What Does The Prayer Really Say?
W D T P R S

I posted today the usual WDTPRS offerings. One of them had something extensive on Pontius and Hippolytus (and Cassian) which I will reproduce here for your convenience (slightly edited):

Today is the commemoration of Sts. Hippolytus and Cassianus (or Cassian), martyrs (13 August). “But, Father! Wait!”, you are sure to being saying. In the 1970MR on 13 August we find the feast of Sts. Hippolytus, priest and Pontianus, Pope, martyrs, not Cassian at all! In the 2004 Martyrologium Romanum (MartRom – p. 449) we find not only the listing for Hippolytus with Pontianus (or Pontian) but also, by himself, Cassian. Since Cassian and Hippolytus had nothing whatsoever to do with each other, after the reform of the liturgy Hippolytus was logically put together with Pontianus on the same feast. There are actually quite a few ancient saints by name of Hippolytus and there is a lot of confusion about which is which. This one is certainly a Hippolytus of Rome and not the prolific writer of the same name who, according in P. Nautin’s article in the Encyclopedia of the Early Church (vol. I, pp. 383-4), was a bishop in Palestine who died after A.D. 240.

The third century was a turbulent time for Christians in Rome. Not only were there persecutions from without, there were also theological controversies within the Church about the nature(s) and divinity of Christ and His relationship with the Father. Hippolytus, who wrote in Greek, was a pivotal figure in the early Roman Church. Among other things, he championed a position against Modalism, which idea was that the Persons of the Trinity were merely three modes or manifestations of one God without being individual Persons. Hippolytus forwarded the idea that Christ the Logos was so separate from the Father, though subordinate to Him, that Christ virtually was another God (Ditheism). Pope Zephyrinus would not make a firm statement one way or another and Hippolytus condemned him as the weak puppet of the powerful deacon Callistus. Zephyrinus in 217 or 218 exits the stage and Callistus was elected to the See of Peter. Hippolytus then got himself elected “pope” by his followers. A terrible rigorist, he forthwith accused Callistus of various heresies and laxity in ecclesiastical discipline. He was thus antipope during the reigns of Callistus I, Urban I (222-230) and our man Pontianus (230–235) who according to legend is sometimes credited (more than likely erroneously) with introducing the liturgical greeting and response and hitherto translation bugbear of liturgists “Dominus vobiscum… Et cum spiritu tuo.”

During the persecution by Maximinus Thrax in 235, Pope Pontianus and the priest/antipope Hippolytus were condemned ad metalla (“to the mines”) and banished to Sardinia, called an unhealthy island (insula nociva). Pontianus probably renounced his office on 28 September, according to ancient sources. So, Pope Celestine V (5 July 1294 (crowned 29 August) – 13 December 1294 and died 19 May 1296) was not be the only Pope in history to have resigned. Perhaps together in the terrible mines of Sardinia or en route, Hippolytus and Pontianus were reconciled before they died. Pope Fabian (236-250) had their bodies brought back to Rome. They are feasted on the same day probably because in the IV c. document concerning the interment of martyrs, the Depositio Martyrum, we read "Idus Aug. Ypoliti in Tiburtina et Pontiani in Callisti”. In August the Ides are on the 13th day. Pontianus was buried in the papal section of the catacomb of Callistus and Hippolytus on the Via Tiburtina. The fact that they were both so venerated by the Romans is held as a proof that they were reconciled with each other.

Cassian, on the other hand, according to the hymn of Prudentius (cf. Peristephanon, Hymn IX), was a teacher at Forum Cornelii (named after the dictator L. Cornelius Sulla – modern Imola). He was handed over (c. 300 according to 2001 MartRom) to his pupils who tortured him to death using their writing styluses (traditus est calamis ad mortem torquendus), made of iron, reeds or other pointy hard materials with which they would draw on wax tablets, etc. The MartRom adds a note that Cassian was given to his students to be killed because, “the weaker the hand, the more painful was the sentence of martyrdom.” Today, students torture their teachers to death with PDA styluses, laptop computers and MP3 players, not to mention execrable English – but I digress.

The Archbishop of York, John Sentamu, smiles after having his head shaved as part of his Sunday service at York Minster cathedral in York, northern England August 13, 2006. (Nigel Roddis/Reuters)

Wait… this is a Reuters photo. Do you think they photoshoped his head and pitched the tent in the background??

What Does the Prayer Really Say? 19th Sunday of Ordinary Time

ORIGINALLY PRINTED IN The Wanderer in 2003

Some feedback is coming in about the possibility of having a Roman WDTPRS pilgrimage of which I spoke last week. HE of TN writes already: “Please sign me up for the first group, the sooner the better. Just set a date, state the price, and I’ll forward my personal check.” And so it begins. This same correspondent must also have be a ghost writer for the old Roman Breviary, since he sounds rather like one of the old Second Nocturnes regarding my column of last week: “As a longtime Wanderer subscriber, let me take this opportunity to remark that [the] WDTPRS column is surely the finest weekly column in all of Catholic periodical literature (which thanks to the Internet I can survey widely, though I am glad and happiest to read The Wanderer the old-fashioned way).” I suspect that not everyone, myself included, is ready to agree with you on that, but I am grateful all the same. Should I ask for a raise, TN?

POST COMMUNIONEM
LATIN (2002 Missale Romanum):
Sacramentorum tuorum, Domine,
communio sumpta nos salvet,
et in tuae veritatis luce confirmet.

This prayer is in the 1962MR as the Postcommunio of the commemoration of Sts. Hippolytus and Cassianus (or Cassian), martyrs (13 August). “But, Wait!”, you are sure to being saying. In the 1970MR on 13 August we find the feast of Sts. Hippolytus, priest and Pontianus, Pope, martyrs, not Cassian at all! In the 2001 Martyrologium Romanum (MartRom – p. 426) we find not only the listing for Hippolytus with Pontianus (or Pontian) but also, by himself, Cassian. Since Cassian and Hippolytus had nothing whatsoever to do with each other, after the reform of the liturgy Hippolytus was logically put together with Pontianus on the same feast. There are actually quite a few ancient saints by name of Hippolytus and there is a lot of confusion about which is which. This one is certainly a Hippolytus of Rome and not the prolific writer of the same name who, according in P. Nautin’s article in the Encyclopedia of the Early Church (vol. I, pp. 383-4), was a bishop in Palestine who died after A.D. 240.

The third century was a turbulent time for Christians in Rome. Not only were there persecutions from without, there were also theological controversies within the Church about the nature(s) and divinity of Christ and His relationship with the Father. Hippolytus, who wrote in Greek, was a pivotal figure in the early Roman Church. Among other things, he championed a position against Modalism, which idea was that the Persons of the Trinity were merely three modes or manifestations of one God without being individual Persons. Hippolytus forwarded the idea that Christ the Logos was so separate from the Father, though subordinate to Him, that Christ virtually was another God (Ditheism). Pope Zephyrinus would not make a firm statement one way or another and Hippolytus condemned him as the weak puppet of the powerful deacon Callistus. Zephyrinus in 217 or 218 exits the stage and Callistus was elected to the See of Peter. Hippolytus then got himself elected “pope” by his followers. A terrible rigorist, he forthwith accused Callistus of various heresies and laxity in ecclesiastical discipline. He was thus antipope during the reigns of Callistus I, Urban I (222-230) and our man Pontianus (230–235) who according to legend is sometimes credited (more than likely erroneously) with introducing the liturgical greeting and response and hitherto translation bugbear of liturgists “Dominus vobiscum… Et cum spiritu tuo.”

During the persecution by Maximinus Thrax in 235, Pope Pontianus and the priest/antipope Hippolytus were condemned ad metalla (“to the mines”) and banished to Sardinia, called an unhealthy island (insula nociva). Pontianus probably renounced his office on 28 September, according to ancient sources. So, Pope Celestine V (5 July 1294 (crowned 29 August) – 13 December 1294 and died 19 May 1296) may not be the only Pope in history to have resigned. Perhaps together in the terrible mines of Sardinia or en route, Hippolytus and Pontianus were reconciled before they died. Pope Fabian (236-250) had their bodies brought back to Rome. They are feasted on the same day probably because in the IV c. document concerning the interment of martyrs, the Depositio Martyrum, we read "Idus Aug. Ypoliti in Tiburtina et Pontiani in Callisti”. In August the Ides are on the 13th day. Pontianus was buried in the papal section of the catacomb of Callistus and Hippolytus on the Via Tiburtina. The fact that they were both so venerated by the Romans is held as a proof that they were reconciled with each other.

Cassian, on the other hand, according to the hymn of Prudentius (cf. Peristephanon, Hymn IX), was a teacher at Forum Cornelii (named after the dictator L. Cornelius Sulla – modern Imola). He was handed over (c. 300 according to 2001 MartRom) to his pupils who tortured him to death using their writing styluses (traditus est calamis ad mortem torquendus), made of iron, reeds or other pointy hard materials with which they would draw on wax tablets, etc. The MartRom adds a note that Cassian was given to his students to be killed because, “the weaker the hand, the more painful was the sentence of martyrdom.” Today, students torture their teachers to death with PDA styluses, laptop computers and MP3 players, not to mention execrable English – but I digress.

Let us now explore the prayer and investigate, if we can, what it really says. That formidable lexical aid the Lewis & Short Dictionary provides different entries for communio. In one sense of the word, communio, (deriving from moenia “defense walls” and munio “to wall, fortify”) means originally “to fortify on all sides or strongly, to secure, barricade, entrench”. The other entry, deriving from communis (“common”) means “a communion, mutual participation”. This use of communio is found in Cicero’s writings, but it is otherwise rather rare.

Latin communio was used to translate Greek koinonía. There is not a perfect equivalence here, which must not surprise us, given the inherent difficulties in translating liturgical terms and texts even today. The word in the common Greek used widely in the ancient world, used in the New Testament (koiné Greek), means “that which is common” in the sense of the link or common element that binds together a community (cf. 2 Cor 13:13; 1 John 1:3). By extension it signifies a disinterested spirit of sharing (cf. 2 Cor 9: 13) and then the outward sign or proof of that interior reality in the form of contributions to the common good and fellowship (cf. Acts 2:42). Then it is also the act of participation in a collection or in the “common good” which is the Body and Blood of the Lord (cf. 1 Cor 10:16). So, by the time of the fourth century writer, koinonía / communio was the participation in the outward sign of the commonly held interior reality of the Eucharist. The Latin writers used it especially in the sense of acts of association and sharing and being in common. It was also the state of being in union with the Church in such a way that one is able to partake of the Eucharist in the Church, after initial preparation, conversion and also reconciliation. As a result, communio stands both for the Eucharistic species and the act of receiving them and also being in doctrinal and disciplinary harmony with the Church which provides the Eucharist and is formed by the Eucharist and a bond of charity.

An important thing to remember in this, and this is essential for authentic ecumenism, is that the Church provides Communion and Communion provides the Church. Without the Eucharist there can be no Church. Without the Church there can be no Eucharist. The Eucharist is both a concrete and outward sign of the invisibly reality made concrete in the Church’s members and it is also the constitutive reality underpinning the Church’s existence. At the heart of this two-fold dimension of the Eucharist, as both a result of the Church and the cause of the Church, is the underlying concept of unity, partaking of something – rather Someone – in common, Jesus Christ who is the living Bread from heaven. So, for ecumenical endeavors, there must always be adequate unity in doctrine and discipline with the Church He founded and entrusted with (and to) the Eucharist before there can be admission of all parties to partake of the Eucharistic species in Holy Communion. Reception of Holy Communion is the result of unity in doctrine and discipline as well as the cause of unity. However, unity in doctrine and discipline must be prior to the outward sign of unity which is reception of Holy Communion. No unity in the sense of ecclesial membership which is founded on unity of faith and action… no common reception of Communion. In some ecumenical circles this critical element is forgotten. Well-meaning, soft-hearted priests eager (properly so) to be welcoming and “nice” and bring people together will sometimes admit to reception of Holy Communion people who do not share a unity of faith. Their well-meaning (albeit shallow) thinking is that reception Communion simply causes communion almost as if the simple act of inter-Communion will cause, as if by magic, the unity so desired. This cannot be. Ironically, this magical and also theurgical approach to the act of Communion is held by those who at the same time criticize the older more traditional style of celebrating Mass, with its emphasis on rubrical fidelity and discipline in regard to the words of consecration as being “magic”. “Liturgy isn’t magic!”, they opine forcefully. Yes. That’s right. And admitting non-Catholics to Communion doesn’t magically make everyone “one”, either.

LITERAL TRANSLATION:
May the reception of Your sacraments
save us, O Lord,
and strengthen us in the light of Your truth.

ICEL (1973 translation of the 1970MR):
Lord,
may the eucharist you give us
bring us to salvation
and keep us faithful to the light of your truth.

What comes to mind as I hear the (Latin) version is the potent connection of the office and ministry of Peter in the Church, guaranteed by Christ Himself, and the efficacy of the Eucharist, also guaranteed by the Lord. The one guarantees the other. Just as there is no Church without the Eucharist and no Eucharist without the Church, neither must there be lacking the Petrine ministry in the Church, lest the saving reality of the Church Christ gave us be crippled, shaky and vague.

During the Last Supper, Our Blessed Lord looked at Simon Peter and explained Peter’s office in the Church to him more completely, “"Simon, Simon, behold, Satan demanded to have you, that he might sift you like wheat, but I have prayed for you that your faith may not fail; and when you have turned again, strengthen (confirma) your brethren" (Luke 22:31:32 RSV). Immediately after, Peter grandly promises to be true and Christ announces how he will thrice deny that he even knows Him. That office of strengthening is the underlying power which Peter’s Successor has when he teaches infallibly on faith and morals and also, probably, when he exercises his disciplinary jurisdiction in the Church. Without unity with the one Vicar of Christ, we cannot rely on the strengthening that Christ gives us through him. Stop relying on Peter and on his office, defy him and his teaching and jurisdiction, and there can be no unity in faith adequate to provide for reception of the Eucharist.

In our prayer, we pray in unity (hopefully) with Peter, our Holy Father the Pope, that God will strengthen us (confirmet) in God’s truth (which is one truth and not many truths), and therefore in our unity as members of the one Church (not many churches) Christ gave us, and thus in unity with each other in a common sharing both caused by and symbolized by the reception of the Body and Blood of the Savior. We need strengthening, too, against all the attacks of Hell, both within and without that same Church.

What Does the Prayer Really Say? 19th Sunday of Ordinary Time

ORIGINALLY PRINTED IN The Wanderer in 2006

Those who have been resisting the norms laid down in Liturgiam authenticam appeal to a theory of translation that would peg our liturgical texts to the ever-shifting style of common parlance. They are, in short, impossibly proposing to make everything “understandable” by making it up-to-date. This is a very bad idea. It would necessitate constant revision of the texts, people in one place in the world would need an entirely different version, and we would be left with the impression that none of the content of the texts referred to anything having enduring value. Much more could be said about what a bad idea that is, but here is a piece from the internet blog Pontifications, which posted a description by Fr. Aidan Kavanagh from his book Elements of rite: A handbook of liturgical style of what liturgy is all about. See if you don’t think this points straight at the errors of the aforementioned (slightly edited):

Breezy liturgical style is not characteristic of one who has attained liturgical mastery. It is usually the work of an egocentric who imagines that whatever occurs to him or her is generally interesting and that uninhibited liturgical expression of this will create enthusiasm and carry the day. It may also be a compensation mechanism of the guilt-ridden or unsure, who cannot cope with the fact that some of God’s ways are inscrutable and often illiberal, according to human standards. Whatever the motive, the Spontaneous Me approach to liturgy produces little prayers, rambling homilies on current events, sappy hymns, and eucharists hardly distinguishable from the coffee and doughnut social that follows in the church hall. That the taste of all this is dubious or its discipline minimal is not the point. The point is that it is untrue. It warps Christian logos into a liturgical style which that logos does not support but condemns. For that logos is not about becoming well-adjusted in a world where, by human choice, death is at home. It is about breaking through such a world into another, where life that passes all understanding, and is available only at immense cost, is discovered to have been our birthright all along. This is the real world, that for which we were created and redeemed on a cross. Anything less is fantasy and fable.

 

I find this to be a good foundation for why we need to have words like “consubstantial” in a new translation of the Creed and why we need to hear “for many” or “for the multitude” during the consecration of the Precious Blood. We must unhook our liturgical language from the immediate and the “me”.

This week’s Latin prayer was in the ancient Veronese Sacramentary for December (the “10th” month), a time of fasting which is now called Advent. In the Gelasian it was the Secret for the 2nd Sunday of Lent. It was not in a pre-conciliar edition of the Missale Romanum. However, just for a change of pace we might want to start this week with the ICEL version now in use before we get into what the prayer really says. Read it and weep.

ICEL (1973 translation of the 1970MR):
God of power,
giver of the gifts we bring,
accept the offering of your Church
and make it the sacrament of our salvation.

The first time I worked on this prayer, and had typed in this ICEL version, I had to make sure that I was looking at the correct week, that’s how bad it is. I wonder if you agree:

LITERAL TRANSLATION:
Having been appeased, O Lord, take unto Yourself the gifts of Your Church
which You both mercifully bestowed as things to be offered as sacrifices
and You are causing mightily to transform into the mysterious sacrament of our salvation.

SUPER OBLATA (2002MR):
Ecclesiae tuae, Domine, munera placatus assume,
quae et misericors offerenda tribuisti,
et in nostrae salutis potenter efficis transire mysterium.

Getting into some Latin vocabulary will console us after the trauma of the ICEL version. After all, the Greek playwright Sophocles said, “There is a certain pleasure also in words, whenever they cause forgetfulness of present evils” (Frag. 259).

The adjective placatus is from the verb placo meaning “to reconcile” and “to quiet, soothe, calm, assuage, appease, pacify.” Thus, we can say “having been appeased.” While misericors “merciful” is a nominative adjective, to get it into decent English we must merge it into something that sounds more adverbial, lest it get too ponderous: “which you, the merciful one, gave… which you merciful gave…”. According to our ever-open Lewis & Short Dictionary, tribuo signifies “to assign, impart, allot, bestow, give” (synonyms being do, dono, largior). We have seen many times in the series how mysterium is often interchangeable with sacramentum and refers especially in liturgical prayer to the Paschal Mystery, enacted and represented sacramentally in every Holy Sacrifice of the Mass.

The marvelous verb assumo gives us some intriguing ideas. It means basically, “to take to or with one’s self, to take up, receive, adopt, accept, take”. L&S refers to “discourse” as in “to take up, begin” and cites Ecclesiastical Latin “after the Hebrew”, as in the rabbinic method of teaching by parables. The image coming to my mind is that of a great and constant dialog of God and His people. It is not a dialog of equals. It is not a dialog that we initiate. It is, nevertheless a dialog by which we ourselves are directed and transformed, by the Word, when at the same time we offer in the conversation with God (prayer) all that we are to be transformed. This prayer takes place in the offertory section of Mass, in the midst of dialogs between the priest and the people (the whole Church – Christ the Head (in the person of the priest) with Christ the Body (assembly) – in unity raising the Sacrifice up to the Father).

Briefly, transeo, transpire, transivi (ii), transitum is “to go over or across, to cross over, pass over, pass by, pass” and by extension “to pass over, be changed into any thing”. The passage of the People of Israel through the sea is called in Christian writings a transitus as is Christ’s passage through death and the tomb: so is our passing through the waters of baptism.

Offerenda is one of those so-called verbal "nd" forms of which WDTPRS has spoken in the past. There is found in this form a concept of necessity and purpose. Offero itself took on in Ecclesiastical Latin the meaning “to offer to God, to consecrate, dedicate” as found in the Vulgate Exodus 38: 24 or 39:32 and Hebrews 9:14. In that passage from Hebrews (and I encourage you to read chapter 9 on your own) we see how the Apostle to the Gentiles uses priestly language and images of the Hebrew Temple rites. Paul contrasts the yearly Jewish ritual of purification of the flesh that had to be repeated with, on the other hand, the once-for-all-time Sacrifice of Christ, simultaneously the High Priest and the offered Victim, which purifies the whole person unto eternal salvation. This is the Sacrifice we renew and extend in our own day. The consequences of such a Sacrifice ought to compel us to prepare with the greatest care all that we do and say at every celebration of Holy Mass. It is all His gift to us.

A SMOOTHER VERSION:
Be pleased, O Lord, to receive the gifts of Your Church
which You both mercifully bestowed
that we might raise them back up to You
and which in Your might You are causing to transform
into the mysterious sacrament of our salvation.

I usually place your feedback at the top of each column, but this week I thought I would end with something a reader sent which moved me. Alas, your letters sent to The Wanderer are not always quickly forwarded and this letter dated 9 May, from JW in MD, just arrived (edited):

I pray that you and the staff of The Wanderer continue to receive the blessings of Christ. I am incarcerated in the State of Maryland. Every so often I am blessed to receive an old copy of The Wanderer. I am trying to save up enough money to subscribe to this most wonderful paper. ... Since I and many others have no access to the internet, but would love to have the back articles which you have written, how could individuals such as myself receive them? Have you ever considered placing them in book form? I am quite sure many readers would enjoy the depth of insight and knowledge you offer. Thank you for hearing me and I shall keep you and The Wanderer staff in my prayers.

 

Yes, JW, I have given serious thought to publishing some version of these articles in book form. Many people suggest this to me. I am not sure yet what the format will be. Maybe readers have ideas. I think I would have to leave out references to the translation wars and current news (except in the introduction) and also exclude the ICEL version (since a new one is coming – or so they claim). I would restrict myself to my own version and some commentary. I will make sure, JW, you get a copy of this issue of The Wanderer, at least.

Perhaps JW’s letter will move you readers to consider giving gift subscriptions to people who, less fortunate than yourselves, are shut in or restricted in income, or anybody else, for that matter. The Wanderer, as a journal of opinion and of news, has a good deal to offer. You won’t perhaps agree with everything you read in it (I sure don’t!), and not all of it is cheery. But these days of ours need “a lot less happy gas” as one bishop I know puts it, and having a contrasting view to chew on doesn’t do us any harm.

In the meantime, in your prayers do not forget those who are shut in or imprisoned. This is a useful spiritual work of mercy which is so very easy to perform. And I thank you, JW, for your prayers. I will remember you in mine.

What Does the Prayer Really Say? 19th Sunday in Ordinary Time

ORIGINALLY PRINTED IN The Wanderer in 2005

CS writes from NY via the traditional paper, envelope and postage stamp method (edited): “Let me get this straight – the bishops did not want to change the acclamation, ‘Christ has died, Christ is risen, Christ will come again,’ because the faithful would be confused with all these changes. Right? No confusion about who kneels, who stands, if it is a holy day, if it is not a holy day, Communion in the hand, Communion on the tongue, and on and on.” Ahem… CS… what can one say? You had better get out more paper, envelopes and stamps.

Via e-mail Rev. Mr. JC writes (edited): “I wanted to express my thanks for your wonderful column in The Wanderer. I look forward to it every week and have learned much. Recently, our Archdiocese sponsored a day with a Melkite Bishop, for priests and deacons, about liturgy, especially from his rite. It was most enjoyable. The bishop told a funny story on himself. In their rite, the deacon sings or chants most of their liturgy. When the deacon loses his voice, they make him a priest and when the priest loses his mind, they consecrate him a bishop. Anyway, … (in) St. Basil’s Eucharistic Prayer, the translation I saw, they use the word ‘many’ and not ‘all’.” Thanks for the anecdote and information, Reverend Deacon. “All”, huh? You don’t say! Have you shared this with the members of the Vox Clara Committee? Deacon JC rightly pointed out that Anaphora of St. Basil informs our Latin Rite Fourth Eucharistic Prayer. We covered this ground in our WDTPRS articles last year which studied all four major Prayers in the current Missale Romanum.

WDTPRS all along has been suggesting first of all prayer for our bishops and those responsible for translations. Their task is daunting. The members of the Congregation for Divine Worship and Discipline of the Sacraments will be under great pressure not to implement Liturgiam authenticam. The enemies of LA want instead to slow the process until it is forgotten. You can all kindly and respectfully write to express your concerns, hopes and aspirations. Don’t think one letter, the right letter, can’t make an impact. You can also make sure the information you are reading in these finger-smudging pages gets into, and onto, more people’s hands. Give gift subscriptions to The Wanderer. Suggest they subscribe. Share the information. If any of you are already involved in some sort of parish or diocesan group or initiative concerning liturgy, consider how you can help people understand what the issues are. Perhaps a sympathetic pastor can order copies for distribution. Remember too that your parish priest might never have heard anything about this translation business before. It is amazing how many priests I can still shock when explaining the vast discrepancies between the Latin and the ICEL presently in use.

COLLECT - (2002MR):
Omnipotens sempiterne Deus,
quem paterno nomine invocare praesumimus,
perfice in cordibus nostris spiritum adoptionis filiorum,
ut promissam hereditatem ingredi mereamur.

The Latin prayer was not in previous editions Missale Romanum before the 1970 Novus Ordo. It has roots in the 9th century Sacramentary of Bergamo and thus is ancient text.
Paternus, a, um is an adjective, “fatherly”. Literally, a paternum nomen would be “Fatherly name”. In English we need to break that down a little, just as we do with the Latin for “Sunday”: dies dominica or “lordly Day” in place of what we say “the day of the Lord”. In English a paternum nomen is “the name of Father”. Latin uses adjectives and adverbs for more purposes than we do. Our trusted old friend or perhaps even newly acquired Lewis & Short Dictionary informs us that invoco means “to call upon, invoke” especially as a witness or as aid. So, there is an element of urgency and humility in the word. Praesumo gives us the English word and concept of “presumption”. At its root it means, “to take before, take first or beforehand.” The adverb and adjective prae, the prefix element of prae-sumo, is “before, in front of, in advance of”. In a less physical sense it can mean “anticipate”, in the sense of “to imagine or picture to one’s self beforehand” or in a moral nuance “to presume, take for granted”. It is even, more interestingly, “to undertake, venture, dare” together with “to trust, be confident”.

LITERAL TRANSLATION:
Almighty eternal God,
whom we presume to invoke by the name of Father,
perfect in our hearts the spirit of the adoption of children,
so that we may merit to enter into the inheritance promised.

Notice that I translate filii as “children” rather than as just “sons”, according to the literal meaning. Latin masculine plurals, depending on the context, can also include females even though the form of the word is masculine.

We will not waste time as we look at the facet of daring and presumption in our Collect. During the Holy Mass, through the words, actions and intentions of the ordained priest, as a Church we presume with trusting audacity to consecrate bread and wine and change them substantially to the Body and Body of the Second Person of the Trinity. We do this because Jesus commanded us to do so, but it is a harrowing and consoling undertaking all the same. We are laying hands upon truly sacred things, the most sacred things there can be: Christ’s Body, Blood, soul and divinity. What could be more presumptuous? Two sections of the great Corpus Christi sequence by St. Thomas Aquinas (+1274) remind us of what is at stake when we approach the Blessed Sacrament for Communion (not my translation): “Here beneath these signs are hidden / priceless things, to sense forbidden; / signs, not things, are all we see. / Flesh from bread, and Blood from wine, / yet is Christ in either sign, / all entire confessed to be. … Both the wicked and the good / eat of this celestial Food: / but with ends how opposite! / With this most substantial Bread, / unto life or death they’re fed, in a difference infinite.” That last part bears repeating: “Mors est malis, vita bonis: / vide paris sumptionis / quam sit dispar exitus. Eternal death for the wicked if they receive Communion improperly. Eternal life for the good if they receive well. See how dissimilar the different outcomes from the same act of Holy Communion can be? This is good to ponder during this Year of the Eucharist: Am I properly disposed to receive what Christ and the Church have promised are truly His Body and Blood? Do I dare receive? When was my last good confession?

Immediately after the Eucharistic Prayer but before our intrepid reception of Communion, we dare to pray with the words that the same Son taught us. In introducing the Lord’s Prayer the priest says in Latin, “Having been instructed/urged by saving commands and formed by divine institution, we dare/presume (audemus) to say, ‘Our Father…’”. Audeo is “to venture, to dare”, and in this it is a synonym of praesumo. Jesus taught us to see God as Father in a way that no ever one had before. Christ revolutionized our prayer. In our lowliness we now dare to raise our eyes and venture to speak to God in a new way. We come to Him as children of a new “sonship”. We learned from our examination of the Collect for the Third Sunday of Easter that adoptio is “adoption” in the sense of “to take as one’s child”. We find the phrase in Paul: adoptionem filiorum Dei or “adoption of the sons of God” in the Latin Vulgate of Jerome (cf. Romans 8:23; Galatians 4:5; Ephesians 1:5). We do not approach God as fearful slaves. We are now also able to receive Communion with reverent confidence provided we have prepared well. God has done His part.

ICEL (1973 translation of the 1970MR):
Almighty and ever-living God,
you Spirit made us your children,
confident to call you Father.
Increase your Spirit within us
and bring us to our promised inheritance.

Take careful note that the language of adoption has been expunged. Does this change the impact of the prayer? Does it present a different view of the Christian life than that presented in the Latin Collect?

An important element of our Collect comes from Paul: “For you did not receive the spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you have received the spirit of sonship. We can invoke God the Father with confidence, not fear, when we cry, ‘Abba! Father!’” (Romans 8:15… and “Abba” does not mean “daddy”). God will come to us not as a stranger God, but as a Father God. What God does for us is not cold or impersonal. It is an act of love. Even in commanding us God the Son did not mean to terrify us into paralysis. This, however, was the result for some who, when hearing Christ’s teaching about His flesh, left Him because what they heard was too hard (cf. John 6). We need not be terrified… overwhelmed with awe, certainly, but not by terror.

Warned, urged, instructed by a divine Person who taught us with divine precepts, let’s get straight who our Father is and who we are because of who He is. We are children of a loving Father. He comes looking for us to draw us unto Him because of His fatherly heart. The Holy Father Pope John Paul II wrote for the Church’s preparation for the Millennium Jubilee: “If God goes in search of man, created in his own image and likeness, he does so because he loves him eternally in the Word, and wishes to raise him in Christ to the dignity of an adoptive son” (Tertio millennio adveniente 6). As God’s adopted children we have dignity. The adoption brought by the Spirit is not some second rate relationship with God or mere juridical slight of hand. It is the fulfillment of an eternal love and longing. This is a primary and foundational dimension of everything we are as Catholic Christians. It is perhaps for this reason that that the Catechism of the Catholic Church speaks so clearly to this point, in the first paragraph.

The adoption we speak about in this Collect is something far more profound than a juridical act by which one who is truly not of the same blood and bone is therefore considered, legally, to be so. Indeed some Protestants see our return to righteousness in God’s sight, that is, justification through baptism, in these terms: a sort of legal sleight of hand whereby we remain in reality guilty and corrupt, but our disgusting sinful nature is ignored by the Father because the merits of Christ are interposed between His eyes and our debased nature. However, we know by divine revelation and the continuing teaching of the Christian Church that by baptism more than a legal fiction takes place. We are more than justified, we are sanctified. Something of God’s divine grace is transferred to us, infused into our being so that we truly become sons and daughters of Almighty God, transformed radically from within, as members of Christ’s own Mystical Person. Thus, we too share Christ’s sonship. We are changed “ontologically”, in our being. It is almost as if God infused His own DNA into us to make us His own in a sense far beyond any legal adoption could accomplish. Astonishingly, this transformation alters who we are without removing our individuality or dignity as persons. We are His and unified as One in Christ, and yet we remain ourselves. We are integrated into a new structure of Communion, indeed a new family. By our discordant actions we can make this earthly dimension of our supernatural family, our Church, dysfunctional.

What a mystery it is that God, who lavishes upon us the mighty transforming graces we all have known and profess to love, leaves also in our hands the freedom to spurn Him and trivialize His gifts. This freedom, itself a gift, could only be a Father’s gift to beloved children.