SMALL JEWELS: HOW AND WHAT THEY MEAN

Reciting Collects, those intricate small jewels of language and piety, I sometimes make myself slow down and think about the words and their meanings. For example, consider the Second Collect for Morning Prayer:

O God, who art the author of peace and lover of concord, in knowledge of whom standeth our eternal life, whose service is  perfect freedom: defend us thy humble servants in all assaults of our enemies, that we surely trusting in thy defence may not fear the power of any adversaries; through Jesus Christ our Lord. 

And the original:

Deus auctor pacis et amator, quem nosse, vivere; cui servire, regnare est : protege ab omni oppugnatione suppleces tuos, ut qui in tua protectione confidimus, nullius hostilitatis arma timeamus. Per Christum Dominum nostrum. Amen.

It’s fascinating, first of all, to see what Cranmer has done with the Acknowledgement, the relative clause naming the relevant qualities of the Deity. The Latin, with its incomparable brevity, says: God, author and lover of peace, whom to know is to live and to serve is to reign… In this case, Cranmer with his “author of peace and lover of concord” expands the Latin, in my opinion for the sake of the rhythm (with the implication, interesting in itself, that peace and concord are perfect synonyms). He then expands the second term to “in knowledge of whom standeth our eternal life”, thus explaining the bald vivere; and the third term to “whose service is perfect freedom”. This last is where he exercises the greatest liberty: he seems to have found regnarea little too extreme (perhaps with the possible wrath of Henry VIII in mind), and so replaces it with “perfect freedom”, which could, in a pinch, be described as a synonym, as only a ruler is completely free to act. (Incidentally, Milton may have had the Latin Collect and its verbal oxymoron in mind when he wrote that it is “better to reign in Hell than serve in Heaven”.)

In the Petition, he translates supplecesas “humble servants” while the Latin more strictly means “those who beseech” or  “those who humbly request”; and to the danger from which they ask to be protected, the simple oppugnatio, attack or assault, he adds the enemies (implicit in the Latin), again I think for the sake of rhythm. 

Then, in the Aspiration, he emphasizes confidimusby adding “surely” (with 16^th-century overtones of “safely”, “securely”, “loyally”, “steadfastly”, and “confidently”); and changes the “weapons of any conflict” to “power of any adversaries”, generalizing the first term and particularizing the second. And even though he has shown himself sensitive to rhythm, in this case he does not attempt to copy or represent the Latin’s elegant combination of a cursus tardus(protectióne confídimus) with a cursus velox(árma timeámus). 

On the whole, Cranmer’s meaning follows the Latin; and what I find fascinating is what we ask to be protected against, and why: defend us in, protect us against, assaults, but not so that we may have a quiet life but so that we may not fear. The point of the whole Collect, in other words, is a prayer against fear. And in the light of the Acknowledgement, the removal of fear will in turn facilitate the knowledge of God that gives us eternal life, and His service that confers perfect freedom. As so often in the case of these orationesthe text, as compact and elegant as a sonnet, when suitably parsed gives us the spiritual wealth of an entire homily.