The new translation is horrible

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There’s no “may” or “be” at at. (If the Latin text wanted to say this, it would be done using a subjunctive form of the verb “to be.” Dominus vobiscum is a simple copula.)

The correct translation is: “The Lord is with you.” As a simple illustration, think about the way the Hail Mary prayer is rendered in English. The words in Latin are the same, except Gabriel is speaking to a singular Mary (te) as opposed to the “y’all” form (vobis). The Hail Mary doesn’t go, “…full of grace, the Lord BE with you.”

Also, “dominus vobiscum” is ostensibly a quote from Ruth 2:4. There is no “may” or “be” there either, which would be rendered in Hebrew using jussive form of the verb “to be.”
The experts that are translating this seem to disagree. Let me ask something. Is there a second person imperative in the Latin? In other words, is there another Latin phrase that would be, “The Lord be with you”, if we translated it back into Latin?
 
Originally Posted by MarianD
While it’s got nothing to do with English, it’s interesting to note that the French translation is also ‘receive’ because in French ‘recevoir quelqu’un’ (to receive someone) is to welcome them into your home, under your roof, so to speak.
 
The important point is that this is just as true in the (new) English as in the Latin, so if one is to complain about anything, it should not be “This is an obscure translation” but “This part of the Mass was written obscurely.”
Yes. The puzzling in the original text is intentional, and thus it has to be kept. It is puzzling, that we incompetent, week creatures could receive the one through him all things were made. The puzzling reminds us that this is not a natural thing, this is above our understanding
 
Quit complaining and crying! Geez! God is greater then all of or anything in the natural & supernatural world. It would make sence to use a greater form of language at the mass to worship God. If you want to use common language (that always changes with time) during private prayer then so be it, that’s your choice and nothing wrong with that. Our culture ALWAYS wants to do the bare minimum, “lets have it esier to understand” “Mass should be quick and done ASAP” “please dumb down things for me because I don’t want to put effort to understand”. Man it’s no wonder our society is the way it is.
I blame Rap music ja ja 😉
 
While it’s got nothing to do with English, it’s interesting to note that the French translation is also ‘receive’ because in French ‘recevoir quelqu’un’ (to receive someone) is to welcome them into your home, under your roof, so to speak.
What about the French version of the passage?

In Filipino the word is “magpatuloy” which literally translates to “have one enter” or “to welcome”.
 
What about the French version of the passage?

In Filipino the word is “magpatuloy” which literally translates to “have one enter” or “to welcome”.
The French version is pretty much identical to the English

"Seigneur, je ne suis pas digne de te recevoir;
mais dis seulement une parole et je serai guéri.
 
I’m sorry, but I’m just stating facts.
Alas, your familiarity with the word “fact” is mostly fictitious. You are stating an opinion—and an opinion that I am happy to say has been weighed, measured, and declined.

Incidentally, the new translation of the domine non sum dignus makes no odds to me, because I invariably say it in latin. It isn’t a response that must be made loudly enough that my neighbor can hear it, and so I take the liberty afforded to me. (It isn’t just a protest against the weak-tea mistranslation of which you seem so fond, so there is little need to break the habit now.)
 
It’s not that the writers of our current texts were bad at translating, it’s that they opted in many cases to rewrite rather than translate. There’s nothing inherently wrong with that approach; one could imagine, in theory, the Holy See prescribing that, within the general limits of the liturgy and with its own approval, every episcopal conference should rewrite the Latin text to make it meaningful and understandable in the local language. But that is not the approach that has been taken.
There’s something dreadfully wrong with that approach, and it’s one reason (albeit not the only one) why the lame duck version was a mistake from the get-go. The council authorized limited use of the vernacular. It did not envision liturgical disintegration by “rewriting.” The consilium had arrogance enough to share, and it seems to have poisoned the presumably well-meaning ICEL “translators” who so badly botched their task by paraphrasing if not outright (as you concede) rewriting the missal. “These weren’t bloopers; they were the result of people who had different ideas about what the Mass should say”—what incredible arrogance on their part!

I’m sure this doesn’t apply to Mark, but I do find the criticism of the new translation by the people who enthusiastically supported what was done 1965-1969 to be more than a little rich. Did they say “the translation is horrible—that’s just a fact!”? Did they pause to consider that “our spiritual drink” makes no sense in any context, still less when the wine will not become anything so amorphous as a “spiritual drink” but rather the blood of our savior? And when will the partisan critics of the new translation admit the obvious: that this is simply a corrected translation which makes no substantial changes to even the flawed parts of the missal itself?
 
There’s something dreadfully wrong with that approach, and it’s one reason (albeit not the only one) why the lame duck version was a mistake from the get-go. The council authorized limited use of the vernacular. It did not envision liturgical disintegration by “rewriting.” The consilium had arrogance enough to share, and it seems to have poisoned the presumably well-meaning ICEL “translators” who so badly botched their task by paraphrasing if not outright (as you concede) rewriting the missal.
I didn’t mean that the approach I had described (“rewrite for the local language”) was a good idea – hardly; I think it would have been an awful idea – only that it is a theoretically valid approach that could have been chosen. That is to say, it is not inherently wrong; only wrong for a raftload of extrinsic reasons (many of which are described in Liturgiam Authenticam).
I’m sure this doesn’t apply to Mark, [Not at all! – I am waiting for next Advent with bated breath! 👍] but I do find the criticism of the new translation by the people who enthusiastically supported what was done 1965-1969 to be more than a little rich. Did they say “the translation is horrible—that’s just a fact!”? Did they pause to consider that “our spiritual drink” makes no sense in any context, still less when the wine will not become anything so amorphous as a “spiritual drink” but rather the blood of our savior? And when will the partisan critics of the new translation admit the obvious: that this is simply a corrected translation which makes no substantial changes to even the flawed parts of the missal itself?
Well, the Latin is potus spiritualis, so “spiritual drink” is an accurate translation, and in fact will continue to be the translation under the new edition. I couldn’t tell from the above passage whether you knew that, sorry.
 
I’m sorry, but I’m just stating facts.

This applies only to Catholics in the United States, by the way.

I mean come on. “And with your spirit”? That makes no sense in the context we say it in. “Lord I am not worthy that you be under my roof”? Taken from the Gospels, but makes no sense in the context that it’s said in during Mass. And no more “Christ has died, Christ is risen, Christ will come again”? That’s a pretty important thing to say and believe.

The Mass wasn’t too conversational. People should be able to talk to God easily and in language they understand. Now it just sounds too stiff, formal, and makes no sense.
Mass is a solemn experience. We should not be using everyday language.
 
Well, the Latin is potus spiritualis, so “spiritual drink” is an accurate translation, and in fact will continue to be the translation under the new edition. I couldn’t tell from the above passage whether you knew that, sorry.
My remark wasn’t clear, particularly given the context; I was mixing a criticism of the translation with a criticism of the novus ordo itself, which probably wasn’t a good idea. I recognize that it’s the consilium’s rewrite of the offertory that is defective—all-but heretical, to be quite frank, given that its context at least soft-peddles if not subtly denies the real presence—not the translation, which faithfully renders Bugnini’s nonsense into English. It doesn’t become our potus spiritualis. It becomes for us sanguis Christi!
 
My remark wasn’t clear, particularly given the context; I was mixing a criticism of the translation with a criticism of the novus ordo itself, which probably wasn’t a good idea. I recognize that it’s the consilium’s rewrite of the offertory that is defective—all-but heretical, to be quite frank, given that its context at least soft-peddles if not subtly denies the real presence—not the translation, which faithfully renders Bugnini’s nonsense into English. It doesn’t become our potus spiritualis. It becomes for us sanguis Christi!
Potus spiritualis is probably not the language I’d have chosen, but I wonder if you aren’t being a touch too hard here (“all-but heretical”). The Precious Blood is a drink (“my blood is drink indeed”), and I don’t think it’s completely out of line to remark that it is a drink we take not to sustain the body, but to nourish the spirit (“It is the spirit that quickeneth: the flesh profiteth nothing.”). It’s entirely in line with the point that Jesus made distinguishing the manna that our fathers ate and still died from the “living bread” of the Eucharist.
 
Potus spiritualis is probably not the language I’d have chosen, but I wonder if you aren’t being a touch too hard here (“all-but heretical”). The Precious Blood is a drink (“my blood is drink indeed”), and I don’t think it’s completely out of line to remark that it is a drink we take not to sustain the body, but to nourish the spirit (“It is the spirit that quickeneth: the flesh profiteth nothing.”). It’s entirely in line with the point that Jesus made distinguishing the manna that our fathers ate and still died from the “living bread” of the Eucharist.
It’s the context that creates the problem. I agree that it’s a drink, and that it’s in some sense spiritual. If someone talked about a spiritual drink in an academic context, that would be one thing. The context of the offertory, however, is specific: wine is about to become something, but not something so amorphous as a “spiritual drink.” To deny the real presence is heresy, and the novus ordo offertory comes a hair’s breadth from doing so, hiding it behind a bizarre circumlocution in the same category as “damning with faint praise.” Suppose a priest said at that moment: “it will become for us, red.” That would be true, in a sense: after the consecration, the wine will be red (assuming it started that way!), and it will be a spiritual drink, too. But we would sense that something is amiss: that a point is being made through changed emphasis.

That’s just about the only point of dissension that I have from the novus ordo itself. Most of my other beefs are with the translation, and most are rectified in the corrected version.
 
It’s the context that creates the problem. I agree that it’s a drink, and that it’s in some sense spiritual. If someone talked about a spiritual drink in an academic context, that would be one thing. The context of the offertory, however, is specific: wine is about to become something, but not something so amorphous as a “spiritual drink.” To deny the real presence is heresy, and the novus ordo offertory comes a hair’s breadth from doing so, hiding it behind a bizarre circumlocution in the same category as “damning with faint praise.” Suppose a priest said at that moment: “it will become for us, red.” That would be true, in a sense: after the consecration, the wine will be red (assuming it started that way!), and it will be a spiritual drink, too. But we would sense that something is amiss: that a point is being made through changed emphasis.

That’s just about the only point of dissension that I have from the novus ordo itself. Most of my other beefs are with the translation, and most are rectified in the corrected version.
I guess I look at Jesus as explaining two ways to phrase the type of change that takes place at the Consecration. One one hand, Bread → Body, and on the other, Bread → Bread of Life. One expression emphasizes the change the bread undergoes in substance; the other, the change it undergoes in spiritual significance and effect. In the OF, the Institution Narrative focuses on the former change, so it is not entirely out of line that the Offertory should focus on the latter.

Thus, the first portion of the Offertory explains that the “panem, qui tibi offerimus” will become “panis vitae.” But, because Jesus in John’s Gospel mostly discussed the bread and not the wine, Scripture doesn’t really offer a parallel term that would fill in this blank: If the bread becomes the Body of Christ as well as the Bread of Life, then the wine becomes the Blood of Christ as well as the ?. I guess they chose potus spiritualis as the parallel term.

So as that should make clear, there’s no real reason that calling the Blood a “spiritual drink” is any closer to heresy than calling the Body the “Bread of Life.” It doesn’t have the same power, for me at least, as the “immaculate victim” language of the Offertory in the TLM, but there’s a degree of logic and theological basis to it.
 
The liturgical Latin used in the Mass is not “everyday Latin”, it’s not “street Latin”.
If it never was, then why was the first translation into Latin called the Vulgate.
dictionary.reference.com/browse/Vulgate
the Latin version of the Bible, prepared chiefly by Saint Jerome at the end of the 4th century a.d., and used as the authorized version of the Roman Catholic Church.
***Origin: ***
< LL *vulgāta * ( *editiō *) popular (edition); *vulgāta, * fem. ptp. of *vulgāre * to make common, publish, deriv. of *vulgus * the public. See vulgar, -ate1
 
that is the Scriptures, not the Mass
Yes it is; the Sacred Scriptures. Thus we have an example of the Sacred being in the common language.

Where in Sacred Scripture do we see that the Mass or any other ceremony should be in a higher language, or a special language. I read where Jesus instituted the Holy Eucharist in simple, common sentences, but I do not read where Jesus should be an exception and His Church should use more special language.

Furthermore, I was responding to the question of whether the Latin used in the Mass was always that different. If there was a more hoity-toity Latin, then why did St. Jerome not use it? This also casts doubt on the idea that Latin is a monolithic language that never changes, if in fact, there are two Latins, separate and distinct enough to make a fuss over which is used. To each their own, but I find the “high” Latin argument to be flawed nine ways to Sunday.
 
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