I too agree with JDC on this point. In particular, since this thread addresses concerns about the Roman Catholic Church in the U.S., I would add by observation that many practicing Roman Catholics (of all levels and degrees, including my RC family members) seem to know the Church primarily through their experience and participation in the Mass in their own parish settings. What one sees, hears and feels during the Mass imprints on the mind, heart, and soul. If that experience is consistent from week to week and parish to parish, and with the guidelines set by Rome for proper adherence to the Latin Rite rubrics, people will come to know what is proper and what to both expect and respect.

We who have friends who have either visited our own churches or became members almost universally report the same witness and experience when first exposed - when attending the Divine Liturgy, they know its Sunday morning!

Quos vult perdere Deus primum dementat! (For all you who pine for the 'glory days' of the Missal of Pius V, the Latin of this tag line should not prove an obstacle to comprehension.

This (in English)does not follow. Some of the rc's I know who are most opposed to Latin, also favour the destruction of the icon screens, and on the same grounds: that the people should see, know, and understand. They seem to have no appreciation of veils of any sort. I assume they also like their chalices uncovered and their women immodest.

In fact, the postconciliar Latin Church has demonstrated what the American Ruthenians should take care to note: When you lay bare the liturgy by, for instance, speaking aloud the silent prayers and bringing down the level of language, the people's understanding is paradoxically destroyed.

Also, I am pretty pleased with myself to have made a reply with two colons.

I would disagree with this assessment. One of the papers in our deacon's class had to do with just this: the use of the vernacular language in the Liturgy. My argument was for it, and part of that argument comes from St. Paul, who wrote that if the people do not hear the Liturgy in an understandable language, they will not be edified. All the prayers are glorious and uplifting, and they lift the heart up to God.

I remember when I first began to serve the altar with +Fr. Mike, of happy memory, and was standing close enough to him to hear many of the prayers that the folks in the pew do not hear. I was stunned and overwhelmed by their beauty. They lifted my heart towards God.

I also agree that liturgy should be celebrated in the vernacular, but with two caveats: the vernacular translation must be complete, accurate and as aesthetically pleasing as the original; and the original language should be retained, both as a mark of continuity with the Tradition, and to ensure that, lacking familiarity with the original language, the people will no longer be able to determine whether what they are reading and praying in the liturgy is an accurate rendering of the original text.

There's a reason the Slavonic was omitted from the Teal Terror, not to mention most of the missalettes used in Roman parishes.

This is a non-sequitur of monumental proportions. It also demonstrates one of the major flaws in contemporary Latin liturgical consciousness--relentless didacticism, combined with a contemptuous assessment of the ability of the laity to understand anything beyond the most basic concepts unless laid out on a silver platter.

If your argument is fully true, then none of the prayers should be said sotto voce.

I do not oppose vernacular liturgy, of itself, but it is a mistake to set aside the massive benefits to be had from a good and dead language, to say nothing of the deep pitfalls (filled with pointy sticks and venomous snakes) of translation.

Unity is one. My own dear Ukies have a half-and-half English/Ukrainian liturgy now and then, and the two congregations couldn't be more split as when they sing and fall silent alternately. Of one mind in confessing indeed. I would rather hear it all in Ukrainian, though I know nothing of the language beyond the liturgical responses.

Another is that a deeper understanding of words may frequently be had by knowing the word in the root language. For example in the Angelic Salutation, the Latin "plena" reveals much more about the situation of the Theotokos than does the English "full".

On the other hand, Not knowing the language allows you to leave aside words qua words. Not everything is revealed by intellectual knowledge, Q.E.D.

There is more.

I don't mean to belabour this point, and prefer not to, feeling myself a(n RC) guest here.

If anyone says that Latin liturgy is not intelligible, uplifting, glorious and beneficial, he's wrong.

Not true. There are three different types of prayers said by the celebrant at the altar: those in which he leads the people; those he says on behalf of the people; and those which he says on his own behalf. Only the first two were ever taken aloud. That it was the earliest Tradition to take the second aloud is shown by several novellae of Justinian the Great, which complain that the prayers of the anaphora are no longer being taken aloud, and that this should cease. The retention of the ekphonesis shows that the entire prayer was once taken aloud, since it is the cue for the laity to give their approbation through the Amen. Those prayers the priest says that lack either a doxology or an ekphonesis were never meant to be heard by the congregation, and were taken silently.

Why did the public prayers become private? I believe there are two reasons, one pragmatic, the other a mystical rationale for the pragmatic reason. The pragmatic reason is simple--it was both easier on the priest's voice, and let the liturgy move faster, if the priest took all those prayers "silently" (actually, "in a low voice")--as anyone who is familiar with the prayers realizes, the priest isn't taking them at all, but eliding by them, except for the ekphonesis. This cheats both God and the people, who deserve to know what they are approving through their Amen. The second reason justified the first: the prayers were "sacred", but the people were "profane"--a false assertion that denies the sanctity of the People of God and the universal priesthood of the baptized.

It was this reasoning that caused Schmemann to assert that the prayers of the Anaphora should be said audibly in their fullness, but not the private prayers of the priest. One must recognize that the practice of taking the anaphora prayers silently has been legitimized by custom, and therefore it's probably not a good idea to impose reading them aloud from the top down, in the absence of a long period of educational preparation, both for the laity and for the clergy.

Not really.

On the other hand, I remember a lot of my Italian aunties were scandalized when the Mass was translated into English. It seemed they didn't agree at all with a lot of it.

The canonical text in Greek has no adjective at all, only the perfect passive participle: kekharitomene. As for the Latin's 'plena' meaning more than the English 'full': apply liberally(!) the Biblical "Infinitus est autem numerus stultorum!"

Ouch - that is cold!

I wonder why I should take care choosing my words when so much of the population is intent on demonstrating the accuracy of the maxim Ot'ets Nastoiatel provides. But more abundant even than stupidity is the stubborn refusal to see what's plain.

Considering words derived from "plenus" like plenitude and plenty adds to the understanding of "full" in this case.

Different words with the same meaning still sometimes indicate different things. That's one reason we keep all those extra words around, and why we don't just say she's "stuffed" and leave it at that.

I can't believe I'm having to argue this.

A fact the ramifications of which you could never consider if you had no access to the second language.