Whooping as our sacrifice
I had to rush this when I first sent it with a terrible Freudian slip in the title: `”Whooping a sour sacrifice!!”. The Latin for the key phrase is `”holocausta jubilationis”. Jubilation, as verb and noun, is found all over the Psalms, and every time he encountered it, Augustine explained it meant the sound of exultation that people make when they experience a joy that is beyond words. So I started thinking about what the English word for this is, and I came up with “whooping”. When I used it once in a sermon, a woman asked for a copy because, she said, it was the first homily her teen-aged son had expressed any interest in! Cause for whooping there!!
I have gone round, and in his tent have offered up a sacrifice of whooping (Ps 26, 6). We are offering a sacrifice of whooping; we are offering a sacrifice of joy, a sacrifice of , a sacrifice of thanksgiving that cannot be expressed in words. And where do we offer it? In God’s own tent, in holy Church. What do we offer? An utterly abounding and inexpressible joy, beyond words, inexpressible. This is our sacrifice of whooping.
Where was it sought? Where was it found? By going round. I have gone round, the Psalmist says, and in his tent have offered up a sacrifice of whooping. Let your mind go round the whole of creation: everywhere creation will cry to you: “God made me.” Whatever delights you in the work of art commends the artist; the more you go round the universe, reflection brings forth praise of the maker. You see the heavens, the great works of God. You see the earth: God made the many seeds, the different plants, the many animals. Go again around the heavens and back to earth, leaving nothing out. Everywhere all creatures re-echo their maker, and the very kinds of creatures are voices praising their creator. But who can unfold all of creation? Who can set it out with proper praise? Who will worthily praise heaven and earth, the sea, and all the things in them? And besides all these visible things, who will worthily praise the angels, the thrones, the dominations, the principalities, and the powers? Who will worthily praise that which lives within us, giving life to the body, moving its members, making use of its senses, and embracing so much in its memory, discerning so many things by its intelligence–who will worthily praise that. But if human speech labors so much with regard to God’s creatures, what can it do with regard to the Creator? Words failing, all that is left is whooping. I have gone round, and in your tent I have offered a sacrifice of whooping. (Augustine, Enarr. in Ps 26-2, 12; PL 36, 205-206))
Joe, somewhat apropos of this translation, in last Sunday’s NYT Book review I wrote a review of Garry Wills latest book on the Gospels (in which he relies heavily and usefully on Raymond Brown). One cavil that I had–without of course being able to back up my claim with any knowledge of marketplace Greek–was Wills’ decision on a couple of translations. One was to say that the Word became flesh “and bivouacked among us.” Sounds too much like Paris Island. The other was to render (so to speak) the fatted calf as the “pampered” calf, which sounds like a spa day. I reserve the right to be off base on both. They just seemed too distracting. Perhaps all new-ish translations are distracting until they are not. “Whooping” is a bit edgy for me–I am a traditionalist at heart–but I like the impulse. And ululating is probably out.
David:
You’re not the only one who doesn’t like the whooping. I’m at a conference in Quebec City with an Augustinian scholar, and he felt it was “secularizing” jubilatio.
There is an old English verb: to jubilate–but I don’t think we’ll get too far with “Jubilate to the Lord, all the earth!” Other translations I’ve seen: “Sing to the Lord!” “Make a joyful noise to the Lord!” without identifying what the joyful noise might sound like!
I’m old enough to remember Jubilation T. Cornpone–a character in L’il Abner, if I’m not mistaken, but I probably have to explain who L’il Abner was.
There’s a scene in “The Apostle” in which the Apostle addresses his black congregation and urges them to sing and sway, and he says: “We’re not among the frozen Chosen!” So it doesn’t hurt to be remindered that neither were the ancient Hebrews, and probably not Augustine’s congregations either. Can I hear an Amen?
Amen! Especially on “The Apostle,” one of the best films on faith. Jubilate.
Fr. Komonchak,
I am unable to find the combination holocausta jubilationisin the Vulgate of the Psalms. Did you mean to write hostiam jubilationis, as it is in Migne 36, 205-206?. Did Augustine take it from the Old Latin?
Mr. Mitchell:
You are correct–it must have been a trick of my memory. I got the text from Migne, too; it should be “hostiam jubilationis.” What do you think of translating it as “whooping”? I found another text which I’ll pass on in the next day or two.
Fr. Komonchak,
Thanks for the reply and clarification.
As for the translation, I think that under the principle of dynamic equivalence you could not get a more dynamic equivalent for hostiam jubilationis than “a sacrifice of whooping.” Well done!
I actually think that it’s a literal translation. I just sent another quote of similar character, in which Douai-Rheims translated “in jubilatione” as “with a loud noise”.