1. Fidelity to the Latin original
2. Fidelity to Holy Scripture and Theology
3. Aesthetic language
At a diocesan information session some months back, during the question and answer session, a gentleman asked if the hymnals would need retranslated. Of course, hymnals are not part of the Missal, so the answer is no, but it did get me thinking.
I found myself wondering how these principles could be applied to many of the hymns that we sing in Mass. Things are a bit different here because the choice of hymns is fairly wide open, whereas the texts for Mass are given by the Church. Then again, as I have pointed out many times before, the Church has given us Proper texts to be used in the place of hymns. Hymns, while permissible, are the last option listed in the rubrics, the first option being the Proper chants. Much of the “translation issues” in hymns could be resolved by simply doing what the Church implicitly recommends: using the chants Proper to the Mass rather than hymns. Nevertheless, I thought it would an interesting exercise to go through some rather well-known hymns and apply the above four principles. After looking at several songs, I chose “You Are Near” by Dan Schutte for this post.
NB. I was unable to find an updated version. Originally, the first line of the refrain was, “Yahweh, I know you are near.” Because of a 2008 Vatican directive that prohibited the use of the holy name “Yahweh” in song during Mass, Dan Schutte rewrote the first line.
Please note that this is not an attempt to pick on Mr. Schutte. I have a feeling that what follows could be applied to the majority of the songs in the hymnal, even those which I would consider to be of high quality. The fact that these criticism could be so widely applied only serves to emphasize the priority that the Propers enjoy over hymnody.
I chose this song in part because it is based on Scripture. Depressing as it was, there were several songs that seemed to have no objective reference, Scripture or otherwise, so discussing “translation” could never get off the ground. Even for some that claim a Scriptural ground, the biblical passage is only loosely used as motivation. In fact, I initially began by trying to analyze “Sing a New Song,” also by Dan Schutte. The 2011 Music Issue (OCP) claims that “Sing a New Song” is based on Psalm 98:1, 4-6. However, when I went to Psalm 98, I found very little that could actually be compared short of the title and opening phrase. On the other hand, “You Are Near” at least attempts to adhere to its Scriptural origin, in this case of Psalm 139.
I chose this song in part because it is based on Scripture. Depressing as it was, there were several songs that seemed to have no objective reference, Scripture or otherwise, so discussing “translation” could never get off the ground. Even for some that claim a Scriptural ground, the biblical passage is only loosely used as motivation. In fact, I initially began by trying to analyze “Sing a New Song,” also by Dan Schutte. The 2011 Music Issue (OCP) claims that “Sing a New Song” is based on Psalm 98:1, 4-6. However, when I went to Psalm 98, I found very little that could actually be compared short of the title and opening phrase. On the other hand, “You Are Near” at least attempts to adhere to its Scriptural origin, in this case of Psalm 139.
I will use the Latin Nova Vulgate for the Old Testament text. I realize that the Old Testament was not written in Latin, but (1) the Latin translation is generally recognized as a decent rendition of the original language, (2) we are after all the Latin Rite Church, and (3) Liturgiam Authenicam (2001) established the Nova Vulgate as the point of reference for all translations of the liturgy into the vernacular.
Even though this song better presents the Scripture it references (as opposed to “Sing a New Song”), the first criterion (fidelity to the Latin) is admittedly the most difficult to analyze. After all, it was never the intent of the composer, in this case Mr. Schutte, to provide a translation of the Scriptural text, but rather to use the Scripture passage as a motivation of sorts for the hymn. We could argue all day about whether or not this is a good thing. It does seem that this opens the door to private interpretations of Scriptural passages unguided by the teaching magisterium. However, there is certainly a history of hymns, even within the Gregorian tradition, that are not taken directly from Scripture itself. Thus, I will try to focus on those parts that specifically deviate from the Psalm rather than those that seek to paraphrase a particular verse. While it might not be as easy to critique the “translation” in its entirety, I think we can point out a couple deficiencies in the way in which “You Are Near” fails to communicate the Latin text.
The first line of the first verse reads, “Lord, you have searched my heart, and you know when I sit and when I stand.” The Latin for “searched” is scrutatus (in the Clementine Vulgate it is probasti), and “searched” is not only appropriate, but is the word used by the RSV translation. However, the Latin word for “heart” appears nowhere in the verse. The entire Latin phrase is, Domine, scrutatus es et cognovisiti me, meaning, “Lord, you have searched and known me.”
The second verse contains the line, “Where can I run from your love?” In verse 7 of the Psalm we find the Latin, Quo ido a spiritu tuo?, which translates, “Where can I go from your spirit?” This translation, ironically, is reminiscent of the people’s response in Mass: et cum Spiritu tuo
The second verse from the hymn is, “If I climb to the heavens you are there; if I fly to the sunrise or sail beyond the sea, still I find you there.” This is inspired by verses 7-10 from the Psalm. Verse 8 actually contains Si ascendero in caelum and si descendero in infernum, which the RSV renders as, “If I ascend to heaven,” and, “If I make my bed in Sheol.” I don’t know the Hebrew for this, and perhaps there is something that indicates “make my bed,” but the Latin indicates, “If I ascend to heaven,” and “If I descend to [the lower regions of Sheol].” The point here is that the song eliminates any reference to the opposite of ascending to heaven.
Finally, the fourth verse of the song contains a rather random change in vocabulary. The verse reads, “Marvelous to me are your works; how profound are your thoughts, my Lord. Even if I could count them, they number as the stars, you would still be there.” The RSV, taking pieces from verses 14 and 17-18, reads, “Wonderful are your works ... How weighty to me are your thoughts, O God! How vast is the sum of them! I try to count them - they are more than the sand; I come to the end - I am still with you.” The interesting change is “sand” to “stars.” The Latin word is arenam, which is clearly “sand.” I find myself wondering why Mr. Schutte thought to change this.
There is a lot more that could be said, but when the text becomes more of a paraphrase, it gets harder to comment on the issue of translation. As I said above, the purpose was probably not translation, but somehow capturing the “sprit” of the Psalm in the context of a newly composed hymn (which makes the elimination of the word “spirit” all the more ironic).
With that, let’s turn towards the second criterion: fidelity to Sacred Scripture. I repeat that I am grateful for Mr. Schutte’s attempt to use Scripture as inspiration for this hymn; the same can’t be said for every song in OCP’s Music Issue. However, there is a certain sense in which “You Are Near” is not so near to the intent of Psalm 139. The Psalm speaks to a proper fear of the Lord. The is certainly a sense of awe and wonder that is expressed, part and parcel of the virtue of pious fear (“Such knowledge is too wonderful for me; it is so high that I cannot attain it ... For it was you who formed my inward parts; you knit me together in my mother’s womb ... I praise you for I am fearfully and wonderfully made ... Your eyes have beheld my unformed substance”). However, “You Are Near” seems to present God with less of a sense of awe and wonder as with a sense of closeness. Even the title, You Are Near, is not really suggested by the Psalm text. The Psalm is much more along the lines of, I cannot run from your presence. There is a difference. The refrain of the song states, “O Lord, I know you are near, standing always at my side.” The Psalm never uses the allusion of God being “at my side.” Instead, its central focus is indicated by lines like, “Where can I go from your spirit? Or where can I flee from you presence? How weighty to me are your thoughts, O God! How vast is the sum of them!” Don’t get me wrong, the lyrics of the song contain a certain amount of awe and wonder, but with an admixture of a sense of shallow comfort. Again, so as not to be understood, there is a certain amount of comfort that results from God’s immanence in our lives, but that does not seem to be the focus of Psalm 139.
As further evidence of this, consider verses 19-24, comprising the last third of the Psalm:
“O that you would kill the wicked, O God, and that the bloodthirsty would depart from me - those who speak of you maliciously, and lift themselves up against you for evil! Do I not hate those who rise up against you? I hate them with perfect hatred; I count them my enemies. Search me, O God, and know my heart; test me and know my thoughts. See if there is any wicked way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting.”
References to the “wicked” and “bloodthirsty” are left out completely from the hymn. The hymn focusses disproportionately on God standing with us as our friend rather than God standing over us as our Creator. Of course, the addition of “hate” would contrast too much with the emotional “love” portrayed in the song. It does not, however, contrast at all with the Psalm itself, but rather further develops the main theme of pious fear.
The third criterion is tricky to apply, whether we are talking about hymns or the new translation of the Missal. The desire is for a more aesthetic and formal language, a language set aside for liturgical use. While I firmly believe that this is an objective criterion, it remains true that for those who simply “do not prefer” the language, it becomes hard to convince them that formal is better. Rather than argue this point, we can at least observe that the language in the RSV translation of Psalm 139 is far more elevated than what we find in “You Are Near.” Consider verses 9-10.
“If I take the wings of the morning and settle at the farthest limits of the sea, even there your hand shall lead me, and your right hand shall hold me fast.”
The lyrics from the song read, “If I fly to the sunrise or sail beyond the sea, still I find you there.”
Verse 2-5 from the Psalm read,
“You know when I sit and when I rise up; you discern my thoughts from far aways. You search out my path and my lying down, and are acquainted with all my ways. Even before a word is on my tongue, O LORD, you know it completely. You hem me in, behind and before, and lay your hand upon me.”
Verses 15-16:
“My frame was not hidden from you, when I was being made in secret, intricately woven in the depths of the earth. You eyes beheld my unformed substance. In your book were written all the days that were formed for me, when none of them as yet existed.”
There is quite simply nothing of this eloquence in the lyrics to “You Are Near.”
It might be objected that a hymn composer is restricted by the meter of the song. Sure, it would be wonderful to be able to keep an accurate translation and enhanced language, but it is nearly impossible to do in the context of 4/4 time let alone to fit to a pre-existing melody. Further restrictions occur in other hymns that attempt to keep not only meter but also rhyme. How can we possibly adhere to the text under all these melodic restrictions? Then again, isn’t this precisely the point? When the music comes first and the words are situated later, the words will always suffer. A similar problem has cropped up with the new translation of the Roman Missal - when writing new Mass settings, many composers are trying to “fit” the new words into strict meter, in some cases to already existing melodies from previously written settings. The Gregorian tradition works quite the other way. It gives primacy to the word and then constructs the melody to fit the text. In fact, in older manuscripts it was not uncommon to see the text take a visual prominence with the musical notation scratched lightly above the words.
By way of contrast with “You Are Near,” consider the following plain chant rendition of verses 17-18 from this same Psalm. (I should note that the Latin text comes from the Clementine Vulgate, which differs considerable from the Nova Vulgate for this verse.)
The composition above comes from the Anglican Use Gradual. The noble simplicity of this piece is remarkable. Unfortunately, I cannot seem to find any recordings of it. If someone has one, let me know. I am happy to post it.
Of course, nothing can compare with the Gregorian Proper itself:
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