Mass readings in Scots: Fifth Sunday of the Year (Year A)

First reading
Isaiah 58: 7-10

[The Lord God sais thir thingis:]
Brek thi brede to ane hungri man,
and bring into thin hous mystirfull men and herbriles:
quhen thou seis a nakitman, keuir thou him,
and despise nocht thi flesch (that is bruthir or sistir).
Than thi licht sal brek oat as the mornyng,
and thi hele sal rijse full sone,
and thi richtuisnes sal ga befoire thi face,
and the glorie of the Lord sal gader thee.
Than thou sal call to help, and the Lord sal here;
thou sal cry, and he sal say, Lo! I am present;
for I am merciful, thi Lord God.
[...] Gif thou takis away a chenye fra the myddis of thee,
and ceessis to hald furth the fingir, and to speke that that proffittis nocht.
Quhen thou scheddis out thi saule to ane hungriman,
and fillis a saule tormentit,
thi licht sal rijse in mirknessis,
and thi mirknessis salbe as mydday.

[From The New Testament in Scots Murdoch Nisbet [c.1520] (1905) vol 3 here]


Responsorial Psalm
Psalm 111: 4-9

For the upricht the'r a licht sheenin in the mirk;
he is fou o grace an peety.
Aw's weel for the man that's couthie an gies freely tae ithers;
he will make guid his cause whan he is deemed.

He winna iver be sweyed;
the myndin o the upricht will be tae the fore for aye.
He will hae nae fear o ill newins;
his hert is stieve, for his howp is in the Laird.

His hert rests sauf, he will hae nae fear, till he sees tribble come upo his ill-willers.
He haes gien wi an appen luif tae the puir;
his richtousness is for aye;
his horn will be liftit up wi honour.


[From Psalm 112 in The Old Testament in Scots, vol. 3, The Books of Wisdom, [Job, Psaums, Proverbs, Ecclesiastes, Sang o Sangs] trans. Gavin Falconer and Ross G. Arthur (2014) (translation into Plain Scots under the auspices of the Ullans Academy) ISBN 978-1-78324-006-7. Amazon US here. Amazon UK here.


Second reading
1 Corinthians 2: 1-5

Whan I cam tae Corinth, brether, an proclaimed God's saicret purpose tae ye, aathing wis hame-owre wi me, baith wurds an wit. I had sattelt wi mysel no tae ken ocht, whan I wis wi ye, binna Jesus Christ, mairfortaiken the Jesus Christ o the Cross. I can tell ye I wis fu o douts an dreid, an terrible nervish, whan I cam tae ye. In my speaks an sermons I yuisedna the langage at professors an siclike yuises tae win owre their hearers tae their ain weys o thinkin: it wis God's Spírit an pouer at brocht hame my wurds tae your hairts, for it wis een his will at your faith suid be biggit on his pouer, an no on men's wisdom.

[From The New Testament in Scots (2012), translated by W. L. Lorimer, Canongate Classics, ISBN 978 0 85786 285 3, Amazon UK here, Amazon US here.]



Gospel reading
Matthew 5: 13-16

[Jesus said till his disciples:]

"Ye're e saut o the earth, bit gin e saut his tint its sizzonin, foo will ye mak it sautty again? It's gweed for naethin bit tae be cassen oot an trumpit aneth yer fit. Ye're e licht o e warl. Ye canna hide a toon att's on e heid o a hill. Fan ye licht a cannel, ye dinna pit it aneth e bushel i the barn, bit on e lampstan, far it'll gie licht tae aa att are i the hoose. Sae mak seer yer licht sheens oot afore ither fowk sae they aa mith see yer gweed wark an they'll praise yer Fadder in hivven."

[From The Doric New Testament (2012), rendered in Doric by Gordon M. Hay, published by G. M. Hay, Longside, ISBN 978-0-9573515-0-9, author's website http://www.doricbible.com/, Amazon UK here, Amazon US here.]

Merry Christmas!

 

Today's Mass readings in Scots here:
 
Isaiah 9: 1-7
Luke 2: 1-14


Trewly all devote Christin men and women hes gret cause to be blyth in God quhen thai hear this name. . . Eva zit being a virgin, consenting to the devil brocht the maledictioun of God and eternal dede upon us. But the glorious virgin Marie consenting to the messingeir of God restorit us
agane to the benedictioun of God and eternal lyfe. Be Eva than being a virgin disaivit be werkin of the serpent come all our calamities and daily miserie. Be the virgin Marie berand her sonne be wyrkin of the haly Spreit come all our joy and felicitie. Be Eva brekand the command of God, we are borne the sonnis of wraith and damnatioun. Be the virgin Marie submittand herself to God be perfite fayth and obediens we haif resavit Christ Jesus be quhom we ar borne agane the sonnis of God be adoptioun. Eva throch hir pride and disobediens tynt the grace of God quhairfor it was said to hir, In dolore paries filios tuos [In pain you will give birth to your sons]. . . Bot Marie throch hir meiknes fund grace of God and herd thir wordis said to hir, Ave Maria, &c.

[From Archbishop Hamilton's Catechism [1551] (1882), pp.xxvii-xxviii here]

Mass readings in Scots: Twenty-first Sunday of the Year (Year A)

First reading

Isaiah 22: 19-23

[Sae quo the Lord God o' hosts till Shebna, the gatherer o' the king's-gear:]

Frae the bit whar ye bide, I sal ding yo;

frae yer stance sae stieve, I sal thring yo;

An' in siccan a day, my ain loon I sal hae

-Eliakim, Hilkiah's son:

An' it's him I sal cleed in yer gear;

an' yer girth I sal gar him wear;

an' yer gad I sal rax till his han':

an' till  a' wha bide i' Jerusalem;

an' eke, till Judah's hail halidom;

it's faither till them he sal stan'.

An' the key o' King David's houss on his shouthir I'se lay:

an' he sal gar open, an' nane sal steek;

an' he sal gar steek, an' nane sal open.

An' I'se mak him a nail

in a sikker bit;

an' a thron for his faither's houss he sal sit.

[From Isaiah frae Hebrew intil Scottis, by P. Hately Waddell 1879 (Amazon US here; Amazon UK here)  Google books here]

Responsorial Psalm

Psalm 137: 1-3, 6, 8 (resp. v.8)

O Laird, yer mercy is aye-bidin;

dinna gie up the warks o yer haunds.

A will ruise ye wi aw ma hert:

A will mak melody tae ye afore the gods.

A will wirship afore yer haly Temple,

ruisin yer name for yer mercy an' for yer uncheengin faith:

O Laird, yer mercy is aye-bidin;

dinna gie up the warks o yer haunds.

for ye hae made yer wird greater nor aw yer name.

Whan ma cry come tae yer lugs,

ye answert me 

an made me great wi strenth in ma saul.

O Laird, yer mercy is aye-bidin;

dinna gie up the warks o yer haunds.

Tho the Laird is heich, he sees thaim that's law;

an he kens frae hyne awa o thaim that's liftit up.

O Laird, yer mercy is aye-abidin;

dinna gie up the warks o yer haunds.

O Laird, yer mercy is aye-bidin;

dinna gie up the warks o yer haunds.

[From Psalm 138 in The Old Testament in Scots, vol. 3, The Books of Wisdom, [Job, Psaums, Proverbs, Ecclesiastes, Sang o Sangs] trans. Gavin Falconer and Ross G. Arthur (2014) (translation into Plain Scots under the auspices of the Ullans Academy) ISBN 978-1-78324-006-7. Amazon US here. Amazon UK here.]

Second reading

Romans 11: 33-36

Oh, the faddomless, boddomless walth an wísdom an knawledgeo God! Hou deep an dairk is his juidgements! Hou ill tae finnd an fallow his fit-steds!

        Wha hes e'er kent the mind o the Lord?

        Wha hes he e'er socht rede o?

        Wha hes e'er gíen afore he hes gotten,

        sae at God is behauden til him?

Aathing comes frae him, aathing is up-hauden bi him, aathing gangs hame til him. Til him be glore for iver an ey, âmen!

[From The New Testament in Scots (2012), translated by W. L. Lorimer, Canongate Classics, ISBN 978 0 85786 285 3, Amazon UK here, Amazon US here.]

Gospel reading
Matthew 16:13-20

Whan Jesus had come intil the kintra-side o’ Philip’s Cesarea, he speir’t at his disciples, “Wha dae folk say the Son o’ Man is?” And quo’ they, “Some, John the Baptist; and some, Elijah; and ithers, Jeremiah, or ane o’ the Prophets.” He says to them, “But wha say ye that I am?” And Simon Peter spak, and quo’ he, “ Thou art the Anointit Ane, the Son o’ the Leovin God!” And Jesus answerin, says till him, “ Happy are ye, Simon, son o’ John! for nae flesh and blude tell’t it t’ye, but my Faither i’ the Heevens. And I say t’ye, ye are a Rockman; and on this Rock wull I bigg my kirk; and the yetts o’ Hell sal nevir owercome it! And I wull gie t’ye the keys o’ Heeven’s Kingdom; and what ye sal bind on the yirth sal be bund in Heeven; and what ye sal lowse on the yirth sal be lowsed in Heeven.” Than chairged he the disciples no to tell ony man he was the Anointit Ane.

From The New Testament in Braid Scots William Wye Smith (1904) here

Mass readings in Scots: Sixteenth Sunday of the Year (Year A)

First reading
Wisdom 12: 13, 16-19

For thare is nae ither god but you, that hae care o aw,
sae as ye maun shaw ye dinna gie juidgement unjuistlie.
For yeir pouer is the beginnin o juistice:
an sith ye ir laird o aw, ye mak yeirsel gracious til aw.
For ye shaw yeir pouer, whan men winna trew ye ti be absolute i power,
an ye insense the gallusness o thaim that dinna ken ye.
But ye bein maister o pouer, juidge wi tranquillitie;
an wi gret favour dispose o us:
for yeir pouer is at haund whan ye wul.
But ye hae taucht yeir fowk bi sic warks,
that thai maun be juist an couthie,
an hae made yeir bairns ti be o a guid howp: a
sith i juidgin ye mak scowth for repentance for sins.

[Own translation. Level 2 18/07/20. Methodology here]

Responsorial Psalm
Psalm 85: 5-6, 9-10, 15-16 (resp. v.5)

For thou, Lord, art guid, an' readie till forgie.

For thou, Lord, art guid, an' readie till forgie;
an' routh in mercie untill a' thaime that ca' apon thee.
Gie eær, O Lord, untill my præyer;
an' tak' tent til the voyce o' my supplicationes.

For thou, Lord, art guid, an' readie till forgie.

A' nationes wham thou hest mæde sall cum an' bowe doun afore thee,
O Lord, an' sall glorifie thy næme.
For thou art grit, an' deth wunderfu' things;
thou art God alane.

For thou, Lord, art guid, an' readie till forgie.

But thou, O Lord, art ane God fu' o' tendir pitie, an' gracious,
lang-tholance,
an' waynesum in mercie an' trouth.
O turn untill me, an' hae mercie apon me.

For thou, Lord, art guid, an' readie till forgie.

[From Psalm 86 in The Book of Psalms in Lowland Scots Henry Scott Riddell (1857) here]


Second reading
Romans 8: 26-27

I the same wye, e Speerit helps wir wykeness; cause we dinna ken foo tae pray richt gait, bit e Speerit inno hiz is prayin for hiz in grains att we canna pit in tae wirds. An God, fa sees in till wir herts, kens fit e Speerit means, cause he pleads for God's fowk in God's ain wye.

[From The Doric New Testament (2012), rendered in Doric by Gordon M. Hay, published by G. M. Hay, Longside, ISBN 978-0-9573515-0-9, author's website http://www.doricbible.com/, Amazon UK here, Amazon US here.]

Gospel reading
Matthew 13: 24-43

Anither parable pat he furth untill them, sayin’, "The kingdoom o’ heæven is likenet untill ane man whilk sawet guid seed in his field. But while he sleepet, his enemy cam’ an’ sawet tares amang the wheet, an’ gaed his waye. But whan the braird was sprung up an’ broucht furth frut, than kythet the tares alsua. Sae the servents o’ the houshaulder cam’ an’ said untill him, 'Sir, didestna thou saw guid seed in thy field? frae whance than heth it tares?' He said untill them, 'Ane enemy heth dune this.' The servents said untill him, 'Wult thou than that we gae an’ gether them up?' But he said, 'Na, in kase while ye gether up the tares, ye rute up alsua the wheet wi’ them. Let baith growe thegither until the hairst; an’ in the time o’ the hairst I wull say, til the sheerers, Gether ye thegither first the tares, an’ bin’ them in bunches til burn them: but gether the wheet intill my bern.'"

Anither parable pat he furth untill them, sayin’, "The kingdoom o’ heæven is like til ane grain o’ mustart-seed, whilk ane man tuik an’ sawet in his field; whilk trewlie is the littlest o’ a’ seeds, but whan it is grown it is the gritest amang yirbs, an’ turns out ane trie, sae that the burds o’ the air come an’ ludge in the branches o’t."

Anither parable spak he untill them: "The kingdoom o’ heæven is like untill leæven whilk ane woman tuik an’ hade in three measurs o’ meal, till the haill was leævenet."

А’ thae things spak Jesus untill the multitud in parables; an’ bot ane parable spakna he untill them: that it micht be fufillet whilk was spokin bie the prophet:

     I wull open my mooth in parables;
     I wull utter things whilk hae been keepet secreit frae the fundation o’ the warld.

Than Jesus sendet the multitud awa an’ gaed intill the hous: an’ his discipels cam’ untill him, sayin’, "Mak’ plane untill us the parable o’ the tares o’ the field." He answiret an’ said untill them, "He that sawith the guid seed is the Son o’ man; the field is the wаrld; the guid seed ar the childer o’ the kingdoom; but the tares ar the childer o’ the wicket ane; the enemy that sawet them is the deevil; the hairst is the en’ o’ the wаrld; an’ the sheerers ar the angils. As therfor the tares ar’ getheret an’ brunt in the fire, sae sall it be in the en’ o’ the warld. The Son o’ man sall sen’ furth his angils, an’ they sall gether out o’ his kingdoom a’ things that offen’, an’ them that do inequitie; an sall cast them intill ane furnace o’fire: ther sall be greetin’ an’ nashin’ o’ teeth. Than sall the richtious shine furth as the sun in the kingdoom o’ the Faether. Wha heth ears til hear, let him hear."

The Gospel of St. Matthew in Lowland Scotch, from the English Authorised Version. By H. S. Riddell (1856) here

Weekly posting of Sunday Mass readings in Scots

 



 

For a while now, I've been posting complete readings in Scots for Sunday Mass derived from a variety of sources on a monthly basis. (You'll find an apologia for this undertaking in the blogpost linked to in that sentence.)

 

From this Sunday (Corpus Christi in Scotland) I shall also be posting on a weekly basis the Sunday Gospel reading in Scots whilst continuing to post, at least once in the month, the complete readings for a Sunday Mass (ie (normally) the Old Testament reading, the Responsorial Psalm, the Epistle and the Gospel reading). I'm doing this mostly because I think there's something to be said for the regularity of such an approach. It will also allow the Catholic Church in Scotland to make the (no doubt unworthy!) boast of being the only Church to be providing such regular weekly resources in Scots. (I'm happy to be corrected on this. Resources on a less than weekly basis may be found on the Centre for the Scots Leid here (especially monthly audio readings of Lorimer's New Testament translation) and on the Church of Scotland Worship in Scots webpage here.) As the lectionaries for other Christian communities often coincide with the Catholic lectionary in the Sunday Gospel reading, this will also provide an ecumenical resource.

 

 

 

 

 

 



Mass readings in Scots: Trinity Sunday (Sunday after Pentecost) (Year A)

First Reading:
Exodus 34:4-6, 8-9

Sae Moses gat twa stanes cuttit like the first; an at day-braw he gaen up Munt Sinai, as the Laird haed said, wi the twa stanes in his haund. And the Laird come doun in the clud an taen his place aside Moses, an Moses gien wirship tae the name o the Laird. An the Laird gaen by afore his een, sayin, The Laird, the Laird, a God fou o peety an grace, slaw tae wraith an muckle in mercy an faith. Syne Moses gaen doun swith on his face in wirship. An he said, Gin nou A hae grace in yer een, lat the Laird gang amang us, for this is a thrawn fowk, an forgie us oor wrangdaein an oor sin, an tak us fer heirskip.

(From The Old Testament in Scots, vol. 1, The Pentateuch, trans. Gavin Falconer and Ross G. Arthur (2014) (translation into Plain Scots under the auspices of the Ullans Academy) ISBN 978-1-78324-005-0. Amazon US here. Amazon UK here.



Responsorial Psalm:
Dan 3:52-56

Lord God of our fadris, thou art blessit,
and worthi to be praisit, and glorious, and abone uphieit (or enhansit) into warldis.
Blessit is the name of thi glorie, quhilk is haly,
and worthi to be louit and abone enhannsit into warldis.

Thou art blessit in the hali tempile of thi glorie,
and abone praisabile and glorious into warldis.

Thou art blessit in the throne of thi realmme,
and abone praisabile and abone enhansit into warldis.

Thou art blessit that behaldis the depnes of watris, and sittis on cherubyn;
(and art) praisabile and abone enhansit into warldis.

Thou art blessit in the firmament of heuen,
and praisabile and glorious into warldis.

(From The New Testament in Scots (1520) vol. 3 by Murdoch Nisbet here)


Second reading:
2 Corinthians 13:11-13

But noo i’ the end, brethren, rejoicin, restore yersels to order; be consoled; be o’ the ae mind; leeve thegither in peace ; and the God o’ love and peace sal be wi’ ye!

Greet ye ane anither wi’ a sacred kiss. A’ the saunts salute ye.

The favor o’ the Lord Jesus Christ, and the love o’ God, and the indwallin o’ the Holie Spirit, be wi’ ye a’!
 
(From The New Testament in Braid Scots (1904) by William Wye Smith here)



Gospel:
John 3: 16-18

For God sae loved the warld
as to gie his Son, the Only-Begotten Ane,
that ilka ane wha lippens till him sudna dee,
but hae Life for aye.
For God sent-na his Son intil the warld
to bring condemnation on’t,
but that raither the warld micht be saved by him.
And ane that lippens him isna hauden guilty;
but ane wha winna lippen him is judged guilty e’en no;
for he hasna lippened
to the Son o’ God, the only-begotten Ane.

(From The New Testament in Braid Scots (1904) by William Wye Smith here)

Mass Readings in Scots: Feast of the Ascension (Year A)

First reading
Acts 1:1-11

The first historie I made, O Theophilus, anent a' that Jesus begude baith to do and to teach, till whatna day he was taen up, eftir that he had by the Holie Spirit gien commauns to the Apostles he had waled oot; and to wham he schawed his sel leevin eftir his sufferans, by mony sure and certain tokens, appearin to them throwe forty days, and speakin o’ the things anent the kingdom o’ God. And companyin wi’ them, chairged them no to gang awa frae Jerusalem, but to bide for the promise o’ the Faither, “ Whilk,” quo’ he, “ye hae heard o’ me. For in sooth John bapteez’t wi' watir, but ye sal be bapteez’t in Holie Spirit no mony days frae noo !”

And sae they, whan they cam thegither, speir’t at him, “Lord, do thou at this time bring back the kingdom to Isra’l?” And he said to them, “It isna for you to ken times and seasons, whilk the Faither has keepit in his ain haun. But ye sal hae strenth, eftir the Holie Spirit is come to ye; and ye sal be witnesses for me baith in Jerusalem, and in a’ Judea and Samaria, and to the far-awa’ ends o’ the yirth.”

 And whan he had said thir things, while they war lookin on, he was liftit up; and a clud happit
him oot o’ their sicht. And while they lookit, peerin intil the heavens, as he gaed up, twa men stude by them in white cleedin; wha said, “Ye men frae Galilee ! why staun ye peerin intil the lift? The same Jesus, wha has been ta’en frae you intil Heeven, sal come in like mainner as ye hae seen him gang intil Heeven.”

(From The New Testament in Braid Scots (1904) by William Wye Smith here)

Responsorial Psalm
Psalm 46 (47): 2-3, 6-9

Ding wi the loof, O a' ye folk!
Lilt ye till God wi' the sugh o' a sang !

For the Lord owre a' is himlane till be fear'd;
atowre the hail yirth, a king fu' gran'.

God has gane up wi' a sugh ;
the Lord wi' the tout o' a swesch.

Sing ye till God, sing a sang :
sing a sang till our King, sing ye.

For God himlane, o' the hail yirth is King;
fu' wyssly till him sing ye.

God owre the hethen is king;
God sits on his thron, sae weel shiftit.

(From Psalm 47, The Psalms: frae Hebrew intil Scottis P. Hately Waddell (1891) here)



Second reading
Ephesians 1:17-23

That the God o’ oor Lord Jesus Christ, the Faither o’ glorie, may gie ye a spirit o’ wisdom and revealin in his knowledge: yere inward een bein fu’ o’ licht, that ye may come to ken what the hope o’ his blythe-bidden is, what his rich inheritance o’ glorie i’ the saunts, and what the unmeasured vastness o’ his pooer toward us wha hae faith, e’en as by the up haudin o’ his micht, whilk he wrocht in Christ, raisin him frae ’mang the deid, and settin him doon amang a’ the heevenlies, at his ain richt-haun, far up aboon a’ rule, and authorise, and pooer, and dominion, and ilka name that is named, no alane i’ this warld, but eke in that that is to come: and "pat a’ things under his feet"; and gied him as heid ower a' things to the Kirk; whilk in sooth is his body, the completion o’ him wha completes a’ in a’ for himsel.

(From The New Testament in Braid Scots (1904) by William Wye Smith here)



Gospel
Matthew 28:16-20

And the xj discipilis went into Galilee, into ane hill quhar Jesus had ordanit thaim. And thai saw him, and wirschipit; bot sum of tham doutit. And Jesus com nere and spak to tham, and said, Al powere in heuen and in erde is gevin to me. Tharfor ga ye and teche al folkis, baptizing tham in the name of the Fader, and of the Sonn, and of the Haligast; Teching thame to kepe al thingis quhat euir thing I haue comandit to you ; and, lo, I am with yow in al dais, til into the ending of the warlde.

(From The New Testament in Scots Murdoch Nisbet [c.1520] (1901) vol 1 here)

Mass readings in Scots: 5th Sunday in Easter (Year A)

First Reading:



Acts 6:1-7

Noo, i’ thae days, thar gat up a murmurin amang the Grecian Jews again the Hebrew anes, aboot
the weedows bein owerlookit i' the giean-oot o’ the daily breid. And the Twal’ brocht the thrang
o' the disciples thegither, and quo’ they, “It’s no bonnie that we soud lea’ the service o’ the Word o’ God, and ser’ tables. Sae, brethren, look ye oot frae ’mang yersels seeven men o’ gude name, wyss men, fu’ o’ the Spirit, that we may set ower this maitter. But we wull mainteen oorsels aye in prayer, and i’ the service o’the Word.”

And the word was weel thocht o’ o’ a’ the thrang; and they named Stephen, ane fu’ o’ faith and the Holie Spirit, and Philip, and Prochorus, and Nicapor, and Timon, and Parmenas, and Nicolas, a proselyte frae Antioch. Wham they set fornent the Apostles; and whan they had prayed they set their hauns on them. And the word o’ God grew uncolie ; and the feck o’ the disciples multiply't in Jerusalem; and an unco thrang o’ the priests follow’t the faith.

(From The New Testament in Braid Scots (1904) by William Wye Smith here)

 

Responsorial Psalm:

Psalm 32 (33):1-2, 4-5, 18-19

 

1 Rejoyce in the Lord, O ye richteous;
for prayse is cumlie in the upricht.

2 Prayse the Lord wi' herp;

sing untill him wi' the psaltrie, an' ane instriment o' ten strings.

4 For the wurd o' the Lord is richt;

an' a' his warks ar dune in trouth.

5 He loes richteousniss an' juudgemint;

the yirth is fu' o' the guidniss o' the Lord. 

18 Behald, the ee o' the Lord is apon thame that feær him,
apon thame that houpe in his mercie;

19 Til free thair saul frae deæth,

an' til keep thame alæive in scanth o' fude.
 

(From Psalm 33, in The Book of Psalms in Lowland Scotch by Henry Scott Riddell (1857) here)

Second Reading:
1 Peter 2:4-9

And nere ye to him, that is a leving staan, and repreuit of men, bot chosen of God, and honourit; And ye you self as quick staanis be ye abone biggit in to spirituale housis, and ane haly preesthede, to offir spirituale sacrifices, acceptabile to God be Jesu Crist. For quhilk thing the scriptur sais, Lo! I sal set in Syon the heichast kirnale staan, chosen and precious; and he that sal beleue in him, sal nocht be confonndit. Tharfor honour to you that beleues; bot to men that beleues nocht, the staan quham the biggaris repreuit, this is made into the hede of the kirnale; and the staan of hurting, and staan of sclandir, to thaim that offendis to the word, nouthir beleues it, in quhilk thai ar set.

Bot ye ar a chosen kynn, a kinglie preesthede, haly folk, a pepile of purchasing, that ye tell the virtues of him, that callit you fra mirknessis into his wondirful licht.

(From The New Testament in Scots (1520) vol. 3 by Murdoch Nisbet here)

Gospel:
John 14:1-12

"Dïnnae let yer hairts be sair annoyt. Pit yer trust ïn God, an lippen ïn me forbye. In ma Faither's hoose thair's monie dwallin-places. If that wusnae richt, A wudnae hae toul ye that A'm gaun tae mak a place readie fer ye, wud A noo? An whaniver A hae got a place readie fer ye, A'll cum an tak yis bak alang wi me, sae that whar A be, we'll aa be thegither. Yis ken whar A'm gaun, an yis ken tha róad tae whar A'm gaun."

Tammas turnt an saed til hïm, "Loard, we hae nae notion o whar ye'r fer, sae hoo cud we ken tha róad?" Jesus reponed, "A be tha róad, an tha truith, an tha life. Naebodie cums tae tha Faither but throu me. If ye knowed me weel, ye wud ken ma Faither as weel. Frae noo on, yis dae ken hïm an yis hae saa hïm forbye!"

Phïlip saed, "Loard, show iz tha Faither an that'll be eneuch fer iz." Jesus answert, "Dae ye no ken me Phïlip, tha mair A hae bin amang yis aa thïs time? Oniebodie lukkin at me haes saen tha Faither. Sae hoo can ye say, 'Show iz tha Faither?' Phïlip, dae ye no believe that A be ïn tha Faither an tha Faither's ïn me? Tha wurds A'm taakin til yis ir no jist ma ain. Na,  ït's tha Faither, leevin ïn me, wha's daein hïs wark. Tak ma wurd fer ït whaniver A say that A be ïn tha Faither an tha Faither ïs ïn me; or at the laist, trust me acause o tha warks yis hae saen me daein.

"Noo here's tha truith o ït, oniebodie that pits thair faith ïn me wull dae tha same warks that A dae. Ay, an he'll dae faur bïgger thïngs ner thon, fer A'm gaun tae be wi ma Faither."

(From Tha Fower Gospels  (2016) (Ulster-Scots), Ullans Press, ISBN: 978-1-905281-25-1, Amazon UK here,  Amazon US here.)

 

 

New venture: Mass readings in Scots language

                                                       Lazarus dressed for blogging

Ninian Winzet's savaging of John Knox in 1563 for forgetting "our auld plane Scottis quhilk zour mother lerit you." Winzet, McClure explains, was merely ladling on yet more irony in questioning why Knox had not answered the doctrinal questions Winzet had earlier posed: perhaps you are unable to read my handwriting; perhaps you have forgotten your mother tongue. For the purpose of his argument, Winzet could allege a difference in language between his own "plane Scottis" and the variety of English Knox had adopted as part of an excessive "curiositie of nouatiounis."

From: 
Bailey, Richard W. (1991) "Scots and Scotticisms: Language and Ideology," Studies in Scottish Literature: Vol. 26: Iss. 1. (Available at: http://scholarcommons.sc.edu/ssl/vol26/iss1/7 )


David Leask has been banging on a while now about the way Unionists have amongst other things) developed a neuralgic reaction to the Scots language (eg Herald article here). I wouldn't put it quite the way he does, but I do think there's a general problem of political debate in Scotland becoming simplified into the one issue of 'Independence -for or against?' and of other important questions becoming weaponized by both sides in the attempt to win this one battle.

From the 'progressive' Nationalist side, I don't suppose I need to make a case for Scots. (Although in principle, the justification for an emphasis on Scots ought to be problematic in such circles, even if in fact it isn't.)

Turning to the Right, to the extent that the Right is now synonymous with Unionism in Scotland, there is no particular reason why Scots as a language should be a target. There can be different views on its importance, but there is no obvious reason in principle why hostility to Scots is entailed by hostility to Scottish Independence: one of the great pleasures in reading Walter Scott's canon recently was the discovery of just how well he uses Scots in a variety of different registers. (And no obvious SNP-er he.) I sympathise with a kneejerk reaction to the nonsense that graces the pages of The National and to  political Nationalist attempts to coopt the language, but what is kneejerk needs to be resisted. Conservatives need to be much smarter than this: culture is much, much more important than politics.

But, digging a little more deeply, what of a conservatism that is not simply identical with Unionism? Difficult though it may be to peer through the fog of war and see the underlying principles at stake here, it's essential that those of us who (at least in broad terms) think of ourselves as cultural conservatives don't fall into the trap of a simple identification with the Conservative Party and thus Unionism (because the Scottish Conservative Party is self declared as progressive and because, in any case, social conservatives do not have to be supporters of the Conservative Party) or of a simple identification of Unionism and conservatism. I think the former point is relatively straightforward, so it's to the latter I turn.

Imagine for a moment that I am a Kirkian or Scrutonian conservative. Let's adopt the (somewhat ill-fitting) title of 'palaeo-conservative' as shorthand. Why would I be hostile to Scots (quite apart from necessarily hostile to Nationalism or Independence)? I put aside as utterly irrelevant the question of whether or not it is a proper language: it is at the least a proper dialect, and one with a rich, longstanding literature. With an emphasis on the local and the imaginative, and quite simply the preservation of what has been, why would I be resistant to at least preserving (quite apart from promoting) Scots? I struggle to think of an answer except for the assertion that there are more important things to think about. Possibly. But one of the key elements at least of Russell Kirk's conservatism is its element of fancy and eccentric individuality: if people see fit (as many whom I admire do) to spend their time promoting and thinking about Tolkien, then why should not those of us whom Tolkien leaves rather cold, spend time thinking about and preserving Scots?

Beyond this, I think there is a special duty on Scots Catholics to re-imagine and re-enchant Scotland. There has been a strong current in English Catholicism, seen both in Walsingham and the sense of England as Our Lady's Dowry, to remember and wish to recreate at least in imagination, an England in which the Reformation never happened or at least has been healed. For whatever reasons, this sense is rather diminished in Scotland. (The main exception to this in recent years has been George Mackay Brown, but, even here, his emphasis on Orkney reduces his impact on non-Scandinavian Scotland.) So what would a Scotland freed from the poison of the Reformation look like? What would it be for it to live as a daily reality its status as Specialis Filia Romanae Ecclesiae? Well, for one thing, at the very least a greater awareness of the mediaeval literary heritage in Scots. (Back to Dunbar, indeed.)

Anyway, let him wha will be a traitor knave. I don't know what other shenanigans I'll get up to on this, but, from this Sunday (and at least monthly thereafter until -as per usual- I get bored) I'll be posting selected Mass readings in Scots. These will be pilfered from a variety of sources rather than my own workings and this will doubtless result in a number of absurdities. (On present estimates, I'll need to make use of at least some readings in modern Ulster Scots as well as in Scotticised Middle English. (I don't totally dismiss the possibility of resorting to machine translation either.) The resulting linguisic tensions can either be ignored or celebrated as a re-enactment of the linguistic tensions necessarily involved in the original language texts of a 'book' which has been assembled by the Church from a variety of texts produced over centuries.) As with so many other ventures, I am happy to do it badly with a view to others eventually doing it better.

A couple of final points. First, everything I say above in favour of Scots could be said of Gaelic but with even greater force. That I say nothing here of Gaelic is a result entirely of my very, very limited acquaintance with that language. Secondly, none of this is to be taken as suggesting that actual Masses should be said in Scots. I suppose there is an argument in favour of such a view, but it's not one that I'm engaged in. (For what it's worth, I would ban all experiments in the language of the Mass for 1000 years and, if there is a lust for linguistic variety, urge a greater use of Scotland's other great historic language, Latin. But that's for another day.) My purpose here (quite apart from its being a simple jeu d'esprit) is simply to allow that imaginative reception of the liturgy into a wider culture that can be seen (eg) in mediaeval mystery plays and church decoration, and the transformation of that wider culture by a Catholic presence. (Pie in the Sky in practice, no doubt, but at least (ignored) there will be in principle a Catlick presence in a field too often dominated by Proddy, Secularist (and Ginger) Dugs.)

Corpus Christi

 Tomorrow (Sunday 2 June) is the Feast of Corpus Christi. I've blogged before about the nature of the claim that bread and wine literally become the body and blood of Christ in transubstantiation, but I've recently discovered that Elizabeth Anscombe's essay on transubstantiation is available online. I remember reading this in her collected papers when I was an (atheist) undergraduate, and being terribly struck by it (although not quite overcoming the wonder that such a fine mind could be a Catholic. I mean, really!)

Anyway, it's full of fine things, particularly a Wittgensteinian sense that meaning is carried in practice as well as words, whilst not reducing transubstantiation simply to a sort of well-intentioned make believe:

When one says "transubstantiation" one is saying exactly what one teaches the child, in teaching it that Christ's words, by the divine power given to the priest who uses them in his place, have changed the bread so that it isn't there any more (nor the stuff of which it was made) but instead there is the body of Christ. The little child can grasp this and it is implicit in the act of worship that follows the teaching. I knew a child, close upon three years old and only then beginning to talk, but taught as I have described, who was in the free space at the back of the church when the mother went to communion. "Is he in you?" the child asked when the mother came back. "Yes," she said, and to her amazement the child prostrated itself before her. I can testify to this, for I saw it happen. I once told the story to one of those theologians who unhappily (as it seems) strive to alter and water down our faith, and he deplored it: he wished to say, and hoped that the Vatican Council would say, something that would show the child's idea to be wrong. I guessed then that the poor wretch was losing the faith and indeed so, sadly, did it turn out.

It is appropriate on the feast of Justin Martyr, who perhaps more than any other figure in the early Church symbolizes that marriage of reason and revelation that is true Christianity, to recall Anscombe's closing words on the eucharistic mystery:

It is the mystery of the faith which is the same for the simple and the learned. For they believe the same, and what is grasped by the simple is not better understood by the learned: their service is to clear away the rubbish which the human reason so often throws in the way to create obstacles.

Modernist architecture and Catholic Scotland

                                     St Peter's Seminary then. (St Peter's Seminary now.) 

Rather an interesting programme from Radio 4 about the Scottish architects, Gillespie Kidd & Coia, who were responsible for many modernist churches in Scotland, as well as the notorious St Peter's Seminary in Cardross. (Radio programme archived here -I assume available for at least the usual 7 days (ie until 14/04/13).)

Now that Easter and the papal election and the 'retiral' of Cardinal O'Brien have receded a little into the past, I suppose we really do need to think about how we should react to the Church crisis which may not really be a crisis after all. I posted previously about the need for 'solutions' to be accompanied by some explanation of how they're supposed to work and what they are aimed at. I also suggested that the main crisis in Scotland and elsewhere in the West is not some minor detail of administration or discipline, but the general issue of secularization and the Church's relationship to modernity. Pope Francis' election has provoked some spluttering in the more traditionalist corners of the Catholic blogosphere simply on the grounds that it is entirely clear that in 'style' (eg what shoes he wears and what type of cross he carries) he isn't a traditionalist. The anxieties this provokes are either that, very directly, such a lack of attention to tradition is part of a carelessness about liturgy which is central to the Church's failure to withstand secularizing modernity, or, less directly, that carelessness about inessentials is suggestive of a carelessness about other, more important aspects of Catholicism.

Putting that aside, the issue of modernist Church architecture in Scotland strikes me as a good concrete issue on which reflection may well provide a rather deeper insight into central issues.  I confess (as in so much else in my life) to being pulled in various ways on this. Tell it not in Gath (or Cumbernauld) but I'm quite fond of brutalist architecture. On the other hand, I'm allergic to those sorts of felt banners with designs that seem to have been made by the P3 embroidery class that infest many Scottish Churches, not to mention polyester vestments and liturgical dance. If you suggest to me (as one of the speakers on the radio programme does) that there is in principle a tension between on the one hand the desire of modernist architecture to strip out both meaning and the past and on the other hand the mission of the Church, I can see your point, but still.... Just not sure.

Linda Woodhead  (about 24 minutes into the programme) attempts to impose a narrative on the initial popularity of Gillespie Kidd and Coia with the Scottish Church and its subsequent fall from grace (ie the work dried up) as one of a failure of confidence: Vatican II opened things up, but the Church got frit and retreated to its bunker. Given that Woodhead goes on to say that the main problem for architecture is working out how to accommodate post-Christian spirituality in a built form, you can see that her agenda might well not be that of Catholicism. One point she misses is that modernist architecture has become generally unpopular: it is not just the Catholic Church which has rejected it, but also mainstream (ie secularized) society as well.

Anyway, a good programme which raises issues about the state of the Scottish Church in the post Vatican II era, the relationship between art and the Church, and the ongoing problem of the relationship between modernity and Catholicism. (Not of course that it solves them, worst luck.)


Further links:

Some photos of GK and C buildings: here  and here.

Wikipedia article on GK and C: here.

Cardinal O'Brien and married priests

It doesn't particularly surprise me that Cardinal O'Brien has suggested the possibility of married priests in a BBC interview. He's quite clear about the differences between matters of doctrine which are unchangeable and matters of discipline which might be changed, among them married priests. His remarks about married priests fall short of a ringing endorsement, and are more of an acknowledgment of a possibility, and the expression of a personal preference for that possibility of marriage in response to the interviewer's persistent questions on the subject. (The relevant portion is about 17mins into the interview.)

I'd be very happy if others had the opportunity of considering whether or not they could or should be married. It's a free world and I realise many priests have found it very difficult to cope with celibacy as they lived out their priesthood, and felt the need of a companion, of a woman, to whom they could get married and raise a family (Here from The Guardian.)

When John Haldane called for this last year, I suspected that he would only have done so if he was sure that this view had a measure of support, particularly within the Scottish hierarchy. Unlike Haldane's intervention, Cardinal O'Brien focuses less on the direct benefits to the Church and more on the benefits to priests. Moreover, the issue seems of much more interest to the interviewer than to the Cardinal.

It is worth stressing again that such a change would be perfectly possible: married priests already exist within the Catholic Church and the extension of this would be a matter of a change in discipline rather than a change in doctrine. However, as I concluded after my previous rather lengthier discussion of Haldane's suggestion, I remain unconvinced:

Maybe married priests should be allowed: it's clearly possible in a way that allowing women to be priests isn't. But my own view is that the advantages are so unclear that it's an unwise step.

Sarum Use in Scotland

                                          Photograph of the Sarum Use (-ish)


I'm not really that interested in the minutiae of liturgy. For a start, I have rather odd memories of evenings in a pub at university where, meeting with friends on a regular (I think) Tuesday evening, we would invariably be near a table where the 'Liturgical Society' would be assembled. Whilst we quaffed ale and discussed our chances of getting off with this or that girl (I wasn't a Catholic at that time otherwise I would have confined myself simply to composing expressions of undying love preferably in Provencal (which on reflection would probably have been rather more successful than my actual endeavours)), whispered discussions of lace and albs and cottas and sherry would drift over. It was all rather unsettling.

Anyway, just so long as I'm not subjected to clown masses or Barney the dinosaur blessing me, I'm reasonably happy. I'm also happy that others who are interested and have thought about this more deeply than I have are beavering away in getting those details right.

That said, my interest was piqued by the discussion of the Sarum Use in connexion with a Mass for Richard III, and, more particularly, with the claim (here) that there was a Use of Aberdeen apart from the Sarum Use.

So what was the state of the liturgy in Scotland prior to the Reformation? What follows doesn't attempt to do more than gather together the immediate fruits of a brief foray into the internet so that I (or others) can pick up the topic from a running start if interested. (So feel free to chip in and correct me.)

1. Sarum was pretty much standard in Scotland. I take this from a posting at Father Chadwick's Anglican blog on the Sarum Use in Scotland here.

2. To this basic Sarum Use, a number of additions had been made to reflect Scottish saints etc.

The liturgy of the Scottish secular cathedrals was probably the most confused in the Western Church. All had at an early stage adopted the widely accepted English Use of Salisbury (or 'Sarum'), though it appears that individual churches simply used whatever liturgical books they could get and some may have followed other English uses [particularly those of York, Chichester and Lincoln]. To these books, already overcrowded with the feast of English saints,   Scottish churches added those of their own local saints together with devotional practices from the Continent which were absorbed into Scottish practice more readily than in England. Since no attempt was made to provide for these additions, the result could be chaotic.

(from Galbraith, J. D., 'The Glamis Copy of the Aberdeen Breviary' , Archives, 14:63 (1980:Spring) p.141-2 [not openly available online but is available through university journal databases])

3. This hotch potch was subject to a revision which attempted to stabilize at least the breviary on a more systematic basis: a 'Scottis Use'. This was attempted by Bishop Elphinstone of Aberdeen in 1507 but seems to have failed, perhaps in part to the defeat at Flodden, and perhaps due to the unwieldiness of the Scottis Use as practised. (This is based on Galbraith 1980.)

4. It is not clear whether any attempt was made to produce a revised Scottis Use Missal along similar lines. (From Eeles, 1899 -see 5 below.)

5. A surviving Missal from St Nicholas Aberdeen seems to be from before Bishop Elphinstone's reforms and gives a sense of the chaotic state of Scottish liturgy.

In conclusion, the value of this missal to us is that it gives the old

traditional Use of Aberdeen, untouched by Elphinstone, and that it

proves that the great number of local and Celtic saints in Elphinstone's

kalendar were not of his own introduction, but the continuous tradition

of the place, continuous probably from Celtic times, though in a somewhat degenerate state. We see, too, how these saints, not being ousted

by the English kalendar, became super-imposed upon it, and brought

the Scotch services into a perfectly unmanageable state. Hence Bishop

Elphinstone's preface to the breviary, where he speaks of the legends

of the saints—quae sparsim in incerto antea vagabantur. We know that

in England at the time of the Reformation, without any great number

of local saints, " the number and hardness of the Rules called the Pie,

and the manifold changings of the Service, was the cause, that to turn

the Book only was so hard a matter, that many times there was more

business to find out what should be read, than to read it when it was

found out," so overladen had the Sarum- books then become. Add to

this a local kalendar like the one we see here, and we get some idea

of the state of the Scottish services before Bishop Elphinstone's reforms,

and probably to a great extent afterwards in many places.

We also see further evidence of the general adoption of the Sarum

books in the mainland of Scotland; but, at the same time, we find that they

were freely supplemented, not only from traditional sources originally

Celtic, but also from non Sarum books, sometimes purely continental, but

sometimes possibly what were in use in Galloway, Orkney, or the Isles.

(from Notes on a Missal formerly used in St Nicholas, Aberdeen. (pp 440-60)
Eeles, F C, Proceedings of the Society of Antiquaries of Scotland, vol 33, 1898-9: available online here.)


Valle Adurni comments on a revival of the Use of Sarum in Aberdeen in 2000:

The then Bishop of Aberdeen, Mario Conti, celebrated a Sarum Mass in 2000 in Aberdeen for the University. Quite apart from the fact that the Sarum Mass was never celebrated in Aberdeen before this (as I mentioned above, it had its own rite before the Reformation), it was an interesting thing to do.

In the light of the above, I think it's a bit unfair to say that the Sarum Mass was never celebrated before in Aberdeen. The pre-Elphinstone situation seems to have been Sarum, but with chaotic additions. The post-Elphinstone situation doesn't seem that different. Accordingly, taking Sarum as the basis for a pre-Tridentine Scottis Use doesn't seem at all unreasonable.

[Update 14/7/18: Thomas Innes, ‘Note on the Sarum Use in Scotland’, in, Spalding Club Miscellany, ed. J. Stuart (Edinburgh, 1842), 364–7 internet archive here. H/T Sacred Signs in Reformation Scotland, Stephen Holmes (2015). This paper argues that the Use of Sarum was prevalent in Scotland before the invasion of Edward I and widespread (if not universal) thereafter.]

H/T:

I've gone back and forth on a number of blogs here, so apologies if I leave anyone out!

Protect the Pope: Sarum Use for Richard III.

Valle Adurni: Legal status of Sarum Use.

Project Canterbury: pictures of Anglo-Catholic liturgy based on Sarum.

Father Anthony Chadwick (independent Anglican): Sarum in Scotland and other posts on Sarum Use.

Liturgiae Causa (independent traditionalist) Post on Sarum Use.

New Liturgical Movement also seems to contain a number of items on Sarum, though nothing specifically on Scotland so far as I could see from a quick search.

The children's gaze and the liturgy

'Tis the season of Nativity plays. Well, if you're lucky. When my children were at non-Catholic primary schools, it was usually something along the line of, 'My Camel's got the Hump' or 'The Naughty Sheep': a play which gestured at Christmas themes without ever quite getting there.

Anyway, one of the pleasures of being a parent or even an indulgent uncle or friend is that you get to see the world through a child's eyes. Christmas is chock full of such moments: adults smiling benignly at children transfixed at meeting Santa or consumed by playing with a favoured toy. Admittedly these moments are often rapidly replaced by child screaming with fright at Santa or throwing the toy at sister, but still, it lasted for a moment, and for that moment, the world is seen afresh.

Quite a lot of children's Masses seem to aspire to be like that. Some of the churches we have frequented over the years have held a special children's Mass on a regular basis (and of course such Masses are an unavoidable part of life in a Catholic school). One aspect of these I was never quite sure about was the 'sermon slot' which often consisted of the priest chatting with the children. Quite apart from the liturgical propriety of this, I was always distinctly uneasy with the sense that this was really a performance put on for the benefit of the adults: instead of the priest really evangelizing the children, he was instead evangelizing the parents through the children. I'm not overly enamoured with Kant, but I was distinctly uneasy with the idea of treating children as means rather than ends...

But whatever the rights and wrongs of getting adults to see through a child's eyes in the liturgy on an occasional basis, it can't be right to do so on a permanent basis. Feminist theory over the years has made a great deal of the male gaze: roughly, the idea that much art in the western canon has been made to be seen by men (and thus either alienating or masculinizing the female spectator). Much modern liturgy seems to have been made for the child's gaze, in which adults are encouraged to see the world through a child's eyes.

Now I'm not sure of the exact reasons for this. Partly it may be due to the sociological fact that many parents seem happier letting their children indulge in religion than indulging in it themselves. (Christianity, like Santa, is 'nice for the kids'.)  Partly it may be due to an echo of Matthew 18:3:

Verily I say unto you, Except ye be converted , and become as little children, ye shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven.

Who knows? But just as forcing women to see uncritically through men's eyes is a bad idea, it is a bad idea to infantalize adults by forcing them to adopt the child's gaze. If anything, we should be introducing children to the adult gaze: how to see the world from a fully mature point of view. It also produces the crassness of imperfect imitation: instead of getting what a child would really see, you get an aging hippy's version of what a child might be thought to see, an imitation about as convincing as RADA educated 1930s' actors imitation of cockney:

Women priests, women Hamlets?

                                             What do you mean I can't be a Bishop?

Having listened to various bien pensants fulminating against the Church of England for not immediately allowing women bishops, I can't help feeling glad to be well out of it. Apart from worrying that, should politicians really decide to override the Synod and impose 'equality', they might get a taste for it (did I really hear Frank Field on Radio 4's PM hinting that if ever the majority of Catholics wanted women priests then MPs should step in give effect to that view?), as a Scot and a Catholic, it's really not much of my business.

It's clear that the Synod decision is more about dissatisfaction with the protection offered to the minority opposed to women's ordination than it is directly about opposing women bishops. It's also clear that for any relatively straightforward Catholic like myself the matter is closed by the definitive teachings contained in Ordinatio Sacerdotalis and the CDF's responsum making clear that the impossibility of women's priestly ordination is part of the deposit of faith.

It's impossible to convince non-Christians that women can't be priests. From an outsider's point of view, it's just another job, it's just another position of power. Women have historically been excluded from such positions in other areas, and the Church just needs to catch up. But I wonder if at least some of the point of the exclusion can be caught from looking at the theatre. As yet (and who knows what fresh hell awaits my children) we do not have crowds of demonstrators demanding that Hamlet is played by a woman or that Violetta in La Traviata is sung by Bryn Terfel. With the exception of rare cases of parody or deliberate playing with gender expectations (such as Asta Nielsen above), we accept that it matters that women are played by women and men by men. (Even where the roles are swapped, it doesn't cease to matter: it's just that we're playing with what matters.)

The prime task of a priest is not to organize the church raffle or raise money for the roof: he is there to impersonate Christ, particularly in the sacrifice of the Mass:



1548 In the ecclesial service of the ordained minister, it is Christ himself who is present to his Church as Head of his Body, Shepherd of his flock, high priest of the redemptive sacrifice, Teacher of Truth. This is what the Church means by saying that the priest, by virtue of the sacrament of Holy Orders, acts in persona Christi Capitis:

It is the same priest, Christ Jesus, whose sacred person his minister truly represents. Now the minister, by reason of the sacerdotal consecration which he has received, is truly made like to the high priest and possesses the authority to act in the power and place of the person of Christ himself (virtute ac persona ipsius Christi).

Christ is the source of all priesthood: the priest of the old law was a figure of Christ, and the priest of the new law acts in the person of Christ.

1549 Through the ordained ministry, especially that of bishops and priests, the presence of Christ as head of the Church is made visible in the midst of the community of believers.26 In the beautiful expression of St. Ignatius of Antioch, the bishop is typos tou Patros: he is like the living image of God the Father. (From the Catechism.)

Now I fully accept that it is one thing to note that priest acts in persona Christi, another to show that it is impossible for a woman to do so. (The argument goes back and forth until settled, as it has been, by Magisterial authority.) But why is it that we find it so easy to accept that Hamlet can normally only be impersonated by a man, but so difficult to accept that Christ can only be impersonated by a man?

In fine, gender and sex matter. A male Hamlet does not convey the same set of meanings as a female Hamlet. A female priest does not convey the same set of meanings as a male one. It is of course open to theologians to argue that the set of meanings conveyed by a female priesthood are better than those conveyed by a solely male one (open, that is, unless you accept the Magisterial authority of the Papacy), just as it is possible to argue that Hamlet is better played by a woman. But what it is not possible within a Christianity that bears any recognizable relationship to the catholic tradition is to argue that it is simply a matter of equal jobs for women.

Sticking up for Tina Beattie (a bit)

Tina Beattie's been getting it in the neck again.

As regular readers of Catholic blogs will realize, Professor Beattie has become a bit of focus for orthodox Catholic anger at heterodox teachings in the modern Church. The latest wave has picked up some of her writings about the Mass and attacked her for describing it as an act of homosexual intercourse. (Here from Protect the Pope and here for the Bones' rather amusing take on it. )

Frankly, I'm pulled in two ways on this. I'm with the other orthodox bloggers in thinking it's pretty outrageous that someone who teaches heresy should be able to be described as a Catholic theologian with all the influence that carries. That's less directed at Professor Beattie (who's getting perhaps more than her fair share of the flak) than at the general run of things: there are far too many academics and literati running around with 'Catholic' as a description who seem to spend most of their time lobbing their dissenting opinions at the Church. (Many of them seem to be hanging out here.) One of the facets of the modern world is that many ordinary Catholics are well-educated in secular terms and rightly want to extend their knowledge of theology. To do that, there needs to be some sort of quality control so that they are not misled into thinking that all the smart Catholics are heretics and that any degree of intellectual sophistication is incompatible with orthodoxy. That's really down to the Bishops' exercising of their pastoral authority to lead and guide the faithful. It's not an easy task in a modern world of competing voices all claiming authority, and particularly not an easy one in a country such as the UK where most (Catholic) theologians work in non-Catholic institutions. However, easy or not, much more needs to be done to make it clear that the Church does make absolute claims to truth and there are some theological opinions, however sincerely held, which are false. (That said, such pronouncements need to explain their positions -and that's not always a straightforward thing to do to a laity often eager for novelty and impatient of judgments at odds with the familiar, secular world.)

On the other hand, the specific issue that Protect the Pope has raised is rather trickier than a straightforward teaching of heresy. In essence, it is a common theological approach (largely, I think, in the modern case originating from von Balthasar) to regard theology and sex as mutually informative: we should view sex theologically (so the Theology of the Body) and we should understand God through our embodiment, particularly through sexual differences. On the whole, I think that's rather a good thing. In particular, it restores the sexual differences between men and women to an important place in our thinking about the world: instead of seeing us as just human beings with different bits stuck on, we start to regard men and women as being equal and essentially different: broadly speaking, this is the position of the New Catholic Feminism (see here).

One particular application of this general line of thinking is in the restriction of the priesthood to men. What is just a ridiculous relic of sexism for someone who views men and women as identical becomes a consequence of the meaning of our sexual embodiment for someone who views men and women as essentially different. (Balthasar's reflections on the restriction of the priesthood to men is here. (PDF).) So the exploration of the meanings of maleness and femaleness in the Mass becomes very important theologically.

Now, Professor Beattie does exactly that. When she explores the symbolism of the Mass in this way, she find it wanting and thus uses it as an argument for women priests: in other words, when she talks of the (current) Mass as 'an orgasmic celebration of homosexual love from which the female body is excluded' (from Protect the Pope) that is a critique of how the symbolism is currently working rather than an ideal: by allowing women priests, she thinks to stop the Mass being so describable.

I should confess at this point that it was reading Beattie's God's Mother. Eve's Advocate a few years ago that a) drew my attention to von Balthasar b) eventually helped me understand why the priesthood was restricted to men; and c) made me appreciate the importance of Mary. None of those results (with the exception of c)) would be ones that Beattie would applaud, but such is the nature of academic reflection: reflections on objections and attacks are a necessary stage in the achievement of knowledge.

So here's my quandary. How do you ensure that the laity (and indeed priest and bishops!) are not misled by academics in a world where the sort of control exercisable in the past isn't physically possible, and where it's not clear that any obvious alternatives (such as warnings from Bishops) work terribly well either? On the other hand, how do you allow that genuine fluidity and openness of debate that is an essential part of theology in the academy, without allowing an imperfect (and erroneous) stage in that debate to achieve currency among the enthusiastic but half educated (and I include myself in that category)?

I really don't have much of a one stop solution here. Bishops should be clearer about articulating orthodox positions. Individuals -academics, laity, priests, religious, everyone- should reflect more on their responsibilities not to teach or believe falsehoods and how to respect the Magisterium. Perhaps the ideal is the finding of scholastically minded geniuses: the scholastic method of reviewing alternative positions before articulating and defending the orthodox conclusion allows a review and understanding of the alternatives without compromising final truth.

(As a practical interim measure, I suggest the cloning and distribution of Matthew Levering to every diocese in the UK. He's solidly orthodox but also soaked in the exploration of complex theological meanings in the Mass. (See especially his Sacrifice and Community.))