course, in the case of David Jones and other catechumens there will have been a process of instruction and understanding that followed the initial 'frisson' or attraction.
Of course worship should be comprehensible and in a language 'understanded of the people' - but that doesn't mean there's no place for Latin or Church Slavonic or whatever else from time to time.
Certainly sung glossolalia (while I don't believe theologically speaking it has much to do with the gift of the Spirit Paul was writing about, but that's a Kerygmania, hermeneutical question, and as that's my day job I fear I stay out of there) can be a deeply numinous, mystical experience. Actually I haven't encountered it for forty years, but when I did I was quite moved - certainly no less so than I would be by a Durufle Agnus Dei or Darlene Szech singing an Auto-Erotic Love Long to Cheeses [*shudders*].
Well yes, and I don't think it has very much - if at all - to do with 1 Corinthians 12 through to 14 either. It is pretty easy to harmonise around a sustained note or drone. My late wife was musical and she could account for how it's 'done'.
The point is, like Latin or deep basso profundo Church Slavonic it can have a numinous effect.
I suspect David Jones was drawn to the Latin Mass in the trenches of WW1 by the raw incongruity of the situation - and he also felt there was something visceral there which went beyond his father's somewhat puritanical evangelicalism and the staid suburban Anglicanism he had encountered in his youth.
Some forms of non-conformist Protestantism come across as simply a lecture with prayers and hymns. At least in South Wales we used to get a bit of 'hwyl' with it.
How do churches create an 'affective' sense or atmosphere? They either do it with art, architecture or music or they do it with the spoken or sung word. The language of ritual tends to be a 'heightened' language and that applies whether it's in Greek, Latin or whatever else.
I'm not saying it has to be incomprehensible but 'it don't mean a thing if it ain't got that swing - a doopy doo whop a doopy doo whop a ...'
I think the importance of the affective or aesthetic might also have something to do with a lack of shared 'discourse', for want of a better word. If I started testifying to my startled friends and colleagues about Christianity, it wouldn't matter how down-to-earth my language was, they wouldn't get it. The problem wouldn't be my hifalutin vocabulary, it would be .... well, God and Christ and all the rest of it. I don't think there's any amount of apologetics on my part that would make them see.
Whereas if they accompanied me to a Messaien Mass or an archaic-language Evensong service, well ... then they might have some inkling.
I suspect David Jones was drawn to the Latin Mass in the trenches of WW1 by the raw incongruity of the situation - and he also felt there was something visceral there which went beyond his father's somewhat puritanical evangelicalism and the staid suburban Anglicanism he had encountered in his youth./quote]
I have heard plenty of stories (many from the person themselves who is perfectly sane and matter of fact about it) of that immediate, undeniable "urge to join" and "I have come home" experience of A Church Service. Metropolitan Kaillistos describes as a 17 year old schoolboy passing an umimpressive, blue door whose paint was flaking in London, opening it and going into an Orthodox church "never to look back". I have a friend who had the same experience in Cyprus, also Greek Orthodox. I recall vividly my own first High Anglican Experience and it's (literal) breath-takingness.
These things happen.
Our church celebrated last Pentecost by getting groups or individuals to come up to the front and read the Lord’s Prayer in another language (any language with which they had some familiarity). Between us we managed English, Welsh, French, German, Spanish, Latin, Somali, and sign language, as far as I recall. (The Swahili speaker has unfortunately gone into residential care and the Japanese speaker overslept.)
It took a lot of organisation but was much appreciated, and provoked a surprising amount of discussion about the exact translation and implications of some words (it’s a very peculiar manoevure to convey “lead us not into temptation “ in sign language). It was particularly good to be able to include one participant with a rapidly progressing medical condition.
Yep we've done the 9 lessons carol service like that. It's great. We always invite the Lord's Prayer to be prayed in any language in which you can say it
Yep we've done the 9 lessons carol service like that. It's great. We always invite the Lord's Prayer to be prayed in any language in which you can say it
Comments
Mr. Google provides me with this attempt that someone made of translating Mr. Kendrick's product: https://www.ssg.org.uk/phpBB3/viewtopic.php?t=980
I'm not much of a fan of this attempt - I think I share the opinion of those who would use a jussive subjunctive rather than an imperative for shine, and I don't think fulgere has quite the right sense - lucere is better.
But surely it's second person rather than third, so Luceas, Iesu, luceas.
I definitely see the Shine in SJS as an imperative. If it were "May Jesus Shine" then yes, but that's not the meaning I take from it.
Why the Second Person of the Trinity needs encouragement I know not, but that's what I see there. It's full of imperatives; fill, blaze, flow. I get the background hopeful sense but grammatically it just looks like an imperative to me. It's formally no different to run, rabbit, run!
Domine, nituit lux amori:
Nituit inter umbrae medii:
Jesu, inter nos inflamma, lux terrae,
Libera nos veritate affere
Nite in me! Nite in me!
Nite Jesu!
Terram reple cum gloria patri
Spirite exure
Animas inflamma!
Flumen emani
Populus unde cum gloriam tuam
Verbum clamat fiatque lux!
Then there are a lot of people who attend worship outside of the language they use at home. Which must be quite a large number across the globe.
Some even appear to choose an option in another language other than their first language.
In fact one might even say that English first-language speakers are particularly unusual in having (usually) such a wide variety of services and groups to attend in the vernacular, which might explain (stating the obvious) why it seems odd to an English-speaker to choose non-English worship.
If memory serves even for Arabic-speaking Muslims the distance between classical and modern Arabic (aside from the fact that modern Arabic has wildly divergent dialects) is pretty big, on a par with Middle or even Old English to modern English.
And there Orthodox churches in the diaspora who preserve their liturgical language for cultural reasons. Sometimes long after there are native speakers in the congregation.
And it's been a long time since anyone spoke Church Slavonic. A russophone friend tells me that it's not too terribly off the Shakespearian/contemporary English parallel; he says that one of the challenges and attractions of Solzhenitsyn's writing was the frequent use of liturgicalish archaisms. Several of my Coptic friends no longer understand the liturgical language, and its Arabic replacement is like Greek to their children, so services are gradually getting francized and anglicized, while keeping enough Arabic for the older people, and enough liturgical Coptic for the really grumpy older people. It makes for longer services.
In minority language communities, funerals are always where the old language features. Clerical friends tell me that they must pay attention both to those for whom the familiar language is important at an emotional time-- even the most secular Russians know the Pamyat hymn from funerals-- shipmates might recall the opening minutes of Dr Zhivago-- , but also to speak to the children and grandchildren, who often have no more than kitchen Serb/Arabic/whatever, and are rarely worshippers.
As a general rule worship should be in the language used by worshippers, but the world is not always neat and tidy. Somewhere in the MW archives is my review of the Anglican cathedral in Buenos Aires, where they handled using both Spanish and English in the service and did so very smoothly, with interpretation of the sermon. Even at Saint Onophorio's in Ottawa, I know that several of the congregants are francophone but manage in English. In my travels, I've often been at services in French and Spanish, but even in Euzkadi I could follow the service by its structure and rhythm.
At periods when I've been working on my French or Spanish, I would follow the English service using a French or Spanish text, as I found that each language provided a different lens to the meaning of the text. Sometimes this works with Latin, but mine is too rusty for words. Latin is so rarely taught in schools these days (I think only 4 public schools in Ottawa) that an English translation should be provided for those who want to go above the music.
Generally, cathedral services, as mentioned above, are a few levels above most parish services, and can follow their own approach to the rules without danger.
I think SJS has been translated into Māori but I haven't seen it. I don't think Māori has a future perfect subjunctive. Or something (actually I think it would add verbal qualifiers, as English does, but that's a whole other can of worms).
Of course when one is speaking in another language one does make howlers. After one evangelistic sermon I was informed that I'd told my listeners that "all sinners are sinners"; after one closing prayer in a youth meeting I discovered that I'd asked God "to be with us all until we get married"; while my wife informed a women's group that Jesus, rather than being hungry, "had a fat wife".
(About Jesus' marital status, that is, and presumably God was with him even after the Deed was Done...).
I'll see myself out.
And there was I, feeling a Subversive Sermon coming on...
Surely it can be grammatically imperative while being functionally an invitation rather than a command.
In the same way as you might say, 'Come in! Take a seat!' to a welcome and long-awaited visitor.
If you think about it 'imperative' means 'order' and you cannot really order a superior to do something, you can only suggest politely'
'God bless the Prince of Wales' has a verb in the 3rd person singular form of the subjunctive .It is a sort of polite form of an imperative.
It's interesting. The Gallican, Roman, and Byzantine rites I'm particularly familiar with, so can worship in any language in those rites and still feel at home, as I know the prayers and the hymns that constitute the Liturgy. In other rites, it becomes a challenge.
I often sing with the choir at my local Armenian Orthodox Church, where the liturgical language is ancient Armenian, and is little understood by many in the congregation. Yet it mostly works, especially as English parallel translations are provided in the books.
I had the great privilege of worshipping in the East Syriac rite on Sunday last, in Malyalam. The difference there is that this was the first language of probably 95% of the congregation, and they all sang with full voice. It was beautiful. My understanding is that the Malyali community in the UK very much uses Malyalam at home, so the children all speak the language as well as English.
My local Ukrainian Orthodox Church has switched from Church Slavonic to Ukrainian. While there was a substantial migration to this area in the 1950s (we have both a Ukrainian Orthodox and a Ukrainian Catholic parish), many of the second generation and very few of the third and fourth generations speak no Ukrainian at all. The result is a dwindling of the now aging congregation, which is difficult to watch, especially knowing that it was once a thriving parish that purchased its own building.
How wonderful to think, though, that Our Lord, and His Blessed Mother, understand all these varied languages, no matter what...
That’s interesting. I’ve not read anything suggesting the same is true for Latin, but that could just be a lack of knowledge on my end.
It took a lot of organisation but was much appreciated, and provoked a surprising amount of discussion about the exact translation and implications of some words (it’s a very peculiar manoevure to convey “lead us not into temptation “ in sign language). It was particularly good to be able to include one participant with a rapidly progressing medical condition.
Oh, absolutely. It is regretful but it is a situation of their own making. It is a big step to depart from the traditional liturgical language, for which all of the resources are readily at hand. I might have thought that this step would be taken in order to adopt English, but no. Instead, they have moved towards a language that their children and their children's children, (and their children's children's children
In the past, when, as a subdeacon, I used to visit and serve there occasionally, the priest used to do one litany in English for my benefit.
While I appreciated the gesture, it was unnecessary, (someone accustomed to Slavonic can follow the modern Ukrainian very easily, as the one is a development of the other). The effort to do all or parts of the Liturgy in English could have been better motivated, and really ought to have been executed about a decade earlier to save the parish. Now? I think that train has left the station.
The first time I went, an elderly lady came to speak to me and pointed out her husband cleaning out the wax from the votive stands. She explained that he had maintained the church for years. The last time I went, they had a cake and sang "happy birthday" for her 90th. Her husband was nowhere in evidence. I didn't dare ask.
In the near future, there will be a former Anglican building, which, a little over half a century ago, was purchased by a thriving Orthodox community, and renovated, and consecrated. And it will stand empty, or become a carpet shop, largely because of the lack of missionary zeal even to the minimal extent of using a language that people can understand.
While there are notable exceptions, in most places, especially outside of the urban centres, the days of the emigré chaplaincy model of Orthodox parish life are coming to an end, and those who do not realise it will see their parishes die.
As for the Ukrainian Catholic parish, things there are much worse. They also serve in Ukrainian, but they share a priest with a number of other churches, which means that there is very much a "drive-by" feel to the Divine Liturgy. There are none of the Hours or preparatory prayers before the Liturgy or prayers of thanksgiving afterwards. It is heavily abbreviated, with a number of hymns and litanies omitted, and not a whiff of incense to be detected. As soon as the hour-long Liturgy is over, the building is empty within 5 minutes as the priest drives off to his next church, and the congregation all head to the local Ukrainian club. They're very friendly people but this is no way to grow a parish.
In both cases, it is difficult to find anyone under the age of about 65.
<votive> for the congregations concerned.
An unlooked-for side effect of the world becoming smaller, IYSWIM?
Too late to edit, but here is the website of that parish
https://newmartyr.info/
That was my parish for ten years. I don't think ROCOR has been referred to as the Church in Exile since probably the 1950s, though.
The congregation averaged 25-40 on Sundays by the time I left in 2015, which I would say is about normal for many C of E parishes, by way of comparison. That said, because people travel some distance to get there and the time and costs involved, it wasn't necessarily the same 25-40 each Sunday. If everyone went each Sunday things would look very different.
Plenty of nationalities make up the congregation, with more than one Ukrainian family, as well as Russians, Serbs, Bulgarians, Romanians, Greeks, and a good proportion of Britons, some of the last of whom may be converts (rather than refugees) but it's worth noting that the parish has been going since 1993 and a number of the Brits are cradle Orthodox.
You're not wrong - this applies to Our Place...though we don't have that many who travel more than a mile or two to get to us, most living in (or very near) the parish.
It's a challenge, isn't it? Though we must be grateful for those who are there and pray for those who are not, it can sometimes be disheartening.
My current mission is 13 months old and we're still in the single figures. We're very much in the situation described above by @cgichard , in that we borrow the space that we use, and have to set everything up and take it all down each week. Our location has been a barrier to growth, and a number of our enthusiastic enquirers haven't materialised, citing the distance. Now that we've been able to secure use of a more accessible and central location starting next month, I've been in touch with a few of them again, so we'll see what happens. Despite the difficulties, we have gained two new regulars since we started - one couple had a baby and another gentleman came to join us.
Asked why he travels all the way to us rather than his local Orthodox church, the aforementioned gentleman cited language as the primary reason, with rite being the second. We serve in contemporary English and are Western Rite, so the chants and words have a certain familiarity for him.
Two of the several Good Things about a small congregation are that it's easy to spot a newcomer, and also easy to notice if someone's missing for a couple of weeks.
This is very encouraging to read.
Both very true.
One problem that's introduced by the sort of sporadic attendance we have both experienced, which is perhaps more pronounced in larger congregations but is still a danger in smaller ones, is that it is easier for someone's departure to go unnoticed. This isn't because of any lack of interest in the person but rather because in some cases it can be perfectly normal to go a few weeks without seeing someone, and if they don't use social media, or if they live some distance away or for whatever reason don't take part in some of the extra-liturgical things people in the parish do together, there might not be the sort of regular connections outside of worship that would highlight their withdrawal.
Then, a couple of months later, it suddenly dawns on you that you haven't seen the person for a while.
At the moment, we're small enough that I'm in regular contact with everyone and some have formed links with each other outside of church, but it's something to bear in mind for if/when growth happens.
One recently-arrived chap did take the trouble to tell us that he, and his family, would soon have to move back to London, which they duly did. They are missed, but at least we know they're OK. Another is a serving soldier, and has told us that he and his wife will be moving on again in August.
Yes, I pray in Latin, for precisely that reason; the words are made more forceful by the fact that I have to work at them a little.
There's also something sacred, in the sense of 'set apart', about using a language you use for no other purpose. I'd hardly mandate it for anyone else. But I'm grateful to have and use that option.
Somewhere in that superstition that is mine alone there are snatches of serious theological reflection.
It's an annual service, as are Christmas carol services, Ash Wednesday and pet blessings. Do you think those too are unsuitable for scrutiny?
Something that hasn't been mentioned much - other than by Latin speakers - or those who have experimented with different languages in the same service - is what we might call the 'non-cognitive' elements at work in all of those
Baptist Trainfan, rather puritanically I think, wondered whether the use of Latin or other exotic languages might descend into 'mere aesthetics' - as if the aesthetic was something to minimise or avoid if at all possible. Now, I don't for a moment believe that he is calling for all aesthetic aspects to be removed ...
There do seem to instances where what we might call the incomprehensible can lead people towards faith ... rather than away from it.
I'm thinking of the artist and poet David Jones who began his journey into Roman Catholicism after he witnessed an impromptu Latin Mass on the Western Front in WW1.
Would it have had the same impact upon him had it been in English?
I've only heard Latin used sparingly in RC Masses and each time I experienced a 'frisson' - a sense of the numinous that to be frank, I don't often find in your bog-standard modern RC Masses.
I daresay that's what's going on in a similar way when charismatics and Pentecostals do the tongues bit. Whatever we think of the practice it can create a sense of the numinous, that there's something special and other-worldly happening.
Of course, in the case of David Jones and other catechumens there will have been a process of instruction and understanding that followed the initial 'frisson' or attraction.
Of course worship should be comprehensible and in a language 'understanded of the people' - but that doesn't mean there's no place for Latin or Church Slavonic or whatever else from time to time.
The point is, like Latin or deep basso profundo Church Slavonic it can have a numinous effect.
I suspect David Jones was drawn to the Latin Mass in the trenches of WW1 by the raw incongruity of the situation - and he also felt there was something visceral there which went beyond his father's somewhat puritanical evangelicalism and the staid suburban Anglicanism he had encountered in his youth.
Some forms of non-conformist Protestantism come across as simply a lecture with prayers and hymns. At least in South Wales we used to get a bit of 'hwyl' with it.
How do churches create an 'affective' sense or atmosphere? They either do it with art, architecture or music or they do it with the spoken or sung word. The language of ritual tends to be a 'heightened' language and that applies whether it's in Greek, Latin or whatever else.
I'm not saying it has to be incomprehensible but 'it don't mean a thing if it ain't got that swing - a doopy doo whop a doopy doo whop a ...'
Whereas if they accompanied me to a Messaien Mass or an archaic-language Evensong service, well ... then they might have some inkling.
Yep we've done the 9 lessons carol service like that. It's great. We always invite the Lord's Prayer to be prayed in any language in which you can say it
Oh yeah, that's a wonderful feeling (and sound!)