The early teen years are a time when charming misinformation is passed on from kid to kid with the solemn, easy assurance of time-tested wisdom. “Schnauzer” is a dirty word in German. The F-word is an acronym meaning “For Unlawful Carnal Knowledge” (in fact, that became a Van Halen album title towards the end of the Sammy Hagar era). And KISS, the name of the rock supergroup, stands for “Knights In Satan’s Service”.
Eventually we learn better.
Schnauzer, in fact, comes from
Schnauze, meaning “snout”. Although the actual root of the f-bomb is
uncertain, enough cognates abound in the Germanic languages that it most likely
comes to us from a common Indo-European stem through Anglo-Saxon. And, according to Wikipedia, guitarist and
founding member Paul Stanley first suggested the name “Kiss” when original
drummer Peter Criss mentioned that he’d been in a band named Lips; at one
point, founding bassist Gene Simmons claimed it stood for the old rule about
sales pitches: “Keep It Simple, Stupid!”
And yet, though we tell ourselves (and each other) that
there’s nothing so stupid or counterfactual people won’t believe it if you
repeat it often enough, in the main we fail to erect mental checkpoints where
new data can wait for validation before they’re added to our lists of “everybody
knows that” truths. I’m sure most of us
have listened or read as some blowhard confidently preceded some assertion of patent
folly with the words, “Science has proven that ….” Usually, this means one of three things:
- “Some recent study/experiment, using dubious methods and/or inappropriate measures, claims that …;” or
- “Although this theory can’t be tested under our current technical limitations, some scientists take it for granted that …;” or
- “Famous Scientist says that ….” (Because, of course, Scientists never get stuff wrong, or speak on subjects about which they know bubkes.)
One way you can tell a Protestant Bible from a Catholic
Bible is to turn to Matthew 6:7:
But when ye pray, use not vain repetitions, as the heathen do: for they think that they shall be heard for their much speaking (KJV).And when you are praying, speak not much, as the heathens. For they think that in their much speaking they may be heard (Douay).In praying, don’t use vain repetitions, as the Gentiles do; for they think that they will be heard for their much speaking (WEB).In praying, do not babble like the pagans, who think that they will be heard because of their many words (NAB).And when you are praying, do not use meaningless repetition as the Gentiles do, for they suppose that they will be heard for their many words (NASB).In your prayers do not babble as the gentiles do, for they think that by using many words they will make themselves heard (NJB).
In fairness, both the Revised Standard Version and the New
International Version avoid the word “repetition”; many Catholics use a
Catholic edition of RSV. In general,
though, if it says “vain/meaningless repetition”, it’s a Protestant Bible.
The Greek word beneath this conflict is battalogeō, “to stammer”. Supposedly derived from the name of a
Cyrenean king who stuttered, or from the name of a bad poet, battalogeō can indicate repetition. It can
also indicate babbling, the endless
blathering of the crashing bore that’s cornered you at a cocktail party or the
presentation at work you just can’t get out of except by faking major trauma.
Babbling and repetition — not quite the same thing, even if
described by the same word. Fortunately,
though, there’s another word in the verse that helps us decide the issue: polylogia. Created from the stem polys (many) and logos
(word), it’s often translated as “much speaking”, a clumsily imported construct;
a better single word to capture the idea is “verbosity”. In speaking of this verse, St. Augustine of
Hippo wrote, “And in reality, every kind of much speaking comes from the
Gentiles, who make it their endeavour to exercise the tongue rather than to
cleanse the heart” (On the Sermon on the Mount
2:3:12).
St. John Chrysostom points us to the parable of the widow
and the unjust judge (Lk 18:1-8), which like the simile of the importunate
friend (Lk 11:5-8) emphasizes the need for persistence in prayer (Homilies on Matthew
19:5). We are not merely to ask, seek or
knock, but to keep asking, keep seeking and keep knocking (Mt 7:7; Lk 11:9).
Common sense should tell you that, if you’re to ask for something not
just once but continually, you’ll repeat yourself in essence even if you manage
to say your prayer a different way each time.
Moreover, Jesus follows this injunction with the instruction,
“Pray like this” … and gives us the Our Father (Mt 6:9-13), not only for its
own sake but also as a model for other prayers.
As a model, its unique feature is its brevity, giving praise to God and
asking for our needfuls in just over fifty words. Not quite what we Catholics call an aspiration (a traditional
prayer that can be said in one breath), but definitely stripped down to
essentials.
Given the context and the rest of Jesus’ teachings about
prayer, babble translates battalogeō in this verse much more
effectively and reasonably, capturing the emptiness and futility of the prophets
of Baal crying to their god as they cut themselves (1 Kgs 18:25-29). It also captures the annoying quality of the
Christian who makes a complete hash out of the simple act of saying grace at a large
gathering by gassing on about all the things the assembled should be grateful
for while the gravy congeals and the butter melts.
Keep it simple, stupid.
So why would anyone insist on vain repetition? Quite
simple: So they can say Jesus disapproved of Catholic devotions like the rosary
and the Divine Mercy Chaplet, which involve cycles of repeated prayers. Because sola
scriptura allows anyone with a battered King
James Bible and ninth-grade reading skills to set himself up as a Religious
Authority.
And because any error repeated long and often enough will find
people who treat it as unquestionable dogma.
