Indeed or Truly? A brief response to Father John Whiteford.

I was sent this link to a short Q&A from the blog of a Nikonian priest on the topic of whether it is better to say Indeed or Truly. Just so everyone knows what we are talking about, during the Paschal season, Christians greet one another with the proclamation “Christ is risen!”. In response, the other Christian will either say “Truly He is risen!” or “Indeed He is risen!” I have encountered both, and the practice seems to vary among New Believers based on what jurisdiction they are in, or by parish. While it doesn’t matter which word you choose, nevertheless, I have encountered people who insist that theirs is the correct word, and the other should not be used (from the “Truly” camp, by the way). I would like to take this opportunity to offer a response to the answer given by Father John Whiteford, who is otherwise a prolific provider of new-rite liturgical material in English, and has been no small help to non-Russian speaking converts to the new-rite. Yet his response to this question struck me as quite lacking. Here it is:

Question: "Why do some Orthodox respond to "Christ is Risen!" with "Indeed He is Risen!" but others say, "Truly He is Risen!"? Which one is correct?"

Both responses are perfectly good translations of the responses in Greek and Slavonic. But "Truly He is Risen!" is most likely based on the Greek response, and "Indeed He is Risen!" is most likely based on the Slavonic.

The oldest English Orthodox text of the Paschal services that I have been able to find actually differs slightly from both. The Service book of the Holy Orthodox-Catholic Apostolic Church, which was translated by. Isabel Hapgood, and was originally published in 1906, and then published in a corrected edition in 1922, uses the phrase: "He is risen indeed!"

In Greek, the response is Alithos Anesti! (Αληθώς Ανέστη!), and the most natural translation of the Greek word "Alithos" would be "Truly." However, in Slavonic the response is Voistinu Voskrese! (Воистину Воскрес!), and the word "Воистину" has the prefix, "Во" which means "in" followed by "истину" which means "truth." So you could translate it literally as "In Truth," but "Indeed" is probably a more elegant way to translate it. In any case, that is how Isabell Hapgood translated it, and although we did not keep her phrasing exactly, it probably influenced the form we now commonly use.

I hope someone writes a good book on the history of English translations of Orthodox liturgical texts, because you can see that usage has evolved. For example, Hapgood translated "Theotokos" as "Birth giver of God," which is a good literal translation, but most English speaking Orthodox today simply use "Theotokos," which has been in English usage as theological term since at least 1868. On the other hand, it is interesting that Hapgood's translation of the Paschal Troparion ("Christ is risen from the dead, trampling down death by death, and upon those in the tombs bestowing life") is what is most commonly used today. So over time, what seems to work best in English bubbles to the surface, and we settle on particular translations.

To imply that the difference between the two words is a result of the source languages does not hold up to scrutiny. He is correct in pointing out that the Slavonic word begins with the prefix “in”, but that the Greek word leans toward one translation or another is not convincing. Alithos is ambiguous, and also seems to begin with a negative prefix. That is a dead-end, in my opinion.

But then he has a much more sensible idea - to look at what the older English translators used, for it is, to me, an indisputable fact that the English language has not simply changed toward its modern form, but degenerated as a language best equipped to literally convey the Scriptures from a time period that found itself most suited - the 16th century. But in doing this, Whiteford turns to the oldest English translation we have…of Orthodox liturgical material (huh?), which is only from the early 20th century.

I will grant that this is an innocent oversight (I hope), but the Paschal greeting and response do not find their origin in liturgical composition, but the Holy Gospels. And herein the situation becomes more clear. In Luke 24:34, we see the answer to the Angel’s greeting to the Myrrh-bearing women. Here are the historically important versions, chronologically:

Wycliffe. 1395: “the Lord is risun verrili, and apperide to Symount.

Tyndale. 1527: “the Lorde is rysen in dede and hath apered to Simon.”

Coverdale. 1535: “The Lorde is rysen of a trueth, and hath appeared vnto Symon.”

Great Bible (also Coverdale). 1539: “the Lorde is rysen in dede, & hath apered to Symon.”

Bishops Bible. 1572: “The Lord is rysen in deede, and hath appeared to Simon.”

Rheims New Testament (the real Rheims). 1582: “our Lord is risen in deede, and hath appeared to Simon.”

Geneva Bible. 1587: “The Lord is risen in deede, and hath appeared to Simon.”

King James. 1611: “The Lord is risen indeed, and hath appeared to Simon.”

Of all these, comprising the fullness of the English tradition from both the Prostestants and the Roman Catholics, we see an almost complete agreement. Only Wycliffe, who I included for thoroughness, uses “verily”, which is in keeping with the Latin: “Quod surrexit Dominus vere”. Coverdale only, in his first translation, comes close to “Truly” with “of a truth”, but in all his many subsequent translations, he sticks to “in deed”.

The Greek word in the Gospel, which was utilized for the majority of the above translations, is ὄντως, as in “ontological”.

Again, both are valid choices. But in considering the literal meanings, the Gospel was confirming that Christ is risen, not allegorically, not only spiritually, not symbolically, all of which may be expressed with the word “truly”; He is risen, not only in the word (as above), but in deed, that is to say, in an actual, literal, ontological, physical resurrection.

So, I will, without hesitation, cast my vote for “indeed”, indeed.

As an aside, Hapgood’s liturgical translations are, unfortunately, still the best English the Orthodox world has. The 20th century saw a horrifying rate of linguistic decay, in terms of its capacity for elegant expression, which has manifested in many ways in subsequent translations of liturgical texts. Even ones that try to maintain “traditional” English often do so in such an artificial way as to cheapen the text and obscure its meaning, as in the Brookline Psalter. Like our culture and the society that lives within it, our language is, sadly, past its prime.