Nunc Tempus Acceptabile

An Office hymn for Lent:

Today is the accepted time.
Christ’s healing light, the gift divine
Shines forth to save the penitent
To wake the world by means of Lent.

The light of Christ will show the way
That leads to God’s salvation day.
The rigor of this fasting mends
The hearts that hateful sinning rends.

Keep all our minds and bodies true
In sacrifice, O God, to You,
That we may join, when Lents have ceased,
The everlasting Paschal Feast.

Let all creation join to raise
Most gracious Trinity, Your praise.
And when your love has made us new,
May we sing new songs, Lord, to You.
Amen.

Translation copyright 2006 by Kathleen Pluth. May be copied freely for use during Lent 2011.

Stabat Mater Dolorosa

Here is a translation I made of the sequence Stabat Mater Dolorosa, with transliteration help from The Ultimate Stabat Mater Website.

There are five sequences sung at Mass. The Stabat Mater is part of the Mass of the day for Our Lady of Sorrows, but most parishes use it during Lent, for Stations of the Cross.

The translation follows the rhyme scheme of the Latin, and is quite literal. Anyone may freely use this translation during Lent, 2010.

On the Cross her Son was dying.

Mary stood beneath Him crying,

Sharing in His saving cross.

As He hangs, her soul is grieving,

and a sword her heart is cleaving

and she weeps the bitter loss.

O, the sad, afflicted Mother

of the Son beyond all others:

only Son of God most high.

Full of grief, her heart is aching;

watching Him, her body, quaking,

trembles as her offspring dies.

Who would see Christ’s mother crying

at the bitter crucifying

without tears of sympathy?

Who could see her depth of feeling—

thoughts of many hearts revealing—

and not share her agony?

Pardon for our sins entreating,
She saw Him endure the beating.
All our guilt on Him was cast.
She stood by in contemplation
When her Son, in desolation
Breathed His spirit forth at last.

Font of love, O Blessed Mother,

lend me tears to mourn my Brother.

Never let my ardor dim.

Let my heart be burning freely,

Christ my God be pleased to see me

all on fire with love for Him.

This I ask, O Holy Mary,

that His wounds I too may carry:

fix them deeply in my heart.

Mine the burden He was bearing;

let me in His pain be sharing;

of His suffering take a part.

Let me join in your lamenting,

through my life weep unrelenting

tears for Jesus Crucified.

Let me stand and share your weeping,

all the day death's vigil keeping,

glad to stand close by your side.

Queen of all the virgin choir,

judge me not when I aspire

your pure tears to emulate.

Let me share in Christ's affliction—

death by bitter crucifixion—

and His wounds commemorate.

Let me taste the pains He offered,

drunk with love for Him who suffered.

May His wounds become my own.

On the day of Christ's returning

may my heart be lit and burning.

Virgin, aid me at His throne.

May His Cross be interceding

and His death my vict'ry pleading.

May He hold me in His grace.

When my flesh by death is taken,

may my soul to glory waken

and in heaven take a place. Amen.

Trans. Copyright 2005 Kathleen Pluth. I grant rights to use and copy during Lent 2010. All other rights reserved.

The Glory of these Forty Days

(Click here to play tune: Erhalt uns, Herr)

The glory of these forty days
we celebrate with songs of praise;
For Christ, by whom all things were made,
Himself has fasted and has prayed.

Alone and fasting Moses saw
the loving God who gave the law.
And to Elijah, fasting, came
the steeds and chariots of flame.

So Daniel trained his mystic sight,
delivered from the lion's might.
And John, the Bridegroom's friend, became
the herald of Messiah's name.

Then grant us, Lord, like them to be
full oft in fast and prayer with Thee;
Our spirits strengthen with Thy grace,
and give us joy to see Thy face.

Sixth Century Latin Hymn, marvellously translated by Maurice F. Bell

Lent Is Coming!

And not a moment too soon.

I hope to post a number of Lenten hymns, and speak in general about the interesting problem of singing--an exercise of gladness--in a sorrowful way. The moods of the liturgical seasons are fascinating. We are lifted up and brought very low, many times over the course of a life. And through these cycles of joy, sorrow and glory we come to know Him, who, although He did not know sin, was made sin, so that we might become the very holiness of God.

Here's a little Lenten hymnody:

Forty days and forty nights

You were fasting in the wild;

forty days and forty nights,

tempted and yet undefiled.

Shall not we Your trials share,

learn Your discipline of will;

and with You by fast and prayer

wrestle with the powers of hell?

So, if Satan, pressing hard,

soul and body would destroy;

Christ, Who conquered, be our Guard,

give to us the Victor’s joy.

Savior, may we hear Your voice –

keep us constant at Your side;

and with You we shall rejoice

at the eternal Eastertide.

"Dad, that song's weird."

"What do you mean?"
"At my school. Every year they sing this song about ashes. It's so weird."
"Oh. Do you mean the one that goes 'We rise again from ashes...'?"
"Exactly. Why do they have to sing it? It's not good."
"No, I don't think so either. Sit down for a minute and I'll show you what I think is wrong with it. Now let me write down the first verse:

We rise again from ashes, from the good we've failed to do.
We rise again from ashes, to create ourselves anew.
If all our world is ashes, then must our lives be true:
An offering of ashes, an offering to you.

And here is the last verse:

Praise be to the Father, who made us like himself.
Praise be to the Son, who saved us by his death.
Praise be to the Spirit who creates our world anew
From an offering of ashes, an offering to you.

Okay, when you look at those two verses, which is worse?"
"Well, the last one isn't too bad. But the first one is terrible."
"I agree. Can you say exactly what is wrong with it?"
"Well, for one thing, it makes us look terrible. I mean, I know we're sinners and all that, but if you say 'all our world is ashes' it just sounds too strict."
"I agree. If we thought that being sinners made us totally depraved, well, that might be okay to say. But as Catholics we believe that there is a lot of good in the world. And in us."
"The other thing I don't like is it reminds me of a phoenix. I mean, phoenixes are cool, but is that right to sing about in church?"
"I don't think so. Hmm, I wonder if phoenixes ever were Christian symbols? Could be, I'll google it later. But I would at least say that I'm not crazy about that image, because if I remember right, phoenixes rise out of their ashes as their exact same selves. But the New Testament is clear about the fact that when we rise, we shall be changed. We'll be ourselves, but different. But anyways there's something else that I think is a real problem with that verse."
"What?"
"Look at the last two lines of the last verse. Who is doing the action?"
"The Spirit. I guess they mean the Holy Spirit."
"Right. And who is doing the action in the first verse?"
"We are. That's it, that's what I don't like."
"Exactly. When was the last time I created something? Never. I make things, and I have children, which is as close as I come to creating anything. But I've never created something from nothing. I've never caused something to rise from the dead. The last verse gets it right. The first verse, I think, is completely wrong. It's misleading and it's wrong. I won't even go into the second verse."
"Okay, that makes sense. I mean, that it's God's job to change us, even if we try to do what we can. I mean, I try, but I can't do it all.Anyways, I hope they don't sing it next year."
Reprinted from last year about this time.

Adoremus Bulletin

The March online edition picked up my translation of Nunc Tempus Acceptabile. Very nice presentation!