Like A Prayer

6/19/2006


In one of the New York daily tabloids last Friday, wedged between articles about Britney Spears and the latest crime victim, was this little story accredited to the associated press. I copied it verbatim.

New translation’s Mass appeal


LOS ANGELES – The nation’s Catholic bishops signed off yesterday on a new English translation for the Mass that would change prayers ingrained in the memories of millions of American parishioners.
The U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops voted at its biannual meeting for a new translation after a brief but vigorous debate over several small changes in wording. The 173-to-29 vote on the Order of the Mass was aimed at satisfying Vatican calls for a translation that’s closer to the Latin version.
Before Mass changes at the parish level, the Americans’ version must go to offices in the Holy See for final approval.
“Without a doubt, this is the most significant liturgical action to come before this body for many years,” said Bishop Donald Trautman, chairman of the conference’s Committee on Liturgy.
Here are some of the changes approved yesterday:
1) The exchanges between priest and parishioners that now go “The Lord be with you”/”And also with you” would become “The Lord be with you”/”And with your spirit.”
2) The Act of Penitence, in which parishioners now confess aloud that they have sinned “through my own fault” would include the lines “through my fault, through my most grievous fault.”
3) In the Nicene Creed, the opening words “We believe” would become “I believe.”
4) Before Communion, the prayer “Lord, I am not worthy to receive you” would become “Lord, I am not worthy that you should enter under my roof.”

In contemplating this information, I was reminded of the time I was with somebody who was a born-again Christian. We were returning from...wherever...and it was very late. In fact, we were so late that we were just in time to see the Sunrise. The emerging Sun created a bright red horizon whose emanations filled the sky. Like paint on a canvas, orange hues permeated the sky, becoming more and more rust-like the further away from the core that they were. The darkened clouds drifting by in a seemingly endless pattern were the perfect punctuation points to this eerily beautiful snapshot of the daily cosmic ballet.

We stopped and stared for a minute for even in the industrial wasteland corner of Brooklyn that we called our home, the sight was awe-inspiring.

At that point, my friend turned to me and said,

I can’t believe that you could look at THAT and tell me there is NOTHING.

To which, I responded,

On the contrary, I can’t look at THAT and reduce it to a parable.

Now remember... don't say the word Fuck.

I'm so tired...
So very tired.
Larry