Ineffable Gibbets

The American bishops are debating about translations again, fretting that Joe Average Catholic will be confused by dependent clauses and words like "wrought."

Perhaps I am biased here, because words are my thing. I have an undergraduate literature degree because I loved words and the ways they fit together. I distinctly remember using the word "ineffable," another of the proposed word choices criticized as inappropriately arcane, in a paper that I wrote when I was 18 (John Donne was the topic). In the ensuing 20 years, I have never once observed anyone panicking or shutting down in the face of the word "ineffable." I have never even observed any unhappy text-messaging in response: "Hlp 2 mny big wrds!"

The prayers of the Church already incorporate complex syntax. The first time I read the Angelus, it took me four or five tries to parse it. "Was made known by the message of an angel may by his Passion and Cross be brought"? I couldn't get those nouns and verbs to line up in a way that made sense to me. Do the bishops think we need to re-translate that as well?

I do not. I believe that people are wired to adapt to complex syntax. Every summer I read a Dickens novel (only three left!), and every summer I spend the first 60 pages thinking, "Oh, Mr. Dickens, your editor must have been sleeping at the switch. Was it necessary for that sentence to be a hundred words long?" Then my brain adjusts. Brains do that.

We are built for learning language. Whenever we listen to someone with an unfamiliar accent or an unfamiliar lexicon, we go through the same process: an initial "huh?" stage, a figuring-it-out stage, and eventually, an effortless stage. Some people do it with more ease than others, and some speakers (William F. Buckley, say) have an enduring ability to induce head-scratching in the listener. But it is preposterous -- an underestimation of God's design for the human brain -- to suggest that longer sentences in the liturgy would be a lasting impediment to comprehension.

When I was a new convert, reluctant to switch from my beloved NIV Bible to the NAB, one of the things that persuaded me to make the move was the language of the NAB. I remember Hebrews 1 pulling me up short: Jesus as the refulgence of the Father's glory still makes my heart sing. The Bible is full of unfamiliar words -- hyrax and chrysoprase and propitiatory (as a noun). Should we all switch over to The Message so we don't get confused? (Song of Songs: the daughters of Jerusalem say, "That dude's so into you!") One bishop objected explicitly to the word "gibbet," saying he hadn't heard it since 1949. But it features prominently in the NAB version of Esther -- surely he has read Esther in the past 60 years.

I am, for the record, enthusiastic about the phrase "the gibbet of the Cross." I think we have lost sight of the shame of crucifixion, of what an improbable instrument of redemption a cross really was. "Gibbet" offers exactly that connotation. It's not so hard to teach people what "gibbet" means.

I hesitated to write this post because it could sound elitist, but I think there may be more elitism in some of the bishops' comments. People can learn new words; they do it all the time. They do not usually throw up their hands and say, "Well, I guess I'm too stupid for this." I would argue, too, that one purpose of liturgy is stretch those who are listening -- to deepen their understanding of God and not merely to spoon-feed them the familiar. More cynically, I have to wonder if the bishops are overestimating the attentiveness of many of us in the pews. I include myself among the distracted -- I cannot count subordinate clauses while dealing with wiggly children.

This got longer than I thought it would (good thing I'm not trying to write for the bishops, since long is apparently bad in their view), but here's one last thought: when the Holy Spirit inspired St. John to describe the eternal nature of Christ, the result was "In the beginning was the Word." Christ the Word brings truth to us; we are designed to receive it, to share it. We were created to learn about the ineffable -- whether or not we know how to spell it.

Comments

[amy]

I teach various English courses at a community college, and every so often I teach the developmental reading and writing courses. (The courses are tough - 6 credit hours total, requiring reading and writing work.) Every semester, I have a student (sometimes two) who says, "I'm too stupid for this!" Most of the time s/he says it by simply disappearing, and some of the time s/he says it out loud in despair and then sticks around long enough to fail the course, sometimes simply by believing it deeply enough.

That said, I don't think simplifying the language of any piece is a wise move. Instead, shouldn't the work of teaching others to read the Bible belong to the teachers in the community (in this case, church leaders, elders, Bible study teachers, good/avid Bible readers, and so on)? If the work of the Church is to welcome others in and help them grow as Christians, that is the perfect place for a challenging read - not to scare them off, but as an opportunity for community building.

Plus, words are powerful. Why strip that power away?

I should shut my trap now, because it is not my place to criticize what the Church does. I was raised Lutheran, but I've left it behind, so I have no authority here. Still, I grow uncomfortable at the thought of yet another group of humans interjecting, "No, no, no, wait. What God *meant* to say here was...." As much an advocate of writing process and revision as I am, I just can't get excited about it in this regard.

[Sarah in Ottawa]

The written word -- my own, at least -- is not my thing. I am a scientist by training and an extrovert, so I struggle to coherently convey my thoughts in writing. But I have specifically gone through your archives because I remembered you writing this post and I wanted to re-read it. So I'd like to say thank you for clearly articulating my frustration with some of the current translations used (especially the NSRV).

I am a fan of challenging, lyrical translations, though, and wonder if the NAB would be your recommendation for a new bible for personal use? My Dad is a big fan of it and the New Jerusalem, but I thought I'd ask you, too.