Thursday, June 23, 2016

"Verily, Verily," or Should I Say, "Truly, Truly"


(This is a slightly updated version of an essay I wrote some time ago.)
On a trip to Austin, I visited a used bookstore—not an unusual activity for me.  While there, I overheard a conversation between two young men—eavesdropping, alas, is also not an unusual activity for me.
One of the young men was helping the other find a Bible.  I assume the second young man was a new believer or someone interested in finding out more about Christianity.  The young man guiding the search pointed out the various options the available Bibles had, such as concordances and reference notes.  I had just about tuned out the conversation when the guide said, “Now, this is the King James Version.  Don’t get it; it’s crap.” 
Now, in American slang that term is often used for “rubbish,” “junk,” ”shoddy,” or “trash.”  So, the young guide to Bible choice was saying one of the most influential books in the history of English was worthless.  I was amazed at that assessment of the first translation I ever read, the only translation my father ever owned, the translation used by Edwards, Wesley, Finney, Moody, and countless lesser-known preachers proclaiming the good news; the translation that sustained and comforted Christians for four centuries.  Perhaps, he was only attempting to let his light shine before his young friend in pointing him toward finding what would become a lamp unto his feet.  Actually, I think it was the problem of enthusiastic ignorance.
As I thought about the conversation I recalled an incident that occurred years ago when I was a pastor in Texas.  A young couple, Steve and Jen, and their two children began attending our church.  I visited them in their home on the remote corner of a local ranch.  It was a modest little house built to be the home for a “hand” and his family.  The family appeared to be thriving.  The house was comfortably furnished and there was even money for extras like karate lessons.
I enjoyed my first visit to their home, especially because they had such good things to say about the church and my preaching.  My second visit was different.
The family attended our services for only one or two more weeks then suddenly stopped coming.    I called after they had missed two Sundays and talked with Jen.  She briskly told me they would not be coming back.
This differed so much from their earlier attitude I felt I had to find out what had soured them toward the church.  When I asked if I could visit them again, Jen said I could but I should not expect to change their minds.
The greeting I received on the second visit was more cordial than I expected but both Steve and Jen seemed distant.
I asked, “Have I said or done something to offend you?”
Steve spoke, “It’s that Bible you use.  It’s not the real Bible.  It takes out part of the Bible.”
I tried to assure him the New International Version was a reliable translation but he was unconvinced.
“The King James Version,” he said, “is the only real Bible.  All these new translations have parts missing.  They can’t be trusted.”
“What makes you think that,” I asked.
“My karate teacher told me,” he said, making it clear there would be no argument I could raise to overrule his Sensei. 
This was a few years before The Karate Kid so I was unaware karate instructors also functioned as philosophers, counselors, and, in this case, theologians.
My Austin experience suggested we had gone full-circle.  To Steve, the NIV was “crap” and the KJV was solid gold; to the anonymous Bible reviewer in Austin, the KJV was “crap” and the NIV was—actually he dismissed the NIV, calling it “old-school.”  The two Bible hunters left before finding a Bible and before I discovered which of the many translations available the “expert” favored.
Helping a new convert or a seeker find a Bible is a good thing; sowing seeds of ignorance is not so good.
Some of my fellow pastors graduated seminary thoroughly proficient in Greek and, sometimes, Hebrew.  They can read the original texts with little or no help.  I managed to pass the required courses.  Perhaps as a consequence I’ve surrounded myself with various translations.  I own dozens, some of them rare and hard to find.  I often quote them in my preaching to give nuances to familiar verses.  My fondness for varied translations made me doubly interested in the conversation I overheard in Austin.  (Okay, deliberately listened to.)
Now, the obvious cure for ignorance is knowledge.  So, I would have loved the opportunity to sit down with those four young people-Steve, the Bible “expert,” the new convert/seeker, and Jen—so I could explain that the KJV in the seventeenth century and the NIV in the twentieth century were produced by a collection of the finest scholars available, who were all committed to the task of producing a faithful and accessible translation of the Bible.  Faithful and accessible.  
Some of the KJV’s translators were models of piety; some were not (Richard Thomson, who helped translate Genesis through 2 Kings, was “a party hound” who often went to bed drunk.[1] Thomson also appears to have been an Arminian which in some circles today would have caused a greater scandal than his drinking would have).  All but one of the fifty-four translators were ordained; some regularly preached before royalty, some labored quietly in their studies; one would serve as Archbishop of Canterbury and be charged with manslaughter (acquitted); some were young, some were old; and, for at least one, English was his second language.[2]
I would have explained a few phrases, some verses, and the occasional passage found in the KJV are missing in the NIV and other newer translations; missing, because later scholars concluded they should have never been there in the first place.  The long ending of Mark is probably the most noteworthy example.  I would have explained that losing these passages changed no Christian doctrine, unless handling snakes should be considered a pillar of faith.
Even the loss of I John 5:7-8--“For there are three that bear record in heaven, the Father, the Word, and the Holy Ghost: and these three are one. And there are three that bear witness in earth, the Spirit, and the water, and the blood: and these three agree in one”—does not impact the doctrine of the Trinity.  The passage—not found in the Greek manuscripts—is referred to as the Johannine Comma and is considered to be a late addition to John’s letter.  Reportedly, Erasmus did not plan to include the verses in his Greek New Testament because no Greek manuscript contained them, though they are found in the Latin Vulgate.  Under pressure from church authorities, he finally agreed to include them if just one Greek manuscript containing them could be found.  Miraculously, such a manuscript was found, a manuscript dating from the sixteenth century when Erasmus was working.   Dutifully, he kept his word and included the questionable verses.  Because the King James translators used Erasmus’ Greek testament, the verses found their way into the King James Version.  That hardly makes the King James Version crap and the passage’s absence in later translations certainly does not suggest recent translators eviserated the Bible. 
I would explain a major problem with the KJV is not the quality of the translation or the Greek text on which it is based (though subsequent discoveries would lead to changes in what that text should include), but the fact it is written in early seventeenth century English.  And no one speaks early seventeenth century English.  We can understand it but it doesn’t flow easily from our tongues or our pens.  Shakespeare’s English dates from the same time as that of the KJV and most of us recall reading the plays from editions with copious footnotes explaining words and phrases.  Of course, Shakespeare is known to have invented many words (the KJV’s translators largely avoided that).   We needed those notes in our literature classes because English changes. 
If you don’t think so, read a scary story by Nathaniel Hawthorne and a scary story by Stephen King. 
By the way, the notion that Shakespeare (whose writing career was near its end in 1611) was actually involved in the translation (an old charge) is groundless.  That Shakespeare’s use of English may have influenced the KJV’s English is certainly plausible; Shakespeare was influencing the English of most literate persons in England at that time.  If there were deliberate borrowings, subsequent translators have, no doubt, found them and corrected them—if those phrases failed to accurately render the meaning of the original. 
All languages change.  During the nineteenth century, many German immigrants settled in the central Texas hill country.  They attempted to keep as much of their culture as possible, yet within a couple generations they were speaking a dialect that came to be known as “Texas German.”  
A young woman from New York City came to the seminary as a student.  Because she was Greek and could speak the language, she assumed she would have no problem with the mandatory New Testament Greek all theology students were required to take.  Instead, she almost failed the course; two thousand years had made that much difference in the language.
Of course, we still study Shakespeare as he wrote, not in “translations.”  This is because how the Bard said what he said is important.  At the same time, it is the message of the Bible that is important; we can’t translate the Hebrew and Greek literally because it would be extremely awkward to read.  We would probably understand it but find reading it wearying.  Consider this:  “Thus indeed loved God the world that the Son the only begotten he gave that everyone believing in him not should perish but might have life eternal.”  If we were first century Greeks and happened to be literate, we would have no problem with this more-or-less literal translation of one of the Bible’s most-beloved verses.  Guess what.  If you happened to be a twentieth-century Greek, reading John 3:16 in first-century Greek, you would struggle just like you did when your English teacher asked you to read Chaucer.  First-century Greek and twentieth-century Greek are not the same; the language, like English, has changed over the centuries.  It’s the nature of language to change.
Of course, I doubt Steve, who left a church he and his wife liked because his karate coach condemned the NIV; and the two young men I overheard a quarter of a century later would listen to me.
Some attitudes are persistent and universal.  Supposedly, shortly after the introduction of the Revised Standard Version one saint was supposed to have said, “If the King James Version was good enough for Paul, it’s good enough for me.”  While I suspect that’s apocryphal, the following account comes from someone who was there. 
A friend who teaches Spanish in college was living in Spain when an attempt was made to introduce a new translation to the Protestants there.  These believers who had suffered so much in previous centuries were very committed to the Spanish Bible they had used during those hard times and beyond.  They greeted the new translation with outrage.  My friend reported that several churches around the country had bonfires where the new Bibles were burned.[3]  Change is hard.
But let me be clear, simple resistance to change doesn’t explain everything: calling the NIV “old school” was provincial; calling the KJV “crap” was just stupid.  It would be like calling Tony Bennett a “talentless hack” because he doesn’t sing like Eminem.  Of course, some modern singers (Harry Connick, Jr. and Michael Bublé, for example) pay homage to Bennett by copying his style.  Perhaps this explains the popularity of the New King James Version, a translation that attempts to maintain the link to the seventeenth century version.  But I digress.
At the same time, having problems with King James English is not a matter of generations.  A couple months before my conversation with Steve, my wife, Pat, had an exchange with a church member who was in her early sixties.  After service one Sunday, she asked Pat, “What Bible does Jim use?”  Pat answered, “It’s the New International Version.”  “Okay,” the woman said, “I’m going to get it.  This is the first time in my life I understand what the Bible is saying.”
Ultimately, ignorance and fear produce attitudes like those of Steve and his Sensei.  It was easier to see a conspiracy afoot to rip some key element from the Scripture than to examine the impact of a having a better grasp of the original text and the changes in the English language might make on the task of translation.  However, had either of them been asked what those key elements ripped from the Scripture might have been, I doubt they could have said. 
Those suspicious of new translations often fail to appreciate that most translators are as committed to the Scriptures as they.  This commitment prompts them to produce translations that bring God’s word to people who need its message.  Yet, people like Steve and others, are overwhelmed by their fears, never considering those fears may have no basis.
While there have been translations designed to promote certain theological agendas (the Jehovah’s Witnesses’ New World Translation, for example), most of these have had little influence in the larger Christian world and their agendas were quickly discerned and condemned.  By the way, the story that the translators of the King James Version transliterated the Greek word “baptizo” to
“baptize” to avoid endorsing the practice of immersion is probably overstated.  Anabaptists apparently did not practice immersion at this time (though that is debated) and English Baptists did not adopt immersion as the mode of baptism until the 1640s.  Of course, I believe immersion was the ancient mode of baptism; I just don’t think the KJV’s translators were attempting to hide anything from the public.  But, again, I digress. 
Why is it so easy for Christians to distrust the scholars who have devoted their lives to ancient languages than it is to thank God for their commitment?  Why do we assume the worst about change, insisting some sinister motive lies behind a new translation?  Why do we insist our taste—in music, worship style, and Bible translation—is spiritually superior to that of a fellow believer?  Why do Christians so often prove the adage: “a little knowledge is a dangerous thing?” 
For years I’ve been puzzled by how easily Christians distrust their fellow Christians.  I doubt I will resolve the issue in this essay.
Instead, let me end with a few more words about translations.  Decades ago I heard a speaker say that there was a new translation of the New Testament being produced every month.  He wasn’t speaking only of English translations but a trip to the bookstore may lead you to believe he was.  Over the years, I have collected dozens; some are still being published, some are mere footnotes in the history of translations. 
How do you choose a good translation?  Again, I believe most translators are sincerely attempting to make God’s Word accessible; some do that more effectively than others.  So, here are the questions I would ask of any translation.
1.  How does it describe itself?  The following distinctions, while generally valid, are sometimes difficult to apply.  Still, I think they remain useful.
 A translation claims to have followed the original text, rendering the author’s message through a word-for-word or an idea-for-idea approach.  Consequently, under the heading of translations, there are several categories.  A dynamic equivalent translation may be described as being somewhere between a literal translation and a paraphrase, though some linguists might object to that description.  The term, coined by Eugene Nida, focuses on a “sense-for-sense” rendering of the original with the aim of trying to produce the same effect on the modern reader as the text made on its first readers or hearers.  A “formal equivalent” or word-for-word translation attempts to follow the original text with little change from one language to the other.  The New American Standard Bible is a popular translation following the “formal equivalent” philosophy and the New English Bible and The New Living Translation primarily use the “dynamic equivalent” philosophy.  The New International Version is a translation using a blending of both approaches. 
Later in his career, Nida preferred the term “functional equivalence.”  If you regularly read my sermons on my blog, you will know I often put words into the mouths of the Biblical speakers in an attempt to get at the impact of what they were saying.
A paraphrase is a much looser rendering of the ideas found in the original text; in fact, it may be thought to employ an radical dynamic equivalent approach.  A paraphrase should aim to faithfully represent the Biblical author’s ideas but would not claim to be a literal reproduction of that author’s words.   The Living Bible, published in the 1960s, is a paraphrase; The New Living Translation is a genuine translation.  The similarity of names has generated confusion.  Some paraphrases, like The Message, can be fun to use but I wouldn’t make them my primary version for study. 
2.  Is the version the product of a single individual or committee?  Some remarkable scholars have been able to produce great translations while working on their own, but generally it is better to have a team of coworkers who will attempt to check each other’s work. 
3.  Related to this, are the members and backgrounds of the translation committee identified?  Do they possess academic credentials suggesting they have the ability to translate faithfully?  Is the group balanced denominationally?  If not, do they make it clear they are attempting to avoid any bias in their work? 
Speaking of bias, it seems to me if the author’s meaning is unclear or open to more than one meaning, integrity demands translators should preserve that ambiguity. 
For example, I Timothy 3:11 literally begins “Women must likewise be….” Paul is addressing the duties and character of deacons in this passage and scholars differ about whether he is speaking of women who are the wives of deacons or women who are, themselves, deacons or deaconesses.  Some modern translations come down on one side or the other; the English Standard Bible says “Their wives,” while the Common English Bible says “…women who are servants in the church….” Other translations maintain the ambiguity or offer the alternatives, either in the text or in footnotes.  Interestingly, the KJV renders the words as “their wives,” while the older Wycliffe translation simply says, “women.”  By the way, two translations claiming to reflect the Jewish background of the early church differ in how they translate the phrase, the Complete Jewish Bible saying, “the wives,” while the Orthodox Jewish Bible says, “Nashim (women) serving as Shammashim….”[4] While I have my own opinion regarding the proper understanding of Paul’s words, I prefer translations avoid making the choice for the reader.
If the version you are considering is produced by a denomination, you should be aware some denominational preconceptions may appear in the translation.  By the way, I have a Bible version that claims to be the first translation to reflect the Biblical perspective of total abstinence.  It suggests Jesus turned water into grape juice.  That’s still a miracle but somehow it raises questions about the translator’s agenda.
Well, I hope the young seeker in Austin found a Bible and wasn’t too confused by his guide.  I hope he was not left believing he should distrust or discount anything said by someone quoting a version other than the one his guide approved.  I hope he becomes part of a Christian community where the Bible is treasured and studied, a community where he is free to carry the translation that speaks to him.  I hope that, as he sings the hymns of faith in that community, he comes to appreciate the beautiful phrases from the King James Version found in so many of those hymns.  Above all, I hope he discovers and embraces the good news at the heart of his new Bible.




[1]  David Teems, Majestie: The King Behind the King James Bible, Nashville: Thomas Nelson, 2010, p. 199.  This book is an almost light-hearted account of the production of the translation.
[2]  Much of this background was derived from A Visual History of the King James Bible by Donald L. Brake with Shelly Beach, Baker Books, 2011.  Archbishop George Abbott (d. 1633) accidently killed a gamekeeper with an arrow during a hunt in 1621.  Abbott, who believed he was shooting at a stag in the bush, was subsequently acquitted of manslaughter charges.  The incident troubled his conscience for the remainder of his life.
[3]  In the United States, similar bonfires were fueled with copies of the RSV when it was first introduced.
[4]  A Shammash is an assistant or helper in the synagogue.