Threads from Henry's Web

Tag: KJV

  • Why I Hate the KJV

    It’s about time for one of my periodic posts on the King James Version, signaled by comments from a KJV-Only advocate to some earlier posts.

    As is usual, the commenter does not interact with anything I say about this issue, but merely affirms the need for a solid foundation, provided in the KJV. In this case, the commenter tells me that the KJV has never been proven wrong. I can hear his question: How can you be so perverse as to fail to give homage to the Bible. To the KJV-Only advocate, Psalm 19:7 does not read “The law of the Lord is perfect, converting the soul” but instead reads “The King James Version is perfect, converting the soul.” This particular commenter didn’t ask me why I hate the KJV, but that usually comes somewhere in the discussion.

    Well, the answer is that I do not, in fact, hate the KJV. The title is tongue in cheek, though I wouldn’t be surprised to have it used as evidence of my hate. I also do not hate the Douai-Rheims version, the Geneva Bible, Wycliffe’s translation, or the Latin Vulgate. I just don’t recommend that you use any of those as your primary study Bible nor do I recommend you use them for scripture readings. Some exceptions can be allowed for those who are experts in the appropriate language. I consult all of those except Wycliffe on a fairly regular basis.

    The KJV is simply one translation of the Bible. It is special because of the time, place, and circumstances of its translation. It is, perhaps, the single most important accomplishment of English Bible translation, though that would be debatable. Its translators worked out some quite good translation principles, and they worked with substantial literary skill. To one who has any feel for the language of that period it is truly a work of beauty. (I must, however, give a nod to the considerable subjective element in beauty. I find it beautiful.)

    Having said that, it is also an historical artifact. It is no longer easily understood by modern audiences. Our knowledge of the Biblical languages has advanced. We have many new manuscripts available, and we also have more advanced tools with which to study them. As a choice to use as a study Bible today, or for Bible readings in church, or as a reading Bible, it is not good for the majority of readers. I would make an exception for that small group of people who have actually mastered that language.

    The KJV-Only movement is thankfully getting smaller. It has the effect of turning people away from the Bible rather than toward it. It is largely a means of maintaining personal authority for pastors and teachers who have placed their dependence on a particular English version rather than either going to the original languages, or using multiple translations to help get perspective.

    Again, I must make clear that I do not refer in the previous paragraph to people who prefer the KJV while respecting other translations, or to pastors who use the KJV in teaching a congregation where that was the preference. I question the wisdom of such a thing, but I do not call it dangerous. What I call dangerous is the teaching that the KJV is the one, true word of God.

    I used to write about this frequently, but I don’t any more, fundamentally because I’ve run out of things to say, and I haven’t seen a new or interesting KJV-Only argument to which I can respond in some years. They just repeat the same thing over and over. I’m more interested now in getting people to move to newer versions that are suitable for outreach, such as the CEV, TNIV, or NCV amongst others.

    But having gotten some comments I just had to blow off a bit of steam on the topic. I now return you to your regular programming.

  • Translation, Exposition, and Communication

    Yes! I have found another pretentious title for a relatively simple post!

    I’ve been following the discussion around the blogosphere about literary translation, which has involved any number of blogs. I’ve been too busy to write about it. I was about to start last night, and then Doug at Metacatholic said part of what I wanted to say, and I waited until this morning to put it all together a bit more.

    In working with secular literature, and even with much religious or spiritual literature, there are many ways in which a work can be transformed to reach a particular audience. One of the methods I’ve been playing around with is simply writing a very short fictional piece that tries to teach the same lesson (example here). The point here is not to produce professional fiction or for the teacher to produce a “better” story, but rather for students to study the story by changing its form. I would ask students to tell a story from their own lives or to create a fictional one to teach the lesson. In studying Bible stories I also use the technique of having students tell the story from someone else’s point of view (see the section toward the end on Ahab’s Viewpoint).

    In secular literature we can have a book re-presented as a condensed book, a movie, a play, a children’s edition, illustrated edition, modernized (for an older work), and so forth. In each presentation, there are many choices made in terms of what of the original work will be presented again and what will be left out. Any time one changes the presentation, one loses something, and one may also gain something. The person who alters the form may well instill some additional meaning into the work that was not there before.

    But in Bible translation it seems to me that we tend to operate in fear of doing it the wrong way. Now don’t get me wrong here. I have very strong preferences in terms of Bible translation. I’m an advocate of dynamic equivalence, and of using ordinary, natural expressions in the target language. That is what I want most in a translation. If you think about it, and then realize that the most common thing I’m doing with a Bible translation is using it in a teaching context, you will realize that my preference of translation and my purpose tend to line up. One must add that I do not pretend to teach my classes Greek or Hebrew (unless that’s the subject!) and thus I am uninterested in a presentation of the forms of the source language.

    Nonetheless, as I talk about translations, I tend very strongly to speak in terms of lines of division. There are formal equivalence and dynamic equivalence, and never shall the twain meet. Now I actually believe there is a continuum (illustrated here), but that continuum easily gets lost in discussion.

    Let’s take [tag]The Message[/tag] for example. The key question people ask me, and the one I’m likely to bring up if they don’t, is whether this version is really a translation or not, and whether it is “good to use.” I can then analyze the language, and how close it is to the source, and in general I must admit that The Message doesn’t seem to me to reflect the original very accurately in many cases.

    But let’s shift context. Would I say the same thing about [tag]Eugene Peterson[/tag]’s teaching or his exposition in other material that he has written? There’s a bright line there that we may not always acknowledge. If he’s expounding, it’s OK. If he’s translating, well, not so much. What we are generally looking for is a solid line that divides working with the original languages from translation, and then working with a translation from someone’s exposition.

    But is such a line realistic? Let’s compare my reading of Hebrew, for example, to that of a Rabbi who has spent his entire life working strictly with the Hebrew text. Alternatively we could compare my reading to someone who has spent his entire life studying comparative ancient near eastern languages, which is closer to my own study. Since I went from that study at the MA level to teaching Bible at the popular level, I have spent a great deal less time in the details. I would expect there to be points that either of those experts would see in the text that I would easily miss. When I read their expositions, I see this in action.

    Let me belabor the point a bit before I build on it. I had read Leviticus through in Hebrew several times on my own, and done so in connection with Nahum Sarna’s JPS commentary, for example, but then I picked up Leviticus with Jacob Milgrom’s three volume Anchor Bible set. I claim to study from the original languages, and I do–in a sense. But not like that!

    On the other hand I regularly encounter preachers who say that they prepare their sermons from the original languages, and yet can barely work through the material word by word. Now don’t take this as criticism. I congratulate them for using all the tools at their disposal, but their specialty and their calling doesn’t allow them to become experts in everything.

    Hopefully that portrayal will do to show three levels of reading of the source texts–the expert in the texts, the person with facility in the language yet who does not professionally research on linguistic issues, and the pastor/teacher who knows some of the language. Anyone with experience could fill in the blanks either direction.

    We could similarly work our way through a continuum of levels of study with various English translations, based on how accurately the text conveys the maximum possible content of the source text. Somewhere in there we should fit someone who studies from multiple English versions.

    Finally, if we keep looking, we’ll find those persons who really don’t learn directly from the text or a translation at all, but rather learn the Bible in their community through exposition. There is a contempt in conservative Christianity for such people, but there are many who do know their Bibles quite well simply because they are regularly in the church when the scriptures are read and expounded, or they get similar knowledge from reading. This kind of thing makes folks like me nervous, because there are plenty of written materials that I believe distort the meaning.

    Now note that the continuum I have presented is based solely on comprehending the intended message of the text. If I were to abandon that particular question, I might ask instead what methods of study and exposition result in the greater absorption of the spirit of the text by the students. That would result in quite a different list.

    I could again shift views and try to build a continuum based on what produces a community sense of worship in reading scripture. This is a tremendously neglected area in many protestant churches. The information content is the sole criterion. The notion of the scripture reading as a vehicle for community worship is rarely considered. I can evoke cries of dismay when I suggest that respect for the scriptures might well be enhanced by reading all four lectionary texts on a Sunday. There seems to be a sense that if we don’t talk about it, if there is no sermon that builds directly on all those texts, there is no point in reading them. That comes from the idea that only knowledge is important.

    When reading scripture for worship, the literary quality of the text becomes more important, and especially the sound of the text when read aloud. Out of modern versions I like the sound of the [tag]New Jerusalem Bible[/tag] or the [tag]Revised English Bible[/tag] in public reading, but I know a number of people who would still go for the [tag]KJV[/tag] solely for its literary beauty. Now I don’t happen to like the KJV all that well myself, but I believe that literary taste has only a small objective portion and a very large subjective portion (a few notes on this here).

    If I were to work solely from my own tastes, I would suggest trying to match the literary quality of the original in translation. If so, [tag]Hebrews[/tag] should be harder to read, even when you know all the vocabulary words, than is [tag]1 John[/tag]. But of course it should not merely be harder to read; that’s just a product of someone not steeped in the language and rhetorical techniques reading a rather sophisticated text. The translation would need to be a literary masterpiece in English. My question would be this: Can you do that without reorganizing the material? In order to present the message of Hebrews as perhaps a masterful short theological essay, would we not need to take liberties with the structure of the book? After all, few English readers even notice the various literary features.

    What I’m suggesting here is that none of these issues are binary issues, and that there are very few absolutely right and wrong answers. I use the slogan “the best Bible version is one your read.” My point is that different people will be comfortable reading, and will understand different Bible versions. There will always be a compromise on what is conveyed and what is filtered out by the translation choices. That is simply a feature of translating, transforming, or expounding a message.

    One last note for those working on single translations into languages that are likely to have only one. There I can think of no better goal than “clear, accurate, and natural.” It’s very easy to set goals that are out of range of human thinking. In English, where so much effort is expended, we have the luxury of using multiple version and thousands of books of exposition to get the message across. In languages much less privileged–or abused–that doesn’t exist. There I would have to say that having something clear, accurate, and natural would come before anything else.

    I sense that understanding in Peter Kirk’s post “Literary Translation” and Obfuscation, which I think brings up a number of points. Look at that post from the perspective of a Bible translator who is not adding yet another English translation to the literature.

    Let me note the following from John Hobbins: Is Literary Translation Possible and If a text is literary, its dynamic equivalent in translation must also be literary From the second I take the following:

    But that means that dynamic equivalent translations like the Good News Bible and the Contemporary English Version are improperly done. For vast swathes of the Old Testament, the translation they offer is not literary enough.

    My point would simply be that I don’t accept the phrase “improperly done.” They are done according to the goals of their translators. The proposed “literary” translation would not accomplish that goal. Let me belabor the point some more. I love reading the [tag]REB[/tag]. It sits open on the reading stand by my computer because I love to consult it. I love to read it aloud. But I cannot use it in teaching, because I end up with too little understanding of the text. What to me is literary beauty obscures the meaning for them.

    For my goals in teaching, the REB is “improperly done.” But for my goals in reading and study, it is quite “properly done.”

  • Book: In Discordance with the Scriptures

    Though it would be a slight exaggeration, one could call this a history of Bible translation for post-moderns. Rather than focusing heavily on the technical issues as do most books on this topic, it focuses on the political and social elements and emphasizes that Bible translation is not a purely objective and scientific process. Any translation is influenced by the social and theological values of the translators.

    After briefly providing the background on how English Bible translation developed, the author begins looking in detail at the English Revised Version, the forces that shaped it, and the reasons for its successes and failures. The text really comes alive with chapters 4 and 5, dealing with the translation of the RSV and the liberal-conservative controversy that resulted.

    From the historical point of view, this is the key watershed in the history of Bible translation. Before that, even though there were a number of translations, the King James Version was overwhelmingly dominant, and the only competitors that came even close were the ERV and the ASV. The RSV was intended as another general, standard, authorized English Bible to replace the KJV, but Thuesen documents the reasons why it didn’t work. There simply was no organization that could authorize the Bible that would be accepted by all protestants.

    The fight over the RSV also tended to focus on theological more than technical issues. It is these social and theological issues that often drove other Bible translations, such as the New American Standard Bible and the NIV.

    This book is well-researched, extensively footnoted, and well written. The author does ramble just a bit, in my opinion, but generally less than I do, so that’s OK!

    My numerical rating is a 4.

  • Book: God’s Secretaries

    If you’re looking for a history of the KJV, you are likely to be disappointed by this book. There is a history, and considering the very sparse information on the topic, it’s a pretty good one, but it is concealed in the incredibly wordy prose of this ponderous document. Considering my own propensity for long words and complex sentences, I would suggest that I be taken seriously when I call someone else’s prose “ponderous.” Nicolson really likes the rich language of the KJV. He seems also to like much of the culture of Jacobean England, though he is capable of criticizing it.

    There is a great deal here on culture and the feel of the times. There is very little on Bible translation and its characteristics. I would call it more of a story than a history, but then it is a story that moves so slowly.

    Having said all of this about style, there is one characteristic that truly annoys me. Nicolson apparently belongs to that group of people who has decided that a particular literary style is better than any other, and who criticize anything else as inadequate. If one comprehends the Jacobean prose, and if one appreciates that sort of thing, then it will have the effects Nicolson credits it with. But that determination is subjective. I personally find the Revised English Bible a much better read. I like its sound better when read aloud, and I believe it is both more comprehensible and more faithful to the literary values of the source texts it purports to translate.

    Nicolson holds that sometimes the KJV is more majestic than the source. If one assumes that majesty is the proper quality of all prose, then perhaps that’s a good thing. As a reader of the source texts in their original languages, I don’t feel the same way. And “feel” is the appropriate term. There are some objective values in literary quality–good proofreading, for example. But much of literary quality is a matter of taste.

    I recall one of my professors who was a great fan of Dostoevsky. He also thought much of the science fiction I read was of poor quality and low literary value. Some of it was, some of it wasn’t. But under no circumstances would I recommend to anyone to read Dostoevsky at any time. I know that there are those literary folks who will regard my tastes as pedestrian and popular. They’re welcome to that opinion. I like what I like.

    What I dislike is the notion that those who like something different than I do are somehow objectively on a higher literary level. The KJV uses a language that was already in the past when it was translated. I do believe it is of high literary quality, though I wouldn’t want all that many works written in that style. (I like but do not love Shakespeare.) On page 234, Nicolson quotes T. S. Eliot of the NEB, saying that it “astonishes in its combination of the vulgar, the trivial and the pedantic.” I like T. S. Eliot, but I disagree with him here.

    If you choose to read this book, be prepared to cull the valuable material from the midst of the trivial and pedantic load of superfluous verbal baggage.

    My numerical rating: 2.

  • Revision and Translation

    In my book What’s in a Version? and in my Bible Translation Selection Tool I do not deal much with the question of whether a translation is a revision or not, except when the translation is not taken from the original languages. In this entry, I’m going to look at a couple of revision histories, and discuss what terms like “revision” and “derivative” mean in the context of translation.

    Let me deal with “derivative” first. As a literary term, it is of very limited usefulness, simply because a translation is derivative to some extent by nature. The translator is not attempting a composition. Originality is not all that desireable for the most part; occasionally one may need serious originality to come up with a way to accurately convey what is said in the source language. Thus all translations are derivative to some extent. To apply this to a translation revision is a bit misleading, unless that translation is rewritten without reference to the source languages. It might, for example, be accurate of the Living Bible, though not of its successor the New Living Translation.

    Before I look at the process of revising a translation let’s look at the historical connections between some modern versions. The KJV has been the root for many English translations, as the following chart will show:

    Some genetic links between Bible translations

    Note: I make no attempt in this chart to show precise chronology. Note also that any translation owes something to those that have gone before. The NIV, for example, was a new, original translation, but nonetheless it does owe something the the KJV and RSV before it.

    Now let’s look at the whole process of revision.

    In some ways this issue is similar to the one commonly found in apologetics books. How can one trust the Bible when it has been translated so many times? In response, one might ask what damage is done to the source text when it is translated. The difficulty here is that each new translation can, and most commonly does, go back to the source texts, and thus there is no deterioration due to successive revision; rather, there is likely to be improvement.

    What process does a person undertake to produce a new translation? One goes deals with issues of target audience, source texts, translation philosophy, target language style and so forth, and one translates. How does this differ from a revision? In a revision one deals with all of the same questions. There are two differences. The translation philosophy and method is to one extent or another derived from the earlier translation, and second, phrases in the older translation that do not need to be changed are not changed. Variations in how much a revision will change a translation depend on what the translators find as they translate.

    In the chart above, for example, when the ASV was produced from the RV, it was largely a matter of employing the American editors preferences in wording and style. This was not a new translation at all; simply the selection of one set of editing results over another. Because of the time gap, there were a few additional points, but these were largely minor. In the case of the Living Bible, the ASV was paraphrased from the English of the ASV to a more modern, colloquial English, and this was done without reference to the original languages. This is the closest thing I see in Bible translation to the normal understanding of a derivative work in terms of literature. The New American Standard Bible, on the other hand, while flowing from the tradition of the ASV, was a new translation starting from the original languages. The only importance that the fact that the NASB is a revision has for the user is that a certain style is maintained. Every word of the text has been reworked using original language texts by the new translators.

    The NIV and the NEB each introduced some new elements into Bible translation philosophy at the time. The NIV manages a sort of balance in terms of functional and formal equivalence. If you check my data page on that translation (link above), you will see that it rates quite high in both my formal and functional tests. The NEB leans much more to the functional side of the scale. These are not directly revised from any other version.

    Nonetheless translators will consult other versions. I normally make a working translation of my own when I prepare to preach or teach, even if I use one of the major versions when I’m actually in front of people. I will first create a translation of my own, then I revise it, and then I will compare it to several major versions. I recheck differences between these versions and my own work to make sure that I understand why they translated as they did. Sometimes the result is that I again modify my own work. This is also normally a part of the process of translation for anyone who wants to be accurate.

    I think that the ESV is particularly clear on this issue in their preface. They have separate headings, “Translation Legacy” and “Translations Philosophy.” Under the first heading, they note that ” . . . each word and phrase in the ESV has been carefully weighted against the original Hebrew, Aramaic, and Greek . . .” A little later they note: “The words and phrases themselves grow out of the Tyndale-King James legacy, and most recently out of the RSV . . .”

    In effect, the revisers thoroughly check everything against the original languages, and are willing to change what needs to be changed for accuracy and for current language, in effect giving you the same quality of translation as you get from a brand-new translation. There is no ongoing loss of meaning that results from this process. There would be no necessary improvement were the translation not a revision at all.

    Now if a new translation introduces a new translation philosophy or some new efforts in terms of style, then there is a reason to look at a translation that is not a revision. But those are the precise things we look for in a translation in any case. So supposing you are looking for a literal, or formal-equivalent translation. The fact that the NASB and the NRSV are both revsions tracing their history back to the KJV really has no bearing on which you should choose. You would have to look at their philosophy of translation, their style, their translation committee and from there make your decision. And in this case, I chose the NRSV because, though a revision, it has introduced a substantial new twist in translation style–gender neutral (or gender accurate, depending on your viewpoint) language, and it made this innovation while revising another version. Which just goes to show how little the term “revision” will tell you about a particular translation.

    One last point I like to emphasize is this: The proper way to test a translation is to check it against the documents from which it was translated. I have seen huge numbers of arguments discussing what might have happened, or what certain terms mean, when simply looking at the translation itself would answer the questions.

    (Note: I will get back to talking about inspiration, though I suspect some were hoping I’d find another subject!)

  • Creationism and the KJV

    One of the ways I use to check material that is written outside of my own field of expertise is to look at how the author(s) handle material that is within my field. This can come dangerously close to ad hominem, but I believe it is a valid approach used carefully. If an author misuses sources, evidence, and logic in an area with which I’m familiar, how much should I trust that author in areas in which I am looking for learning?

    I was looking through some young earth creationist (YEC) web sites over the last few days, and noted some comments favoring the KJV. I found a defense of the KJV on the Institute for Creation Reasearch (ICR) web site in which Dr. Henry Morris defends his use of the KJV. This article was written some time ago, and the topic is not new. Dr. Morris also notes that he doesn’t want to argue this with anyone, as he is not an expert. I believe, however, that it is valid to examine his basic approach.

    That basic approach is very similar to the YEC approach in general: Reason from desired conclusion back to evidence, rather than from evidence to conclusion. Morris knows that evolutionists of all stripes are bad, so Bible versions in which they are involved must also be bad. The KJV translators, he asserts, were all believers in the literal truth of the Bible (whatever “literal” may mean in that context) and specifically in the literal truth of Genesis (literal here probably means “understanding it as historical narrative), and thus their version is more to be trusted. Many early manuscripts were discovered in Egypt, and there was questionable theology coming out of Egypt, so those manuscripts must be bad. Even when most of the translation committee would agree theologically with Morris, as in the case of the NKJV, he can’t quite bring himself to accept the improvement.

    (I would argue that the NKJV is easily the worst of the major modern translations, and precisely because it slavishly followed the same text as the KJV in the face of mountains of evidence that a more modern, eclectic text is better.)

    Another set of arguments that I hear commonly and that are repeated in Morris’s defense of the KJV is that people can’t read in unison any more, and that Bible memorization is becoming a lost art. I would be quite surprised if this deterioration of Bible memorization is any more than a “good old days” nostalgic memory–everything was better when I was a child! But this argument is one of the oddest ones. Churches very commonly now have pew Bibles. If you want people to read in unison, you can use the pew Bibles. If you want to memorize, you can pick a translation. I know people who memorize from the CEV, the NIV, and the NRSV.

    I’m going to skip over a detailed examination of all of these issues, because I have written about them before. Let me recommend briefly the following: Bible Version Selection Tool, Translations FAQ, and What’s in a Version? (tract).

    But there is one issue I want to look at, because I hear it from both sides: Is there a major problem with the translation of the texts related to creation in the Bible?

    People who are not involved in translation have tremendous expectations of what a new translation will accomplish. One time I was in an online conference. One user on hearing that I could read Hebrew said, “Tell me what Genesis 1 really means!” He was disappointed that I said he could more or less read any modern English version and get the story. It’s unrealistic to expect one person, on the spot, to produce a better translation of a passage than a team of experts who have as much time as they need to accomplish the same task. I always cringe when I hear a pastor say in a sermon, “What this text really means in Greek (or Hebrew) is . . .” Normally, that’s a preface to some misinformation.

    Now I don’t mean that there is nothing to be gained from knowing the original languages. There are certainly details that you will miss in any translation. There are points of disagreement that you will need the source languages to disentangle. For example, one cannot recognize the linguistic relationships between the Genesis story in Genesis and other ancient near easter materials without some knowledge of the languages. There are two major approaches in translating the first two verses of Genesis 1 (see Genesis Creation Stories – Form, Structure, and Relationship). There are some details that can only be evaluated by someone who actually knows the languages in question.

    But these are not the real issue for young earth creationists. Their problem is with the literary study of the text. Their claim is that the one type of literature we may see in Genesis is narrative history. Regardless of how the details are translated, this difference is going to remain. On all the questions of translation in Genesis 1 & 2 one can accept either reading, and nonetheless accept the result as narrative history, or perhaps instead as some form of theology or myth.

    Creationists who hold onto the King James Version aren’t really doing so because it supports their position better. It doesn’t. They aren’t doing so because of sound arguments. There are none. They are doing so because it is their habit to cling to safety and certainty. Fundamentally, that is what all this is about.

    But I have something to say to those who are liberal or skeptical as well. The translation changes will not prove that Genesis is not historical narrative either. There is no “aha!” point in the text when you can say, because of a modification of the translation, that this must have been intended as some form of figurative speech. There is no manuscript with a missing line that says, “Here is the Hebrew myth of origins.” Those are all decisions that a student or reader has to make, based on literary criteria.

    (For more information on Bible translations, see the links above, and also my book, What’s in a Version?.)