Lost in Translation #170
After praying the Domine Jesu Christe, the priest prays:
Perceptio Corporis tui, Domine Jesu Christe, quod ego indignus sumere praesumo, non mihi proveniat in judicium et condemnationem: sed pro tua pietate prosit mihi ad tutamentum mentis et corporis, et ad medelam percipiendam: Qui vivis et regnas cum Deo Patre in unitate Spiritus Sancti Deus, per omnia saecula saeculorum. Amen.
Which I translate as:
May the reception of Thy Body, O Lord, Jesus Christ, which I, who am unworthy, presume to consume, turn out not to be a judgement and condemnation of me; but on account of Thy mercy may it be profitable to me as a protection for soul and body and as a cure to be applied; Who with God the Father, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, livest and reignest, God forever and ever. Amen.
Like the prayer that precedes it, the Perceptio Corporis is a product of the Carolingian renaissance but a century later (tenth). Its structure is almost chiastic and its wordplay virtually untranslatable. The first and last words (prior to the adjuration Qui vivis) are both from percipio (perceptio and percipiendam); the verbs proveniat and prosit (translated here as “turn out” and “be profitable,” respectively) are similar insofar as both can also mean “to prosper”; and the two frightful things in the first half of the petition, judgment and condemnation, are juxtaposed with the two desirable things in the second half, protection and cure. Just as judgment can lead to condemnation, protection leads to healing.
As for the wordplay: Perceptio (per+capio) simply means “reception,” but it has a strong etymology. Capio already means “to take wholly, to seize entirely,” and per as a prefix makes it even more intense. It is difficult to imagine a more thorough way of receiving something than by consuming it entirely. The priest’s physical consumption of the Eucharist is expanded upon with its intended spiritual effect, as a cure to be taken in (ad medelam percipiendam). I do not blame the 2011 ICEL translation for rendering this phrase “healing remedy,” since it is so strange.
There is also a word-play with sumere praesumo, which I have translated as “presume to consume.”
Prosit, to be beneficial or useful, is a fine choice since it is often used with respect to medicines. The prayer, which is inspired by St. Paul’s dire warning about receiving the Eucharist unworthily, (1 Cor. 11, 29) recognizes that the Sacrament is like the Greek pharmakon, which can mean both poison and cure (much depends on the condition of the recipient). The use of this word also recalls the custom of the priest saying to the servers in the sacristy after Mass: Prosit or “May [the sacrifice of the Mass] be beneficial.” To which they reply: Pro omnibus et singulis or “In each and every way.”
Pietas is a concept that figures greatly in Latin literature. For Vergil at least, it is the signature virtue of the Romans (as we see in his hero pius Aeneas), where pietas signifies loyalty to one’s gods, one’s family, and one’s country. Similarly in some Christian Latin, pietas is a proper respect or attitude that the believer has towards God; it is both a moral virtue and one of the seven gifts of the Holy Spirit.

But Christianity also added a new and revolutionary meaning to the word by turning the tables and applying it to God’s attitude to man, namely, an attitude of lovingkindness or mercy. Whereas most Christian literature favors the “human” meaning over the “divine” (the sermons of Pope St. Leo the Great, pietas is used fifty-three times as a human attitude or habit and only seven times as a divine quality), in liturgical Latin it is the opposite; in the Orations of the Mass, pietas is used twenty-seven times in reference to God and three times in reference to man. [Ellebracht, 53] The use of pietas here follows the conventions of liturgical Latin.
As for the concluding adjuration (which both this prayer and the one that comes before it has in common), the most remarkable thing about it is that it is there at all. Even though Christ the living God is present on the altar inches away, the priest is focused on Christ’s living and reigning in Heaven with the Father and the Holy Spirit. As Jungmann astutely notes,
The idea of the heavenly Christ and his heavenly existence is so strong that it is not eclipsed even by the sacramental nearness… The mood which prevails in the popular devotion since the late Middle Ages—that mood here was stopped short and not permitted to turn the reception of Communion into a meditative visit to the Blessed Sacrament. Instead, a complete view of the Christian world of faith is maintained and not even in the moment of reception is it forsaken in favor of a partial view. [Jungmann, vol. 2, 349]
The 1970/2002 Missal, incidentally, allows the celebrant to choose between the prayers Domine Jesu Christe and the Perceptio Corporis tui or to say them both. The closing adjurations have been removed from both prayers. Two additional changes were made to the Perceptio Corporis tui: 1) et Sanguinis tui (“and of Thy blood”) was inserted after Perceptio Corporis; and 2) the penitential line quod ego indignus sumere praesumo was removed. The 2011 ICEL translation is :
May the receiving of your Body and Blood,
Lord Jesus Christ,
not bring me to judgment and condemnation,
but through your loving mercy
be for me protection in mind and body
and a healing remedy.