Daily Archives: September 4, 2011
This morning at Mass the celebrant briefly preceded the homily with a short description of what is happening with the introduction of the new translation. As we were by the strange Mass that the Oratorians call “Sung Latin, Ordinary Form” – and which is, in fact, its first version, very similar to a Tridentine Mass, with only a few modifications for example with the introduction of the bidding prayers – it was duly pointed out that in this mass there would be only one modification: at the beginning of the bidding prayers, the answer to “The Lord be with you” would be “and with your spirit” rather than “and also with you”.
After which, Father Harrison simply invited to make a dry run, and after he said “the Lord be with you” all the congregation answered “and with your spirit”, in an atmosphere of tangible merriment.
You see? It wasn’t difficult. Some words are substituted with others. People are told which words are substituted for which. They say the new words. That’s that.
I so wish all those liberal whinos treating us all like lobotomised morons to have been present in order to witness this miraculous feat of instant learning. You will be pleased to know that, to my knowledge, no old pew sitter suffered any noticeable distress at hearing the words, and I even dare to predict that all of them will cope all right and survive the shock.
Furthermore, I also venture to suggest that most of those liberal thickos who have difficulties in learning new words are, at least, able to read. Well, this should go a long way towards solving the problem, as the simple reading of the text and the saying of what one finds written week after week should, in time, allow even the most intellectually challenged Birkenstock-wearing liberal moron to cope with the new words.
There were old words. Now there will be new ones. In a couple of months people will struggle to remember what the old expressions were. It’s really as banal as that. Please stop harassing us with the myth of the old man unable to learn a couple of words, or traumatised at having to say “and with your spirit”.
Another excellent blog post from the “man with no uncertain trumpet”, Monsignor Pope of the Archdiocese of Washington.
This time, Monsignor Pope’s attention is focused on the image of Jesus that was smuggled around in the Seventies, and that still influences the Sixty-Eighters and other pot-smokers today. In those years – and whilst I was a child, I got my share of those years – Jesus was generally portrayed as a kind of a whimp, a girly boy unable to exert or project any form of manliness, a mixture of hare “krishna” follower and Gandhi with, later, the addition of a dollop of Nelson Mandela. Victimised, but as meek as a sheep; bullied, but always answering with a smile, and unable to threat or harm, this is the Jesus we had brought to us as an example. “Peeaace” and “luuuuv” were everywhere, and not a whip in sight.
Well, one only needs to read the Gospel to get a completely different picture of Jesus; a man who never said things half, and never minced words; a man able to openly defy his opponents in public, in times when conflicts were carried out rather less nicely than today, and “being hurt” had a different meaning than today; a man whose followers went around armed with swords, certainly not for aesthetic reasons; a man able to free himself from the grasp of multitudes desirous to apprehend him, which can’t have been accomplished without a towering presence and an extremely commanding, charismatic, utterly manly attitude; a man able, alone, to throw away from the temple an undefined, but certainly not little number of moneychangers out of the sheer fury of his action, and the might of his whip. On this occasion, the contrast between the calm preparation of the whip and the explosion of irresistible physical power gives a wonderful example of the manliness of Jesus’ behaviour.
No, this was no pink-shirted, manicured, anti-wrinkle-lotioned, tubular-jeans-wearing metrosexual; this was a real man, oozing masculinity in everything he did. Try to imagine the scene of St. Matthew’s conversion and tell me whether it is compatible with anything else than the most commanding authority. Then try to imagine how Gandhi or Deepak Chopra would have tried to achieve the same result, and you’ll know the difference.
You see this everywhere in the Gospels, as the words and gestures of Jesus are always accompanied by an undercurrent of sheer authority, a commanding stance, the attitude of one who knows that he will be obeyed everytime he wants. Even scourged almost to death, Jesus talks to Pilate from a position of utter power, and leaves him in no doubt as to who is boss. Make no mistake, this is no Gandhi.
Thankfully, the gently whispering Jesus of my younger years is now slowly being substituted for an image more attuned to the Gospel image, largely – I think – because of the excellent “passion of the Christ” and James Caviezel’s very manly rendition of the Lord. It will take time, though, before the Birkenstock-sandalled, tofu-eating, Cosmo-reading and Oprah-watching Jesus is replaced by, well….. Jesus.