Latin-Speaking Guy Or Gal Needed!

I’m seeking someone who speaks Latin well to help me out on something.

As part of an effort to be of service to the broader Catholic community, I’m trying to translate a number of documents that generally aren’t available in English and that aren’t likely to receive an official translation.

What I need, though, is someone to look over my shoulder and nitpick what I’m doing, because I want the translations to be as good as possible.

This AIN’T a secret project, though, so I can tell you exactly what I’m doing:

At the moment, I’ve got a translation I did of the old Rite of Excommunication and Absolution, by which a bishop would impose and rescind the sentence of anathema on a person.

It seemed to me that translating the rite would provide a tangible demonstration that a lot of what you hear about the meaning of anathemas is simply wrong. They aren’t sentences to hell. They aren’t things that take effect automatically. They were a special kind of excommunication that had to be applied with a special ceremony by the bishop and that were meant to prompt repentence (so they were lifted when the person repented). As a result, they almost never were applied to Protestants since Protestants made no pretense of being part of the Catholic community. When Trent said things like, "If anyone says X, let him be anathema" that meant basically "If anyone claiming to be Catholic says X then let him be ceremonially excommunicated" not "We hereby damn all Protestants to hell."

So it seems to me that this document would be a useful thing to have in English but, because it’s no longer used as the penalty of anathema has been abolished in canon law (Surprise! Anathemas also no longer exist!) it’s not likely to get officially translated by anybody.

So I did it.

It’s about 1400 words long in Latin and a similar (slightly longer) number of words in English. I’ve got it in a Word-readable document with the Latin and English in facing columns, lined up so that it’s easy to read one paragraph in Latin and then the same thing in English.

If you have significant Latin skills and would be willing to nitpick the translation for me, I’d really appreciate it!

Also, this is a one-time deal without a long-term commitment. I won’t come bugging you to nitpick future documents I translate.

Thanks much, and lemme know by combox or e-mail if you’d be willing to help!

Greek New Testament . . . No Imprimatur

A reader writes:

I’ve been reading your blog occasionally and have noticed that you seem to be knowledgeable in a variety of areas (not just in apologetics),

Naw, I’m just curious about . . . y’know . . . stuff.

so I thought I’d ask you a question I’ve been having trouble getting answered elsewhere.

Okay, shoot!

I’m thinking of studying Greek in order to read the New Testament in its original language.

Good for you! I recommend William Mounce’s Basics of Biblical Greek as a starting point.

However, so far as I know, there are no editions of the Greek New Testament currently available that have ecclesiastical approval.

Yeah, I don’t know of any, either.

What are the Church’s regulations for reading/studying non-approved editions of Holy Scripture? Canon 825, §1 seems to indicate that it’s not permitted, but I’m not sure.

Ah, actually the canon you cite does not prohibit reading or studying such Scriptures. Here’s the canon in question:

Can. 825 §1. Books of the sacred scriptures cannot be published unless the Apostolic See or the conference of bishops has approved them. For the publication of their translations into the vernacular, it is also required that they be approved by the same authority and provided with necessary and sufficient annotations.

§2. With the permission of the conference of bishops, Catholic members of the Christian faithful in collaboration with separated brothers and sisters can prepare and publish translations of the sacred scriptures provided with appropriate annotations.

As you can see, the canon places the legal burden on the publisher of a book of sacred scripture. It is the publisher of the volume, not the reader, who has the responsibility to make sure that the needed approval is gathered (assuming it’s a Catholic publisher to begin with; Catholics are not bound by canon law).

For a reader, there is no prohibition on reading material that has not been granted ecclesiastical approval. There is a general moral requirement that one not read material that would be damaging to one’s faith or morals, but I am unware of any editions of the Greek New Testament that would do that. Not even the Jehovah’s Witnesses, as far as I know, have had the chutzpah to alter the original Greek text (though they have laced it up with erroneous glosses).

There really isn’t that much difference between different editions of the Greek New Testament, and what differences there are tend not to cut across confessional lines. It’s not like there’s a "Catholic Greek New Testament" versus a "Protestant Greek New Testament." The differences concern mostly minor manuscript variations that are neither Catholic nor Protestant.

For this reason, Catholic scholars tend to use the same editions of the Greek New Testament as Protestant scholars, notably the Nestle-Aland/United Bible Societies text, which is considered one of the better critical editions, though the differences between this and other editions are very small and would not be of concern to a person just learning the language.

The absence of confessional differences in the text of the Greek New Testament is one of the reasons that it’s hard to find an edition that has been given ecclesiastical approval. There may be some, and I did some poking around online looking, but I haven’t found any.

My advice would be to use any edition of the Greek New Testament that comes to hand. As a tool for learning the language, that’s all you really need.

And, as I said, I’d use Mounce if possible as an intro text.

Good luck!

Sen. Reid’s “Racism”

Harry_reidAccording to the Washington Times:

Senate Minority Leader Harry Reid called a proposal to make English the official language "racist" on the Senate floor [Thursday].

"This amendment is racist. I think it’s directed basically to people who speak Spanish," the Democrat said during the already tense debate over immigration reform.

Moments later, the Senate approved the measure on a 63-34 vote. Virtually all Republicans were joined by 11 Democrats to approve the largely symbolic amendment. Immediately following that vote, the Senate approved a second amendment, declaring on a 58-39 vote that English is the "common and unifying language."

It comes as little surprise that as the Senate head of a party specializing in identity politics, Senator Reid would attempt to play the race card to get his way in Congress, but isn’t this particular card getting rather worn?

There was a time–in the wake of the Civil Rights Movement and the numerous injustices that it served to correct–that the accusation of racism was a potent thing, and playing the race card could be a powerful instrument for altering the state of a discussion.

But the race card has been played so often–and so inaccurately–that it’s getting rather worn and easy to spot as part of a political bluff (to keep with the card playing metaphor for a moment).

False accusations of racism have been made so frequently (as, for example, by Congresswoman Cynthia McKinney) that the potency of the racism charge is diluting. People no longer reflexivly assume that when the charge is made that it must be based on truth because those making the allegation have so over-used it that the situation has begun to resemble "The Boy Who Cried ‘Wolf!’"

Particularly noteworthy is Sen. Reid’s accusation that a move to declare English the official language of the nation to be "racist" on the grounds that it is "directed basically to people who speak Spanish."

For a speaker of contemporary, 21st century English, this may leave one scratching one’s head: "What does race have to do with language? They’re completely separate. People of any race can speak any language that they choose to learn. This charge makes no sense."

It would have made a little more sense in the 18th century, when the term "race" still had more of its original meaning, which was to refer to a family, tribe, culture, or nation, such that one could speak of "the English race" or "the French race" or "the German race" or "the Spanish [meaning: ‘from Spain’] race," but that usage has been virtually lost from contemporary English.

As a result of the history of racism in the English-speaking world, the term "race" has changed to refer in normal speech to particular genetic backgrounds associated principally with skin color.

Given that change in meaning, language simply has nothing to do with race because people of every genetic background have the same basic language genes and can speak any language they choose to learn. Saying, "In this country the official language is English (or Spanish or Mandarin or Swahili or Arabic or Hebrew or Russian or what have you)" has nothing to do with a person’s genes and thus has nothing to do with race. 

People of every race can speak every language, as illustrated by the fact that there are already millions of Americans of every race who are native English speakers.

Now, you’ll note something interesting about the 18th century use of the word "race": in examples like "the English race," "the French race," "the German race," and so on the distinguishing terms ("English," "French," "German") are also the names of languages.

There’s a very good reason for that: Language is one of the most fundamental aspects of culture–arguably the most fundamental aspect of culture–and so people who are members of a common nation and its culture tend to share a common language.

It is not easy to maintain a nation that does not share a common language. If you don’t believe that, look at Canada.

If people don’t share a common language then from an important perspective they simply aren’t part of the same culture because they can’t talk to each other and thus can’t participate to any significant degree in common cultural life.

Nations that don’t have a common language thus fail to have a common culture. What they have instead are different, sharply-defined cultures within them which are separated by linguistic barriers. This leads to friction between the language communities and to identity politics.

Sen. Reid’s refusal to endorse the idea of English as the common language in America thus would have the tendency to foster more identity politics and more friction between groups in American society.

Whether you want to call that "racism" or not, it’s something that we don’t need.

Language Questions

A reader writes:

A few quick questions:

1)  Is the only difference between classical latin and ecclesiastical latin the pronunciation?

No. Ecclesiastical Latin also has vocabulary that classical Latin doesn’t (esp. biblical and theological terms). The grammar and syntax are also a little different. For example, ecclesiastical Latin has a tendency to use prepositions where classical Latin would rely on cases alone. This makes ecclesiastical Latin easier for English-speakers since we are used to using prepositions rather than cases.

2)  I know there are at least three different versions of the Vulgate floating around currently . . . is there a particular version/edition you recommend? I checked out a version of the Vatican’s edition of the ‘Nova Vulgata’ and it has absolutely no footnotes, introductions, etc., so I’m looking for something a bit different . . .

I’m afraid that I don’t have a special recommendation, here. I tend to use the Neo-Vulgate because it’s available for free, in electronic form, on the Vatican’s web site. (HERE.) I’ve seen a nice edition of the Vulgate NT with the Greek NT on the facing page, but with my preference for electronic formats (makes it easier when I’m writing), I haven’t bothered getting one. (And, unfortunately, I don’t have the name of it, though Googling should turn it up.)

3)  Similar question for the Septuagint . . . what edition should I pick up?

Same kind of answer as before. I don’t really have a recommendation. Almost any edition of the Septuagint will suffice for most purposes. Unless you’re doing someting of a scholarly nature, it really doesn’t matter which edition of the Vulgate or the Septuagint you use. Neither are original-language versions of the Bible, and if you’re just wanting them for language study or personal Bible study or for writing non-academic articles then any edition will work well.

Readers are welcome to share their favorite editions in the combox, though.

Amabo Te

Down yonder some folks were asking about a Latin equivalent for "please" and someone wrote:

Doesn’t Latin have "amabo te"? That’s what I learned, anyhow…

Another person then wrote:

This subject was discussed before on JA.O, and I also asked about "amabo te." I think Jimmy said it wasn’t really used that much.

I don’t recall saying that "amabo te" isn’t used much, though that’s certainly true in prayers. One reason why may be that–I am given to understand–"amabo te" is considered distinctive of women’s speech, but most prayers in Church historically have been lead by and composed for men.

The fundamental thing, though, is that "amabo te" is not a particle, the way "please" is. "Amabo te" is an idiomatic phrase used to express entreaty, but not a particle of entreaty. Literally, "amabo te" means "I will love you."

Every language has ways of expressing entreaty, but in some languages (like English) we have a particle we do it with and in other languages (like Latin) they have a phrase (or other devices) they do it with.

Also, I don’t know that it’s a very Christian sentiment to use "amabo te" in prayers.

I for one would feel *even less polite* saying to God "I will love you if you do this for me" or "Do this for me and I will love you."

I want to love God whether he does it for me or not.

To a native Latin speaker "amabo te" might possibly have lost its literal resonance (the way "roll out the red carpet" has lost its literal resonance for most native English speakers), but I’m not a native Latin speaker, and putting "amabo te" in prayers I say in Latin would totally call attention to its literal meaning in my mind.

Translating it literally into English prayers would be even worse.

Lost In Translation

Ilovelucy_1

Michelle here.

Last week my brother-in-law found some time to install the DVD player he and my sister gave me last Christmas — which goes to show you that I’m no techno-geek, since it had to sit on my couch for nearly a year. Delighted to finally have DVD capability, I went out and bought three seasons worth of I Love Lucy (Seasons One, Four, and Five), my all-time favorite TV show.

When I put in Season One for my own personal I Love Lucy marathon, I was frustrated to find that most of the episodes were subtitled in Spanish. I was even more frustrated that Ricky Ricardo’s famous Spanish rages were not translated into English, but that’s another story. Since I couldn’t figure out how to turn off the subtitles, I assumed that they were standard to the set and decided to tolerate them.

Once I did, I started to notice something interesting.

I am not especially well-versed in Spanish, having only taken three years in high school and nothing since, but I can read a bit of it unassisted and recognize some more if put side-by-side with English. What I found fascinating during my viewing of I Love Lucy was seeing how English was translated into Spanish. Being fluent in English (I hope) and knowing enough Spanish to recognize translations, I found that a lot was lost in translation.

Some examples:

  • English colloquialisms apparently did not have exact translations. When the English-speaker would say "Easy!" while moving something, the translation into Spanish would be "Careful!" or "With caution." The meaning of the colloquialism was captured, but not a translation.
  • A whole range of English versions of "okay" would have one Spanish translation: "Bien."
  • The subtleties of language, which were sometimes used to humorous effect, were lost. Comical alliterations like "tubby trio" and "flabby foursome" could not be recaptured once they were translated.

All of this made up for the annoyance of subtitles that were not needed. Eventually, after fiddling around with the DVD remote, I finally figured out how to turn off the subtitles. But the translational game was so much fun I may turn them on again in the future to see if I can catch more translational glitches.

Kecharitomene Questions

A reader writes:

I was watching EWTN earlier and it was mentioned that only two people in the New Testament are referred to as “full of grace” – Jesus (John 1:14) and Mary (Luke 1:28). Of course I thought this would be a really neat thing to mention to my Protestant friends (especially if we’re talking about Jesus and Mary being the New Adam and New Eve).

BUT I wanted to go beyond the English and examine the original Greek – but I don’t know a lot about Greek! So I have two twofold questions:

(1) does John 1:14 use kecharitomene as fully (pardon the pun) as Luke’s usage in 1:28 or does John 1:14 follow more closely to Acts 6:8 when Stephen is referred to as “full of grace and power”?

John 1:14 says that Jesus was plErEs charitos, which literally means "full of grace." (Those capital Es arepresent etas, so pronounce them like the e in "they"; the word is thus pronounced PLAY-RACE).

Luke 1:28 uses kecharitomene, which literally means "one who has been graced" or "woman who has been graced" (since the gender is female). It doesn’t literally mean "full of grace," though that is defensible as a free translation.

Acts 6:8 refers to Stephen as plErEs charitos, so again it’s literally "full of grace" and just the same as the description used of Jesus in John 1:14.

If it is the latter, (2) does that mean there really isn’t a literal “full of grace” parallel between Luke 1:28 and John 1:14 or can I find that literal parallel somewhere else in the New Testament?

Not that I’m aware of, and I’d almost certainly be aware of it if there were.

I’m afraid that in establishing Jesus and Mary as the New Adam and Eve, you’ll need to appeal to other considerations. You might try those mentioned HERE and HERE.

 

Attic Vs. Koine

A reader writes:

A local language academy is offering an Ancient Greek class in another week and I signed up for it, excited at the idea of being able to read the NT and Septuagint in their original language. But then I got the textbook that will be used and it’s called "Introduction to Attic Greek". I know that there are different dialects in different languages. If I learn Attic Greek rather than Koine, will it essentially be the same thing, or am I going to have troubles?

As noted, the class starts in another week, so I’m hoping you can get back to me soon. Thank you so much for your help.

I haven’t studied Attic Greek in any depth (at least not yet), so others on the blog may be able to be of more help to you than I.

I can tell you that Koine is an outgrowth of Attic, so the two have much in common. Also, Koine is a generally simplified form, so if you can hack it in Attic, that gives you a big leg up on Koine.

From what exposure I’ve had to Attic texts (e.g., Plato’s dialogues), I found that my knowledge of Koine was a big help, and I’m sure that the reverse would be true as well.

The differences between Attic and Koine are much smaller than the differences between either of them and Modern Greek, for example.

Learning Attic would give you a big leg up on reading the New Testament and the Septuagint (which are not identical in language, themselves), though not as much as if you took a course specifically in Koine.

On the other hand, if this is the best Greek instruction available in your area, you might be better advised to take it while your motivation is up rather than wait for an ideal course that you may never find or get around to.

Learning something that’s not quite what you want beats not learning what you want at all.

For what it’s worth, I know that some students of Attic do readings in Koine. A number of years ago I was invited to give a couple of lectures on Paul and Colossians to a (secular) college class in Attic that had been translating Colossians as one of their exercises. They were a couple of years into the program and the professor (who was Jewish) thought they would benefit from trying their hand at a short Koine text. From what I could tell, they didn’t seem to have trouble with it.

Perhaps those who have had a chance to study both dialects can offer comment.

Bad Mood

They had a visting priest at Mass this weekend, and he preached a really good homily (for the most part). His celebration of the liturgy of the Eucharist was also generally good, but he had a few quirks in how he said thing.

Most notably, he used the wrong mood when in greeting the congregation.

When the priest does this, he is supposed to say "The Lord be with you."

This gentleman, unfortunately, said "The Lord is with you."

He may not know enough grammar to understand the shift in meaning and simply thought that the latter is a more contemporary, vivid way of saying the same thing as the former.

It’s not.

The "be" in "The Lord be with you" is an example of the subjunctive mood, while the "is" in "The Lord is with you" is the indicative mood, and there is a marked difference in meaning between the two moods.

In English (and in many other languages) the indicative mood is used to make statements about the way world is. In other words, to state facts. (It also is used to ask questions about the way the world is, but the above isn’t a question.)

The subjunctive mood, however, is more tentative than the indicative. It doesn’t claim to state the way the world is, but the way it might be. Thus it gets used in hypothetical clauses ("If I were a rich man . . . "). It also is used to expres wishes. That’s what it’s doing in "The Lord be with you." The priest is expressing a wish that God be with the people, not stating for a fact that he is.

English has been losing it’s subjunctive mood and its functions have begun to be taken over by auxiliary verbs like "may," "let," and "should." Sometimes an auxiliary appears in the same sentence as a subjunctive verb, calling attention to it. Thus "May the Lord be with you" conveys the same meaning as "The Lord be with you."

Unfortunately, as the subjunctive has weakened in English, many people don’t recognize it if one of the auxiliaries isn’t present. That may be what happened with this priest. In the absence of "may" or "let" in front of "The Lord be with you," he may have thought that the latter is just a stuffy, old fashioned way of saying that "The Lord is with you."

But it’s not. While the Lord is omnipresent and thus present with all people everywhere in that sense, he is also "present with" certain people in additional senses. He may be "present with" people in blessing, approval, etc.

That’s what’s happening here. To say "The Lord be with you" means something like "May the Lord bless you, approve of your moral conduct, comfort you with his presence" or something along these lines. In any event, it’s the expression of a wish that God do something good for the people.

It’s therefore presumptuous for the priest to shift the mood to the indicative and simply up and declare that God will do this good thing (whatever it is understood to be) with respect to the people.

MORE ON THE SUBJUNCTIVE.