The Word Made Flesh
In the beginning was
the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God The same was in the beginning with God. All things were made by him: and without him
was made nothing that was made. In him
was life, and the life was the light of men. And the light shineth in darkness,
and the darkness did not comprehend it.
There was a man sent
from God, whose name was John. This man
came for a witness, to give testimony of the light, that all men might believe
through him. He was not the light, but
was to give testimony of the light.
That was the true light, which enlighteneth every man that cometh into
this world. He was in the world, and the
world was made by him, and the world
knew him not.
He came unto his own,
and his own received him not. But as
many as received him, he gave them power to be made the sons of God, to them
that believe in his name. Who are born,
not of blood, nor of the will of the flesh, nor of the will of man, but of
God. And the Word was made flesh, and
dwelt among us, (and we saw his glory, the
glory as it were of the only begotten of the Father,) full of grace and
truth. (Jn 1:1-14)
St. Jerome Visited by Angels by Bartolomeo Cavarozzi |
On those
occasions when I have been granted the privilege of teaching a religion course
in the High
Loosening Up the Meaning
I
couldn’t help but reflect on these things as I read the Anthony Esolen article
that was the subject of yesterday’s post (here).
He starts out saying:
I recently read Pope
Paul VI’s encyclical Humanae Vitae the way it was principally meant to be read:
in Latin. There’s something
illuminating, I find, about reading in the original a work that is familiar to
you in translation. It becomes
unfamiliar. You can’t catch the gist of
a clause unless you pay unusually close attention to the words. You can’t dismiss something before you have
quite determined what that something is.
I had been
thinking of writing about just this idea myself, because I apply the same
principle in many of my posts dealing with Holy Scripture (see here and here), where looking at a word or words in the original
Greek, and maybe the way it was translated into Latin just a few centuries
later, is not so much a matter of “linguistic analysis” as it is simply a way
of loosening up the meaning for me after the English translations have become
so familiar that they have calcified, and no longer sink in.
It’s also
true that having to work through a language like Latin or Greek, where the
syntax follows different principles, forces you to examine the language much
more closely than if you were simply reading it in English. Some of my students know this first hand. A
few years ago I was searching through the encyclicals of John Paul II looking
for some “modern Latin” for a third year Latin class. One day I heard some of the students in the
class teasing one of their classmates because he had visited a store called “Condom
Sense” (yes, it is what it sounds like).
“Of course!” I thought, “Humanae Vitae!” Which we did, in the original language. Those students knew Pope Paul’s teaching
inside and out (which is not to say that they were pleased to know it).
'When I use
a word,' Humpty Dumpty said, in rather a scornful tone, 'it means just what I
choose it to mean — neither more nor less.'
Another
problem with translations is that invariably many of the connotations and
possible meanings of the original language will be lost. This is always the case, but even more so in
the latter half of the twentieth century, when an approach called “dynamic equivalence”
was popular among translators, in which the translator would render what he
thought the text meant, as opposed to what it actually said. The result was “translations” that were
really interpretations, with much of the concrete and vivid imagery flattened
or erased, and thus the distinctness, and sense of embodiment. Think of the recently replaced translation of
the Mass: “Lord, I am not worthy to receive you . . .” as opposed to “Lord, I
am not worthy that you should enter under my roof . . .” The so-called
“dynamic” version is abstract and remote, the new more literal translation is
something you can visualize, besides retaining a clear connection to the
Biblical source (the Roman centurion with a sick servant in Matthew 8:8).
So, you might be saying, "I don’t know Latin or Greek: where does that leave me?" Well, it’s never too late to start learning, but in any case there are things you can do in reading Scripture, for instance, that can help you achieve some of the same result. You can read the Bible with a good Catholic commentary, for instance. It can also be helpful to compare different translations. I would advise sticking to approved Catholic translations. I would also make a point of including the Douay-Rheims version, which for a long time was the Catholic Bible in English; it is from the same era as the King James ( a few decades earlier, in fact), and makes a point of sticking much closer to the original text than has been the fashion in recent years (the passage from John's Gospel at the beginning of the post is from this translation). Working with the language in this way can help to free it from the choices of a particular translator.
So, you might be saying, "I don’t know Latin or Greek: where does that leave me?" Well, it’s never too late to start learning, but in any case there are things you can do in reading Scripture, for instance, that can help you achieve some of the same result. You can read the Bible with a good Catholic commentary, for instance. It can also be helpful to compare different translations. I would advise sticking to approved Catholic translations. I would also make a point of including the Douay-Rheims version, which for a long time was the Catholic Bible in English; it is from the same era as the King James ( a few decades earlier, in fact), and makes a point of sticking much closer to the original text than has been the fashion in recent years (the passage from John's Gospel at the beginning of the post is from this translation). Working with the language in this way can help to free it from the choices of a particular translator.
They Are There For A Reason
Here’s my
final point: God speaks to us through his creation, including the words of Holy
Scripture written by men under inspiration of the Holy Spirit. The words of those Scriptures are themselves
filled with all manner of vivid concrete images and events. They are there for a reason. The more tangible we can make them, the
better we will understand.
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