T
Tantum_ergo
Guest
Actually, the more you go to a Mass in any ‘other’ language’, the more you get to KNOW the other language. It broadens your mind.
Until relatively recently, most people did not get by in ‘one’ language. Even here in ‘melting pot’ America, where immigrants were pretty much told to ‘learn English’, until the mid 20th century the ‘mother tongue’ was spoken WITH the English. Go back a little further to the frontier, and you’ll find that people could ‘get by’ in (depending on where you lived) as much as half a dozen languages. . .and these weren’t the ‘intellectually elite’ people. They were just plain old regular people like you and me. No internet even, probably didn’t own all that many books, probably worked 16 hour days most days farming and living ‘on the land’–yet they could somehow wrap their minds around another language well enough to make themselves understood (were they ‘English’ speakers) to the dominant native Americans in the area, if any, to the French settlers in the nearest ‘fort’, to the German speaking family nearby, the Swedes who moved in upcountry. . . and were they Catholic, they would all meet with the priest who would be traveling the area (with luck, coming every month) to celebrate the LATIN mass, which even if they didn’t have nice little missals to read along with, they would have, through that sadly condemned practice of ‘rote memory’ and practice, been able to follow along, to worship with sincerity, understanding, and love.
Until relatively recently, most people did not get by in ‘one’ language. Even here in ‘melting pot’ America, where immigrants were pretty much told to ‘learn English’, until the mid 20th century the ‘mother tongue’ was spoken WITH the English. Go back a little further to the frontier, and you’ll find that people could ‘get by’ in (depending on where you lived) as much as half a dozen languages. . .and these weren’t the ‘intellectually elite’ people. They were just plain old regular people like you and me. No internet even, probably didn’t own all that many books, probably worked 16 hour days most days farming and living ‘on the land’–yet they could somehow wrap their minds around another language well enough to make themselves understood (were they ‘English’ speakers) to the dominant native Americans in the area, if any, to the French settlers in the nearest ‘fort’, to the German speaking family nearby, the Swedes who moved in upcountry. . . and were they Catholic, they would all meet with the priest who would be traveling the area (with luck, coming every month) to celebrate the LATIN mass, which even if they didn’t have nice little missals to read along with, they would have, through that sadly condemned practice of ‘rote memory’ and practice, been able to follow along, to worship with sincerity, understanding, and love.