Saturday, 21 October 2017

Mass readings in Scots: twenty-ninth Sunday of the Year (Year A)

Gospel reading
Matthew 22: 15-21

Than gaed the Pharisees, an’ teuk rede how they micht fickle him in his talk. An’ they sendet out until him their disciples wi’ the Herodians, sayin’, "Maister, we ken that thou art true, an’ teachest the way o’ God in truth, neither carest thou for ony man: for thou regardestna the person o’ men. Tell us therefore, What thinkest thou? Is it lawfu' to gie stent until Caesar, or no?" But Jesus perceivet their wicketness, an’ said, "Why temp’ ye me, ye hypocrites? Shaw me the stent-money." An’ they broucht until him a penny. An’ he saith until them, "Whase is this image an’ the writin’ aboon?" They say until him, "Caesar’s." Syne saith he until them, "Gie therefore until Caesar the things whilk are Caesar’s, an’ until God the things whilk are God’s."

[From The Gospel of St. Matthew, Translated Into Lowland Scotch, by George Henderson (1862) here]

Saturday, 14 October 2017

Mass readings in Scots: Twenty-eighth Sunday of Year (Year A)

Gospel reading
Matthew 22: 1-14

[Jesus spak' until the chief priests an' the elders o' the people:] "The kingdom o’ heaven is like until a certain king, wha made a bridal for his son, an’ sendet furth his servan’s to ca’ them wha were bidden til the waddin’; and they wadna come. . 4 Again, he sendet furth ither servan’s, sayin’, 'Tell thae wha are bidden, behald, I hae preparet my dinner; my owsen an’ my fatlin’s are killet, an’ a’ things are ready: come until the bridal.' But they made licht o’t, an’ gaed their gates, ane til his mailen, anither til his merchandice, an’ the lave teuk his servan’s, an’ treated them spitefully, an’ killet them. But whan the king hear’t o’t, he was wrathfu’; an’ he sendet furth his sodgers, an’ destroyet thae murderers, an’ brunt up their toun. Syne saith he til his servan’s, 'The waddin’ is ready, but they wha were bidden werena wordy. Gang ye therefore intil the highways, an’ as mony as ye sall fin’, bid them til the feast.' Sae thae servan’s gaed out intil the highways, an’ gather’t thegither a’ as mony as they fand, baith bad an’ guid: an’ the waddin’ was bodin wi’ guests. An’ whan the king cam’ in to see the guests, he saw there a man wha hadna on a waddin’ garment. An’ he saith until him, 'Frien’, how camest thou in here no haein’ on a waddin’ garment?' An’ he was dumbfoun’er’t. Syne said the king til the servan’s, 'Bin’ him han’ an’ fit, an’ tak’ him awa, an’ cast him intil outer mirkness: there sall be greetin’ an’ runchin’ o’ teeth.' For mony are ca’d, but few are wal’d."

[From The Gospel of St. Matthew, Translated Into Lowland Scotch, by George Henderson (1862) here]

Saturday, 7 October 2017

Mass readings in Scots: Twenty-seventh Sunday of the Year (Year A)

Gospel reading
Matthew 21:33-43

[Jesus said untill the chief priests an' the elders o' the peeple,] "Hear anither parable: Ther was ane certain houshaulder whilk plantet ane vinyaird, an’ hedget it roun’ about, an’ howket ane wine-press in it, an’ bigget ane touer, an’ let it out til husbanmen, an’ gaed intill аne fer countrie. An’ whan the time o’ the frut drew neer, he sendet his servents til the husbanmen, that they micht receive the fruts o’ it. An’ the husbanmen tuik his servents an’ nevellet ane, an’ killet anither, an’ stanet anither. Agane he sendet ither servents mair nor the first: an’ they did untill them likewaise. But last o’ a’ he sendet untill them his son, sayin’, 'They wull reverance my son.' But whan the husbanmen sаw the son, they said amang themsels, 'This is the heir; come, let us kill him, an’ let us seeze on his heirscep.' An’ they grippet him, an’ castet him out o’ the vinyaird, an’ sleyet him. Whan the lord therfor o’ the vinyaird comith, what wull he do til thae husbanmen?" They say untill him, "Нe wull miserablie destroye thae wicket men, an’ wull let out his vinyaird untill ither husbanmen, whilk sall render him the fruts in their seasens." Jesus saith untill them, "Did ye nevir reæd in the Scripturs,

The stane whilk the biggers rejecket,
the same is become the cape stane o’ the nuik:
this is the Lord’s doin’,
an’ it is marvellous in our eyne?

"Therfor say I untill yow, The kingdoom o’ God sall be taken frae yow, an’ gien til ane natione bringin’ furth the fruts thero’."

The Gospel of St. Matthew in Lowland Scotch, from the English Authorised Version. By H. S. Riddell (1856) here