Thee and Thou Hath Spoketh

posted on January 22, 2012 by Musings

In an address to the British Academy, The Archbishop of Canterbury discusses the cultural influence of the language in the King James Version (KJV) of the Bible.  We can appreciate the phrases like “fought the good fight”, “your brother’s keeper” and “a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush”.  But he also lifts up that because the language in the KJV is so distinctive in the modern era, it has been subject of parody.  The Archbishop’s Commentary is below.  It is excerpted from What Should the Word of God Sound Like?

Rather than belaboring the point, we will let Monty Python make the point for us in this clip from The Meaning of Life: Growth and Learning.

One of the most significant things you will have noticed in this anniversary year of the Authorized (King James) Bible (KJB) is that it has not come across simply as a possession of religious believers, which is why in a sense it is treated as belonging to everybody. It has been treated as something which isn’t the preserve of the Church. It’s been discussed — and to a very surprisingly large extent affirmed — as part of a wider cultural legacy. And one of the themes which we’re bound to be thinking about directly and indirectly in the context of this afternoon’s discussion is of course the curious way in which religious language (and religious symbolism in general) escape from their homes. They are, you might say, very disobedient pets. They jump over fences and get into places where you don’t expect them to get, and they produce occasionally very surprising progeny as a result.

————-

The odd thing is that our culture has in some way retained a sense of what a sacred text looks or sounds like even when the Church has been uncertain about it. That’s to say that a vague recollection of the King James Bible is heard – heard more than read perhaps – as striking a particular register in British discourse. People know roughly what you’re doing when you parody the King James Bible even if they’ve never opened it, and neither has the parodist!

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What Should the Word of God Sound Like?

posted on January 21, 2012 by Musings

In November of 2011, The Archbishop of Canterbury, Rowan Williams, spoke at a British Academy event examining the historical origins of the King James Bible and its literary and cultural influences over the last 400 years.  In his keynote address, Dr Williams explored the dilemma the Church faces in choosing traditional or modern speech in Bible reading and liturgy.

Below are excerpts from the address. The text of the address can be found at What Should the Word of God Sound Like? An audio version can be found at Archbishop’s Keynote Address.

What does sacred English sound like? What does the word of God sound like? And that means acknowledging the awkward fact that modern English largely lacks certain kinds of voice in its repertoire. In earlier centuries English was capable of working with different registers without too much self-consciousness. But we’ve largely lost that unselfconscious capacity to slip between registers, voices or keys in the way we talk publicly, never mind privately. And we’ve largely lost what has been called the ‘language of excess’ in religious utterance, the language of ‘redundancy’.

………

And the hard question for the translator of Scripture these days, is how to find an idiom that still does justice to the strange and the disturbing, both culturally strange and the transcendentally strange. What does the word of God sound like in a context where language itself is so often stripped-down and narrowed? Can we point to, evoke or even articulate the word of God in that environment where our linguistic options are so shrunken? And the answer to that does mean attention to both elements of strangeness that I have mentioned: the cultural and the transcendental. The culturally strange, because of course the Bible is not a book or a collection of books that was written yesterday. And its ‘not-being-written-yesterday-ness’ is an abidingly significant thing about it. It is from another era (several other eras) it is something that speaks to us from a place of human difference. And for those who believe it speaks from a place of more than human difference, there is that second strangeness – the transcendental strangeness to be dealt with and thought through. Translations of the Bible which ignore both of those kinds of strangeness are not actually going to do their work. That’s why translation of the Bible is difficult.

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What Makes For a Good Bible Translation?

posted on January 19, 2012 by Musings

In Westminster Abbey on November 16, 2011, the Archbishop of Canterbury Rowan Williams preached at a Thanksgiving Service for the 400th anniversary of the 1611 Authorized (King James) translation of the Bible. Following are some excerpts from his sermon.  The full sermon can be read here: KJV Anniversary Sermon by the Archbishop of Canterbury.

What is a good translation? Not one that just allows me to say, when I pick it up, ‘Now I understand’. Of course, if I’m faced with a text in a strange language, I need to be able simply to read it; but a good translation will be an invitation to read again, and to probe, and reflect, and imagine with the text. Rather than letting me say, ‘Now I understand’, it prompts the response, ‘Now the work begins.’

…..

We have all suffered from a mindset in the last couple of centuries that has assumed there is an end to translating and understanding and thus that there is something wrong with any version of a text that fails to settle disputes and to provide an account of the truth that no-one could disagree with. But what the 1611 translators grasped was that hearing the Word of God was a lifelong calling that had to be undertaken in the company of other readers and was never something that left us where we started.

….

I’ve mentioned hearing as well as reading. It’s easy to forget that when the 1611 Bible was first published it was not yet a volume that everyone could be expected to own. Like its Reformed predecessors, Tyndale’s Bible, the Geneva Bible, the Bishops’ Bible—and unlike its Catholic parallel, the Rheims/Douai version—it was meant to be read aloud. And that means that it was meant to be part of an event, a shared experience. Gathered as a Christian community, the parish would listen, in the context of praise, reflection and instruction, to Scripture being read: it provided the picture of a whole renewed universe within which all the other activities made sense.

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A New Definition of Greatness

posted on January 17, 2012 by Musings

No one can deny the power of the words of Martin Luther King, Jr.   At least part of that power finds its roots in the majesty, cadences, language, stories, and images of the King James Bible.  As a minister and son of a minister, King knew his King James Bible, and that knowledge permeated King’s speech patterns and thought throughout his too-short life.  Our upcoming topic for Musings next week will be the 400th anniversary of the King James Bible.  To jump start that discussion and in celebration of Dr. King’s birthday, here are two links to Dr. King reading portions of  Mark 10: 35-45 from the King James Bible and part of his sermon (the “Drum Major Instinct” sermon) on that text.

Mark 10: 35-45 and excerpt from The Drum Major Instinct

Excerpt from The Drum Major Instinct

Text of Sermon

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“Our God is Marching On!”

posted on January 16, 2012 by Musings

Yesterday we posted a portion of the address given by the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. on March 25, 1965  on the steps of the state capitol in Montgomery AL.  This speech came to be known as the “How Long?” address.  Today as we recognize and celebrate his birth, we are posting further excerpts from the speech. The full address can be read at: “Our God is Marching On!”

There is nothing wrong with marching in this sense. The Bible tells us that the mighty men of Joshua merely walked about the walled city of Jericho and the barriers to freedom came tumbling down. I like that old Negro spiritual, “Joshua Fit the Battle of Jericho.” In its simple, yet colorful, depiction of that great moment in biblical history, it tells us that:

The battle is in our hands. And we can answer with creative nonviolence the call to higher ground to which the new directions of our struggle summons us. The road ahead is not altogether a smooth one. There are no broad highways that lead us easily and inevitably to quick solutions. But we must keep going.

Joshua fit the battle of Jericho,

Joshua fit the battle of Jericho,

And the walls come tumbling down.

Up to the walls of Jericho they marched, spear in hand.

“Go blow them ramhorns,” Joshua cried,

“‘Cause the battle am in my hand.”

These words I have given you just as they were given us by the unknown, long-dead, dark-skinned originator. Some now long-gone black bard bequeathed to posterity these words in ungrammatical form, yet with emphatic pertinence for all of us today.

———-

I know you are asking today, “How long will it take?” Somebody’s asking, “How long will prejudice blind the visions of men, darken their understanding, and drive bright-eyed wisdom from her sacred throne?” Somebody’s asking, “When will wounded justice, lying prostrate on the streets of Selma and Birmingham and communities all over the South, be lifted from this dust of shame to reign supreme among the children of men?”

Somebody’s asking, “When will the radiant star of hope be plunged against the nocturnal bosom of this lonely night, plucked from weary souls with chains of fear and the manacles of death? How long will justice be crucified, and truth bear it?”

I come to say to you this afternoon, however difficult the moment, however frustrating the hour, it will not be long, because “truth crushed to earth will rise again.” How long? Not long, (Yes, sir) because “no lie can live forever.”

How long? Not long, because “you shall reap what you sow.”
How long? Not long:
Truth forever on the scaffold,
Wrong forever on the throne,
Yet that scaffold sways the future,
And, behind the dim unknown,
Standeth God within the shadow,
Keeping watch above his own.
How long?

Not long, because the arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends toward justice.
How long? Not long, because:
Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord;
He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored;
He has loosed the fateful lightning of his terrible swift sword;
His truth is marching on.
He has sounded forth the trumpet that shall never call retreat;
He is sifting out the hearts of men before His judgment seat.
O, be swift, my soul, to answer Him! Be jubilant my feet!
Our God is marching on.
Glory, hallelujah! Glory, hallelujah!
Glory, hallelujah! Glory, hallelujah!
His truth is marching on.

© The Estate of Martin Luther King, Jr.

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“How Long?”

posted on January 15, 2012 by Musings

March 1965 witnessed one of the emotional and political peaks of the civil rights movement.  Months of voter registration efforts, marches and protests in Selma, Alabama, had culminated in the shooting death of a marcher by an Alabama state trooper in February 1965.

In response, leaders of the voter registration efforts decided to stage a march from Selma to Montgomery to confront George Wallace with the death of the marcher and his complicity in that act.  Three efforts to make the march from Selma to Montgomery took place in March 1965.  The first on March 7 is remembered as Bloody Sunday when marchers were gassed and beaten as they tried to cross the Edmund Pettus Bridge in Selma. The second effort on March 9 was turned back by state troopers and a court injunction.  On March 11, a Unitarian minister who had come to Selma in support of the marchers died as a result of a beating he had received in Selma.

On March 16, President Lyndon Johnson addressed a joint session of Congress to present legislation that would become the Voting Rights Act of 1965.  Finally, on March 21 after the injunction had been lifted, the marchers to Montgomery crossed the Edmund Pettus Bridge on the first day of their journey to Montgomery.  They arrived four days later where on March 25, Martin Luther King, Jr. gave what has become known as the “How Long?” speech on the steps of the state capitol.  Below are some excerpts from that speech.  We will post some additional excerpts tomorrow, the day we celebrate his birth.  A complete copy of the text can be found here “Our God is Marching On!”

Last Sunday, more than eight thousand of us started on a mighty walk from Selma, Alabama. We have walked through desolate valleys and across the trying hills. We have walked on meandering highways and rested our bodies on rocky byways. Some of our faces are burned from the outpourings of the sweltering sun. Some have literally slept in the mud. We have been drenched by the rains.

Our bodies are tired and our feet are somewhat sore. But today as I stand before you and think back over that great march, I can say, as Sister Pollard said-a seventy-year-old Negro woman who lived in this community during the bus boycott-and one day, she was asked while walking if she didn’t want to ride. And when she answered, “No,” the person said, “Well, aren’t you tired?” And with her ungrammatical profundity, she said, “My feets is tired, but my soul is rested.” And in a real sense this afternoon, we can say that our feet are tired, but our souls are rested.

……………

Today I want to tell the city of Selma, today I want to say to the state of Alabama, today I want to say to the people of America and the nations of the world, that we are not about to turn around.

We are on the move now.

Yes, we are on the move and no wave of racism can stop us. We are on the move now. The burning of our churches will not deter us. The bombing of our homes will not dissuade us. We are on the move now.

The beating and killing of our clergymen and young people will not divert us. We are on the move now. The wanton release of their known murderers would not discourage us. We are on the move now.

Like an idea whose time has come, not even the marching of mighty armies can halt us.

We are moving to the land of freedom.

Let us therefore continue our triumphant march to the realization of the American dream.

© The Estate of Martin Luther King, Jr.

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Hope for the PC(USA)

posted on January 12, 2012 by Musings

Eight Presbyterians (five teaching elders and three ruling elders), including Cynthia Bolbach and Landon Whitsitt, the moderator and vice-moderator of the 219^th General Assembly of the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.), have issued a letter and video expressing their hope in the future of the denomination. The full letter can be found at Eight church elders urge congregations to rethink plans to leave the PC(USA) and the video at Hope for the PC(USA)

Below is an excerpt from the letter.

Is the PC(USA) undergoing a season of change? For certain. We are feeling the birthpangs of a new church as it is being reformed by the Holy Spirit. But those changes are much broader than the divisive debates of recent years. The desire to discern what missional actually means “on the ground,” to re-invigorate congregations losing momentum and to make a real life-giving difference in our communities is happening across the whole denomination. We are convinced that that reformation is strengthened by reinvesting ourselves and all of our congregations – and weakened by the departure of any.

We understand that it’s difficult not knowing exactly where we’re going to end up. But the road we are on, in seeking to proclaim God’s Word to a 21st century culture, is not only exciting but transformative.

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Christmas Oratorio

posted on January 7, 2012 by Musings

Yesterday was the Twelfth Day of Christmas. Today we reflect on the end of Christmas season with a poem by W.H. Auden.

Well, so that is that. Now we must dismantle the tree,
Putting the decorations back into their cardboard boxes –
Some have got broken — and carrying them up to the attic.
The holly and the mistletoe must be taken down and burnt,
And the children got ready for school. There are enough
Left-overs to do, warmed-up, for the rest of the week –
Not that we have much appetite, having drunk such a lot,
Stayed up so late, attempted — quite unsuccessfully –
To love all of our relatives, and in general
Grossly overestimated our powers. Once again
As in previous years we have seen the actual Vision and failed
To do more than entertain it as an agreeable
Possibility, once again we have sent Him away,
Begging though to remain His disobedient servant,
The promising child who cannot keep His word for long.
The Christmas Feast is already a fading memory,
And already the mind begins to be vaguely aware
Of an unpleasant whiff of apprehension at the thought
Of Lent and Good Friday which cannot, after all, now
Be very far off. But, for the time being, here we all are,
Back in the moderate Aristotelian city
Of darning and the Eight-Fifteen, where Euclid’s geometry
And Newton’s mechanics would account for our experience,
And the kitchen table exists because I scrub it.
It seems to have shrunk during the holidays. The streets
Are much narrower than we remembered; we had forgotten
The office was as depressing as this. To those who have seen
The Child, however dimly, however incredulously,
The Time Being is, in a sense, the most trying time of all.
For the innocent children who whispered so excitedly
Outside the locked door where they knew the presents to be
Grew up when it opened. Now, recollecting that moment
We can repress the joy, but the guilt remains conscious;
Remembering the stable where for once in our lives
Everything became a You and nothing was an It.
And craving the sensation but ignoring the cause,
We look round for something, no matter what, to inhibit
Our self-reflection, and the obvious thing for that purpose
Would be some great suffering. So, once we have met the Son,
We are tempted ever after to pray to the Father;
“Lead us into temptation and evil for our sake.”
They will come, all right, don’t worry; probably in a form
That we do not expect, and certainly with a force
More dreadful than we can imagine. In the meantime
There are bills to be paid, machines to keep in repair,
Irregular verbs to learn, the Time Being to redeem
From insignificance. The happy morning is over,
The night of agony still to come; the time is noon:
When the Spirit must practice his scales of rejoicing
Without even a hostile audience, and the Soul endure
A silence that is neither for nor against her faith
That God’s Will will be done, That, in spite of her prayers,
God will cheat no one, not even the world of its triumph.

— W. H. Auden

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Epiphany

posted on January 6, 2012 by Musings

From : Common Prayer: A Liturgy for Ordinary Radicals

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JOURNEY OF THE MAGI

posted on January 1, 2012 by Musings

A poem from T.S. Eliot as we reflect on the visit of the

Magi to bring gifts to the King.

A cold coming we had of it,
Just the worst time of the year
For a journey, and such a long journey:
The ways deep and the weather sharp,
The very dead of winter.
And the camels galled, sore-footed, refractory,
Lying down in the melting snow.
There were times when we regretted
The summer palaces on slopes, the terraces,
And the silken girls bringing sherbet.
Then the camel men cursing and grumbling
And running away, and wanting their liquor and women,
And the night-fires going out, and the lack of shelters,
And the cities dirty and the towns unfriendly
And the villages dirty and charging high prices:
A hard time we had of it.
At the end we preferred to travel all night,
Sleeping in snatches,
With the voices singing in our ears, saying
That this was all folly.

Then at dawn we came down to a temperate valley,
Wet, below the snow line, smelling of vegetation;
With a running stream and a water mill beating the darkness,
And three trees on the low sky,
And an old white horse galloped away in the meadow.
Then we came to a tavern with vine-leaves over the lintel,
Six hands at an open door dicing for pieces of silver,
And feet kicking the empty wineskins.
But there was no information, and so we continued
And arrived at evening, not a moment too soon
Finding the place; it was (you may say) satisfactory.

All this was a long time ago, I remember,
And I would do it again, but set down
This set down
This: were we led all that way for
Birth or Death? There was a Birth, certainly,
We had evidence and no doubt. I had seen birth and death,
But had thought they were different; this Birth was
Hard and bitter agony for us, like Death, our death.
We returned to our places, these Kingdoms,
But no longer at ease here, in the old dispensation,
With an alien people clutching their gods.
I should be glad of another death.

–T.S. Eliot

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