Still Bucking the New Translation - Really??

Thanks to Dr. Jerry Galipeau's excellent blog, Gotta Sing, Gotta Pray, I actually have a "keep it simple" topic  for today;)  Due to all the uproar about the New Translation, and also due to my continuing efforts to be a passable music director for my parishes, I try to follow Dr. Jerry's blog.  He has been involved with publishing liturgical music for years, and his posts are usually informative and entertaining.  For several months now, he has been posting on issues with the New Translation of the Roman Missal, on Tuesdays and Thursdays.  I take a look every once in awhile.  The New Translation was mandated for use beginning in Advent of last year.  Six months later, people are still arguing its pros and cons.  Personally, though I like the New Translation, it would really make no difference to me if we went back to the old.

Okay, so I'm an oddball.  Part of me is traditional.  I wear the chapel veil.  I think the music for Mass should be dignified hymns or soft, inspirational melodies and chant, not "praise and worship, rock my world" stuff.  I prefer the tabernacle to be behind the altar, and the church to be dark and quiet, respectful, prayerful.  So I don't always get my way.  I like to hear Mass in my primary language, but I want to share the joy with my friends who don't speak or understand English so well, so I embrace the bi-lingual Mass, and can even muddle through a bit of Spanish.  Luckily I can play the flute and the organ in both Spanish and English. (yeah, some dumb humor;)  As a returned-fallen-away Catholic, I'm there for Mass.  Mass is the sacrifice of Jesus Body and Blood for my salvation.  Holy Communion is the common union with my fellow Mass-goers, and by extension the whole church, and hopefully one day the whole world, as the Body of Christ.

I go to Mass to hear the Word of God proclaimed and taught.  I want to learn how to be a better person.  I go to Mass to receive Holy Communion, Jesus entering into union with me to strengthen and transform me.  To remind me of my connection with that guy over there whose manners I find repulsive (hmm...is pride any better?).  And the lady whose dress is too short and too low cut (didn't I used to dress like that myself?)  And the family who only shows up on Palm Sunday (there were a few years when I didn't show up at all).  I don't go to bicker over this word here or that word there.  I'll let the pope and the cardinals and the bishops and their committees worry about all that stuff.  Life is too complicated.  For this simple-minded Catholic, I'll take Dr. Jerry's advice - gotta sing, gotta pray.  Nuff said.