Over at “Adventures in Translation,” I have updated the article to list seven different reasons why translators using the transliterated term eucharistized were doing so inappropriately.

If you read that article, then you know that translators are hardly neutral and unbiased. Yet prior to my pair of articles on translations (on Justin Martyr and on Ignatius), I had never examined trends in translation, and I had never seen anyone else do it either. Very few people are checking the work of translators. I’m not aware of anyone else performing this kind of analysis.

Most people just trust that translators are translating more-or-less fairly. But this is clearly not the case. This is especially true outside of the highly scrutinized Bible translations, in niche areas of translation. And, it is especially true of the texts that pertain to the Catholic Eucharist, as my series shows. The bias is systemic and, as we’ve seen, systematic at times.

I’ve received a certain criticism many times over the years, something like this:

One of the primary takeaways of this examination of translators and their translations is that you when you talk about obscure translations (e.g. the early writings of the church), you can’t trust any of them. There are simply too many translators who will freely translate according to their personal theology. But, more importantly, there are simply too few watchers watching the watchmen.

The fact of the matter is that a lot of the time that you find suspect theology in the early writings of the church, you will find invalid translation, authenticity, or scholarship. It is precisely when you see a theology that doesn’t cohere with scripture that you should be ready to object. This is wisdom. Those who reject sola scriptura set themselves up to be duped. That is most unwise.

The default viewpoint, then, is that all translations are biased towards a particular theology. Every translation is potentially objectionable. Thus, it is far worse to have never objected to any translation, to be credulous.

Do you know what’s worse than that? To affirmatively defend the suspect translations of Justin Martyr because that is the only way to find one’s preferred theology in Justin Martyr.

Modern Catholic, Orthodox, and Anglican theology surrounding the Lord’s Supper cannot be found in an unbiased, direct translation of Justin Martyr. If translated fairly, these denominations are forced to conclude that their theology cannot be found in the early church. This is devastating to their claims.

Now, let’s review the literal translation of Justin Martyr. This is as close to the original word order as I could make it:

It’s pretty easy to understand what this is saying, but the literal Greek word order is a bit awkward in English. Consider what happens if we rearrange it a bit to fit better with English word order:

This describes (at least) two separate liturgical acts.

The first liturgical act is giving thanks for the food, which nourishes the body. This is the eucharist (‘giving thanks’) proper. It also tells you that this (unconsecrated) thanked food was eaten for nourishment in this state (some would call this the ‘agape meal’). This eucharist refers to the sacrificial offering of tithes and gifts by the church to feed those in need.

The second liturgical act is the consecration (initiated by reciting ‘this is my body…this is my blood’) of that food to be the flesh and blood of Jesus. This is the Lord’s Supper proper. This tells you that the (consecrated; already sacrificed) food was eaten in remembrance (what many call ‘communion’).

This is not unprecedented. Both liturgical acts are described separately in the New Testament as well.^[1] In fact, Justin Martyr mentions this very thing in the very next sentence:

Justin explicitly notes that Jesus had given thanks prior to stating the words “this is my body…this is my blood.”^[1] The thanks—modeled directly off the Old Testament sacrifice of thanksgiving—preceded what is now called by some “the words of institution.” Notably, Justin also emphasizes that the Lord’s Supper is a remembrance.

Now, recall the quotation from Waterland that we looked at in Part 1.

This is quite revealing. When Waterland says…

…he is letting you know that he explicitly rejects this idea of two separate liturgical acts that Justin Martyr literally describes (in conformance with the gospels).

This is the entire reason that the transliterated term eucharistized is used “not improperly” by so many modern translators.^[2] Modern translators cannot accept that Justin Martyr’s liturgy separated the two acts, so they quite improperly utilize a transliterated term in place of a translation to expressly eliminate that possibility. That’s because if you, the reader, understood what the term meant, you would also see two liturgical acts and you’d understand what Justin Martyr was actually saying.

For many translators and their denominations, this is unacceptable.

So how do translators sleep at night? It is simple. A transliteration isn’t a direct lie. The original text really does use a word like eucharistized. Technically, the translators are not lying. They are actually not doing anything with the word, just sort-of leaving it as-is.

But of course, they know what the transliterated word means and they know how readers will understand the anglicized (‘-ed’) word. And so without strictly lying, they are passively deceiving you, the reader. And they know exactly what they are doing. It’s a lie by omission, which serves to erode trust in translators.

Footnotes

^[1] Scripture describes a meal that is already underway when “the words of institution” were spoken:

Matthew and Mark explicitly place the blessing during the meal, whereas Luke and Paul only describe thanksgiving before the bread is broken and distributed. Notably, all of them place the thanksgiving prior to the breaking of bread and the breaking of bread prior to the words “this is my body…this is my blood.” Notably, this ordering is invariant.

The giving of thanks is separated from the so-called “words of institution” by the breaking of bread. The “breaking of bread” is a common Hebrew idiom for eating a meal together. The use of the idiom here is one reason why we understand Jesus to have given thanks prior to eating the meal at the Last Supper, rather than him giving thanks at the same time he spoke the words “this is my body…this is my blood.” We see no indication in the Bible or in the early writings that anyone thought they were one liturgical act. The thanksgiving always preceded the so-called “words of institution.”

This is further confirmed by the fact that Jesus also gave thanks before breaking the bread in the feeding of the five thousand (Matthew 14:19; Mark 6:41; Luke 9:16; John 6:11), the feeding of the four thousand (Matthew 15:36; Mark 8:6), and at Emmaus after the resurrection (Luke 24:30). The Apostle Paul also gave thanks before eating in Acts 27:35.

It is generally understood that it was common practice for Jesus to give thanks prior to eating, following the well-established Jewish cultural and ritual practice from the Second Temple period (from 516BC to 70AD).

Strictly speaking, Jesus is only recorded as giving thanks prior to distributing food. Jesus is never recorded as giving thanks prior to simply providing himself with food, it is always a distribution to—or sharing with—others. This is in keeping with the idea of offering food as a sacrifice. Notably, under the Law, the offered food had to be sacrificed before it could, ultimately, be distributed and a meal eaten.

Nowhere in the Old Testament or the New Testament is there a suggestion that the eucharist (the thanksgiving offering) is ritually associated with the Passover or the (so-called) “words of institution.” The thanksgiving sacrifice and the Passover celebration are distinct acts in the Law, distinct acts in the accounts of the Lord’s Supper in the New Testament, and continue to be distinct acts in the writings of the early church found in the first three centuries.

One of the key questions of liturgical history is this:

This is a surprisingly difficult question to answer. On the other hand, this question is easy:

^[2] In saying that it was used “not improperly,” Waterland showed that he well-understood the apparent impropriety of what he was suggesting. His attempt to front-run criticism by preemptively rationalizing it is not convincing.