Saturday 19 August 2017

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

First reading
Isaiah 56: 1, 6-7

Syne sae quo' the Lord: Haud ay by the straught, an' do ay what's right; for my ain heal-haddin's nar till win on, an' my right-recht till win intil sight.

An' the sons o' the frem wha tak up wi' the Lord, till ser' him; an' wha like the Lord's name, till be loons o' his ain; a' siclike's min' the sabbath weel, an' tak haud o' my tryst sae leal: I sal e'en fesh them hame till my halie hill, an' fu' blythe they sal be in my houss o' prayer; their burnt-offrans a', an' the beiss they fell, sal be a' taen weel on my autar thar: for that houss o' my ain, for the ilk ane, sal be ca'd the Houss o' Prayer.

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

Responsorial Psalm
Psalm 66, 2-3, 5-6, 8.

GOD be gude till us; aye, an' be kind till us;
glint his face on us: Selah.
That yer gate may be kent on the yirth;
an' yer health amang a' the hethen.

Lat nieborly kins be blythe an' lilt:
for the folk ye sal right
i' the gate that 's straught;
an' the kins i' the lan', ye sal niebor them: Selah.

Lat the folk gie ye laud, O God;
lat the folk gie ye laud, the hail o' them.
God, he sal blythe-bid oursels ;
an' a' ends o' the yirth sal be fley'd o' him!

[From Psalm 67 in The Psalms: frae Hebrew intil Scottis by P. Hately Waddell (1891) here]

Second reading
Letter of St Paul to the Romans 11: 13-15, 29-32.

Bot I say to yow, hethinmen. For als lang as I am apostile of hethinmen, I sail honour my mynisterie, gif in ony maner I stere my flesch for to follow, and that I mak sum of thame saaf. For gif the lose of thame is the reconceling of the warld, quhat is the taking vp, bot lijf of deidmen?

And the giftis and the calling of God ar without forthinking.

And as sum tyme alsa ye beleuet nocht to God, bot now ye haue gettin mercy for the vnbeleue of thame; Sa and thir now beleue nocht into your mercy, that alsa thai get mercy. For God closit togiddir althingis in vnbeleue, that he haue mercy on alle.

[From The New Testament in Scots Murdoch Nisbet [c.1520] (1903) vol 2 here.]

Gospel reading
Matthew 15: 21-28

Then Jesus upt an left that place, an he went awa tae tha dïstrict roon Tyre an Sidon. An thïs Canaanite wumman frae thaim pairts cum tae hïm, cryin oot, "Loard, Sinn o Davit, hae peetie on me! Ma dochtèr ïs sufferin sumthin tarrible wi an ïll spïrit." Jesus niver saed a wurd. Sae hïs follaers cum tae hïm an plaidit wi hïm, "Senn hir awa, fer she's follaein iz an she'll no stap hir yellin oot." He saed bak, "A wus onlie sent tae tha loast sheep o tha Hoose o Israel." Tha wumman cum an got doon on hir knees afore hïm an she saed, "Loard, halp me!" "It ïsnae richt," saed he, "tae tak tha weans' breid an clod ït tae tha wee dugs." "Ay, Loard, that's richt," she saed, "but still wi aa, e'en tha wee dugs gits aitin tha crumbs that faa frae thair maïstèrs' boord!" Then Jesus saed bak tae hir, "Wumman, sitch an a faith ye hae! Ye'll het whut ye axt fer." An hir dochtèr got bettèr that verie oor.

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

No comments:

Post a Comment