Clapping at Mass and the Value of Silence

St. Paul tells us to pray constantly (1 Thessalonians 5:17). One way to do that is by actually praying with our words. Another way is to always be thinking about God in our works of mercy, as well as through our charitable words to others. Our entire life can be a prayer if we put God first in everything we do and always keep his will in mind. But Mass is different than the rest of life. It is not a way of praying to God by proxy. Mass is among the very few times in life when we do not have to encounter God through others, because God is right there with us. Remember what Jesus said to Martha when she was doing all the work while Mary was just sitting there with Jesus. He said: “Martha, Martha, you are anxious and troubled about many things; one thing is needful. Mary has chosen the good portion, which shall not be taken away from her” (Luke 10:41-42). Mass is the “one thing”. It is the “good portion”. There is no need for applause or accolades for others, no need to tend to earthly matters when we are in the presence of the Lord. Understandably, it is hard to remember this when we are surrounded by others, but Mass is not about us. Bringing attention back down to ourselves is adverse to the nature of the Mass. This is why popes have strong words about the matter: “Wherever applause breaks out in the liturgy because of some human achievement, it is a sure sign that the essence of liturgy has totally disappeared and been replaced by a kind of religious entertainment. Such attraction fades quickly – it cannot compete in the market of leisure pursuits, incorporating as it increasingly does various forms of religious titillation” (Pope Benedict XVI, The Spirit of the Liturgy). Here’s what Pope St. John XXIII said on the matter: “If I must express a wish, it is that in church you not shout out, that you not clap your hands, and that you not greet even the Pope, because ‘templum Dei, templum Dei’ (‘The temple of God is the temple of God’).” What’s the Big Deal? But what’s the big deal, after all? Shouldn’t we be allowed to express our gratitude and admiration for fellow believers praising God with their talents? And aren’t we, by applauding them, indirectly applauding God, the giver of talents, as well? Correct, we are indirectly praising God when we clap for someone else in church, when we should be directly praising him. Applauding during Mass is like showing honor to a fellow guest at a wedding reception during the bride and groom’s first dance. Some people may say an atmosphere that discourages clapping in Mass only breeds a false sense of piety, but what is truly false is the notion that true piety begins with us rather than God. Clapping is a way of praising another, whether we admit it or not, and praising another human being in the place where God ought to be praised is at best an attempt to make humans a way to God, and is at worst idolatry. We do not need a way to God because God has come down to us. A church sanctuary is the place where a person can best draw closer to God, and it is a person’s relationship with God that always ought to be first and foremost in their spiritual life and in all aspects of life. As Pat Archbold said in a NC Register article on this same issue, we will reap the benefits of deeper holiness if we “remove the anthropocentric mentality that has destroyed worship.” Mass Is Where Heaven and Earth Meet I'm not saying we shouldn't show any form of gratitude for the choir, the homilist, altar servers, or anyone else who assists in Mass. But why does it have to be during Mass, the source and summit of our faith? Writing for U.S. Catholic, David Phippart had some good alternatives: "We'd do better to create a climate of gratitude with occasional bulletin kudos, surprise refreshments at rehearsals now and then, an annual appreciation dinner, and the like," he wrote. It is true that in some cultures and subcultures, clapping is appropriate as a celebration, as it reflects the psalmist’s words: “All you peoples, clap your hands; shout to God with joyful cries.”–Psalm 41:7 However, the psalmist is speaking of applause directed toward God as a form of praise. We must remember Mass is a vertical form of worship, and by clapping or cheering for anyone except God we make it horizontal. We make it about us, not him. You may say “Aren’t all forms of worship vertical?” Actually, no, because we also worship God through good works toward others, as we see Christ in them, and this is horizontal worship. Good works and works of mercy, are the crossbeam of the Cross, where God is reaching out to humanity through his Body, the Church. But Mass is not the same as this. It is God’s condescension down to us, where heaven meets earth, where the head of the Cross (Christ) meets the foot of the Cross (believers). For many of us, let’s be honest, Mass is the only time we are truly focusing on our faith and intentionally living it. So we naturally try to cram all aspects of it into that one hour. We awkwardly try to be cordial and charitable toward the people sitting next to us, and friendly--as we know how--to the volunteers who have devoted their time to the music ministry or whatever else. There are times and places for these acts of bonding. This is why parishes encourage participation in after-Mass activities and other events throughout the church community throughout the week. But Mass is a person’s time to worship God, so he or she may properly receive him. That purpose is enough. Clapping during or after Mass not only encourages praise of others over God, it also discourages an atmosphere of prayer to God. You may say applause are over quickly and therefore are not that distracting, but in this age when dozens of thoughts are vying for our attention, those several seconds can in fact derail our focus. We come to Mass for a brief opportunity to be with God without distractions. The errands we have to run, the relationships that are on our minds, even the game we may want to watch later that day, are all trying to pull us away from God. Mass may be a person’s rare opportunity to be one-on-one with God in prayer. Why would someone want to intrude upon that? When it comes to staying focused--on anything, but especially while praying--nothing helps like silence. The Rule of St. Benedict put a high value on silence, giving a whole chapter to the subject in the work. When it comes to serving our neighbor, nothing helps like separating ourselves from them for a short time to take a moment to pray in silence--so we can rightly orient ourselves to God and thereby better serve others. Jesus did as much. He left the crowds, and even his disciples, quite often to go pray alone. He did this because in his human nature he knew that no relationship he had on earth could be right until his relationship with the Father was right. We would do well to keep that in mind, because our relationship with God is the “one thing” that matters.

Problems with Psalm 142 NAB Translation, (and new translations of the Bible in general)

I was praying morning prayer with my family and we came across Psalm 142, the New American Bible translation. The wording didn’t strike me as too moving, and my wife pointed out that a different translation of the same psalm, the translation she was familiar with, Psalm 141 from the Douay-Rheims had a much greater effect on her heart. It is common for various potent truths to be lost in new translations of the Bible, and this particular psalm demonstrates that issue as good as any Bible passage. While the Douay-Rheims says “In his sight I pour out my prayer” in this psalm, the NAB says, “I pour out my complaint before Him.” While the older translation says, “When my spirit failed me, then thou knewest my paths”, the NAB states, “When my spirit was overwhelmed within me, You knew my path.” While the Douay-Rheims says, “the just wait for me, until thou reward me,” the NAB version is, “The righteous will surround me, For You will deal bountifully with me.” I don’t know about you, but something about the word choice in the Douay-Rheims just rings more true to me, and I don’t think it’s just a matter of preference. The change in wording affects the whole angle that the psalm originally took, and may hinder the psalmist’s original message. In the changes above, the focus in the Douay-Rheims is on God’s grace and sustenance rather than the psalmist’s state. The old version uses the word “prayer” instead of “complaint”, and “reward” instead of “bountifully”, and in doing so the Douay-Rheims version more adequately addresses the way prayer works. It’s about God. It’s about how he answers our cry, not about us crying out to him and how gracefully he responds to us. The formula is simple and not human-centered, but God-centered. We offer our petition to him, and he answers. It’s that simple. Changing the wording from “my spirit failed me” to “my spirit was overwhelmed” presents another problem. This new wording does not address the fact that I am the problem and I need God to redeem my fallen state. If I am simply saying I am overwhelmed; I am not acknowledging the fact that I have failed and need a savior. Being overwhelmed connotes that I was deeply afflicted by a problem outside myself, and it doesn’t point to the real problem, which is that my spirit is inadequate and needs God’s grace. The way the NAB version reads is anthropocentric: “I complained” and the Lord responded “bountifully” to me. While the word “bountifully” may seem innocuous, it corrupts the psalmic formula, because it’s not about how bountifully the Lord responds. God is worthy of praise for the simple fact that he responds at all, and in fact the reward may not even be bountiful. The reward may be his response itself, or even further trial if only because the trial is God’s response. The Code of the Human Heart and Mind The human heart and mind are like computers and language is like code. If you change certain parts of the input you get a different outcome; if you make a mistake, even the slightest, the code doesn’t work — then the program doesn’t work. God wrote the code for our hearts, and the words he gave us in the Bible were designed to reach our hearts. Various modern translations have changed that code so much that it no longer has the effect it once did. It’s no wonder we are hardly moved when we hear Scripture read at Mass or read it ourselves. When we’re hardly moved, this causes us to easily get distracted. Something must have been lost in translation. Different Translations, Different Effects The logic behind the Church’s acceptable English translations of the Bible in the U.S. is that it’s better to translate Scripture from the original ancient Greek or Hebrew into English. The New American Bible is kind of a hodgepodge of translations, though. The New Testament is translated from the Greek, while the Old Testament is translated from Latin, except for Genesis which is translated from Hebrew. Perhaps such an eclectic approach best represents the diversity of Scripture and the Catholic Faith, but there is a problem with having anything other than translations from Latin. No matter how learned a scholar of ancient Greek may be, he never experienced the language spoken in its time. There is no legitimate bridge between ancient Greek and modern English, not even modern Greek suffices because no ancient Greek speaker ever spoke with any modern Greek speaker. Thus, Latin is in fact the more suitable language from which to translate Scripture, because Latin speakers were contemporaries of ancient Greek speakers. They lived in the same world, even partook in the same debates when it came to choosing dogmatic language. Furthermore, Latin speakers encountered vernacular languages like English in later centuries as well. Therefore, the earliest Latin translations, like the Latin Vulgate, provide a better bridge from the ancient Greek to modern English than that of modern scholars of ancient Greek; not only because Latin translators would have understood ancient Greek better, but also because early English translators would have understood Latin better than ancient Greek. The translators of the Douay-Rheims Bible, or the first Bible written in English, understood the importance of this succession, and therefore translated the Bible entirely from the Latin Vulgate. This is not hypothetical. The early Church understood the value of succession, the handing down of truths from one generation to the next. The fecundity of those truths could easily be lost from one generation to the next, from one language to the next. That is why it is imperative for each translation to take small leaps, if any are necessary at all. The Word of God is not a collection of cultural myths that just need to be passed on from generation to generation for the lessons it teaches, nor is it open to the latest lifestyle or vernacular language. If there are truths in the Bible that have been lost over time, we need to retrieve the lost truth and conform our lives to it to better understand it, not change what is in the Bible so it better relates to us. Whether we want to make the Bible more relatable to our modern lifestyle, or recover the original meaning of the text, we owe our ancestors our trust that they hold the key to understanding the book they handed down to us; no matter how much times change or how much time passes.