Organizational cheerleading

The Roman Catholic Church in the United States is now in the third week of using the new translation of the Roman Missal. In Australia, they started using it earlier so I was able to practice the new responses when I visited Down Under in November. Many people had called for a new missal to correct some of the former translation's deficiencies, but along the way someone in the Vatican decided that the translators could no longer use the tried and true "dynamic equivalence" style of translation, but had to adhere to a slavishly literal translation of the Latin original. Thus "Et cum spiritu tuo", which the old missal translated as "And also with you", is now "And with your spirit". Even Fr. Reginald Foster, formerly the Vatican's chief Latinist, was somewhat annoyed by the literalness of the new translation.

Somewhat off topic, but I am old enough to have attended Mass when it was still said in Latin. I remember hearing "Et cum spiritu tuo" and thinking that it must have been God's phone number. Now back to the topic at hand.

I am not a huge fan of the new translation, but as a part of the organization, I feel I need to defend, or at least not detract, publicly from the organization's decisions. So I have developed the following set of responses to use when people ask me what I think of the new translation:

1. It's Latin-icious!
2. It's not nearly as bad as I thought it would be.
3. I only notice the difference when I am paying attention, which is not often.
4. It's better than nothing.
5. If you don't like it, join the Episcopalians. And take your spirit with you.
6. Whatever.

Ponte fixed maximus!

In what has become a staple of my Sunday mornings in Rome, I bicycled northward along the Tiber River last Sunday. When I reached the ill-fated bridge over the ravine, what did my wondrous eyes perceive but that the bridge had been repaired, a little less than a month after it was damaged. In Roman terms, that is the blink of an eye. Mira culo!, as we would say. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the freshly repaired bridge.

Most Sundays, my goal is to reach the Ponte Castel Giubileo, which is almost exactly 18 km from the monastery. It isn't easy to see in this photograph, but there is covered bicycle path on the side of this bridge that shelters riders from the elements while giving them a wonderful view of the river valley. While it is true that there are many cities in the world that have a much better infrastructure for bicyclists, it isn't as if Rome has done nothing for us.

Tales of a city priest

So this couple comes to see one of our brothers, the pastor of a large, city parish in southern Brazil, and asks to have a Medieval-style wedding. What could possibly be wrong with that, he thinks. Then comes the day of the wedding — everyone, from the wedding party to the guests, shows up wearing Shrek costumes! There was even someone dressed as a donkey (unfortunately, it was not Eddie Murphy).

To make matters worse, a journalist from the local newspaper was on hand to cover the wedding, which was given coverage, including photographs, in the following day's edition. That resulted in the priest receiving a rather unpleasant call from the bishop.

I get the bishop's point about movie-themed weddings in church. Today you allow Shrek, and tomorrow it's Planet of the Apes. On the face of it, however, if the newspaper had not reported that this was a Shrek-themed wedding, it is possible that no one would have given a second thought about the choice of attire. Have you seen some of the outlandish things people wear to their weddings these days?! In fact, this wedding party is dressed quite modestly, although their color coordination is somewhat lacking.

All in all, it could have been worse:

Mourning becomes BroLo

I was in a god-forsaken corner of the world on July 4th so I missed the news about Otto von Hapsburg's death. Just because we Americans threw off the shackles of monarchy (and replaced them with the shackles of the masses) doesn't mean that I am insensitive to these things. As a full-blooded Austrian, I had great respect for Otto ... even though I heard about him for the first time today.

There is a traditional ritual used when burying a member of the Hapsburg family in the Imperial Crypt in Vienna (if you can read German, you can read the transcript here). Maybe it is due to the last, dying remnants of the hippy in me—I'm always happy to see "the man" taken down a notch or two— but I really like this ceremony. It somehow feels right that the playing field should get re-leveled before the Final Judgment. None of our titles or accomplishments matter; we all stand before our Maker denuded of everything except who we really are.

Come to think of it, I'm not sure I find that very comforting.

Bicycling in Rome II

In an earlier post about bicycling in Rome, I mentioned that a bridge along the Tiber River bike path had been inexplicably closed for four years. It finally opened last March after the Inspector for Aged Oak in the Wooden Plank Committee of the Bridge Inspection Office of the Parks and Recreation Department certified its safety after deciding that he was too tired to go all the way to Tor di Quinto to look at a stupid bridge. As far as I can tell, the only change they made was to paint the railings. I have used that bridge for the last three Sundays while bicycling from the monastery to the Ponte Castel Giubileo and back—about 36 km altogether. It's wonderful! And on Sunday mornings in August, most Italians are on holidays or still in bed so it is relatively free of obstacles. Okay, I know it is sad to think about other people as obstacles, but many Italians on the bike path are out for a leisurely, social experience, while I am there for exercise. Riding a bicycle on Sunday afternoons provides me with many, many opportunities to practice patience and self-restraint!

This morning when I came to the famous bridge it was again barricaded (incompetently, however, so it was easy to by-pass). Some genius had decided to set fire to the grass underneath the bridge, which then spread to the wooden planks covering it. Yeah, wood is flammable Einstein! Based on past experience, I'd guess it will take only ten years to get the ruined planks replaced.

At this point, you are probably asking yourself, "Why doesn't the big whiner just go the other direction on the Tiber River bike path?" Well, I tried that two weeks ago, but that path is blocked by the booths for a summer festival. There are two banks for every river; why do they have to set up the booths on the side that has the bike path when the other side of the river equally suitable? Sigh.