Divers Diseases: Or why I don’t lament the passing of the KJV

As this past Sunday was the Fourth Sunday of Easter, Good Shepherd Sunday, we read, as we do every year, Psalm 23. At the 10:00 service, the choir sang a setting of it. At 8:00, we read the BCP version. It stuck in my craw, as it did for most of those in the congregation, our average age being well over 50. We wanted to recite the version we had memorized: “The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want…”

This is the 400th anniversary of the KJV, something I have already mentioned more than once on this blog, and an anniversary deserving of attention. There’s a great site here, with profound essays by the likes of Robert Alter. I agree with those who praise the beauty of the translation, the power of the words. But the Bible is also meant to be understood. And I, for one, am grateful for modern translations that bring the language and ideas of 2000 or 3000 years ago to life for people in the 21st century.

For all of the power and beauty of the KJV, what I remember most as a child is listening to people trying to read it out loud and make sense of it for themselves and convey that meaning to a congregation. More often than not, it came across as a foreign language. The words I remember best after forty years are hearing farmers struggle to read Paul to a congregation. I puzzled then, and I’m sure everyone else did, over Paul’s list of afflictions that included “divers diseases.” I wondered what they were, and how he acquired them by diving into the Mediterranean.

The KJV, for all of its beauty is as alien a language to the twenty-first century, as Latin was to the people of England in the 16th.

Stephen Hawking says heaven is a fairy tale–why is anyone surprised?

Perhaps the only thing more surprising than his rejection of heaven is that it continues to get press. More interesting is why someone who is obviously brilliant lacks the imagination to explore the human quest for meaning and purpose.

Hawking:

“I regard the brain as a computer which will stop working when its components fail. There is no heaven or afterlife for broken down computers; that is a fairy story for people afraid of the dark,”

Rabbi Brad Hirschfield’s response in Huffington Post seems to emphasize that it is impolite for someone to denigrate another’s beliefs; although he also makes the distinction between knowledge and belief.

Mark Vernon reports on a rather more interesting exchange between Rowan Williams and A.C. Grayling. The atheist and the ABC agreed on a great deal in their debate:

  • – that an engagement with life begins with wonder;
  • – that there is a natural law which reveals a minimal amount required for our flourishing;
  • – that happiness is not a feeling but has to do with entering deeply into the relationships that surround us;
  • – that the passions need educating, not least passions like anger;
  • – that the stoic aim of becoming attuned with life is key – even or especially when it demands of us a noble response to suffering.
  • Grayling was even content to use a word that comes naturally to Williams, spirituality, when spirituality has to do with the remarkable sense that we owe something of ourselves to life because of all life has given us.

But there were differences. Apparently someone asked about love:

Williams was at last on territory he would have chosen. Religion is not like obeying a code of conduct that governs the relationships between a high god and subservient human beings, he explained. Rather, it is about coming to see yourself in a radically fresh way, as a result of seeing yourself as made in the image of God. We are all alienated from this truth, but can be brought back to it, he continued, explaining he’d witnessed as much just the other day in a prison, when a man who had committed terrible crimes had come to a moment of repentance and had been surprised at seeing ‘me as me’ for the first time.

Here’s Vernon’s account of Grayling’s response:

Grayling responded that the ancient injunction to know thyself is certainly vital, and that caring for even the most violent of our fellows in prisons is a profoundly hopeful mark of the humanity of our civilisation. Absolutely. But that didn’t quite seem to capture the hope of being drawn by love back to love which came through in Williams’ answer.

Are you ready for the Rapture?

Killing the Buddha just might be the best way to follow this week’s Rapturemania. It’s a great site overall and their coverage on Harold Camping is great.

KtB editor Nathan Schneider has an essay elsewhere. In it, he admits to his own youthful apocalyptic fervor, including ritual listening to Harold Camping’s radio show. He has been following Camping’s movement and has this to say:

Some of my encounters with the 2012 crowd, however, have actually made me more tolerant of apocalyptic date-setting. While reporting on colonies of American expatriates in Costa Rica, I met 2012 adherents who dared to live quite impressive lives off the grid, growing their own food and pioneering new kinds of sustainable living. The prospect of an impending end can paradoxically motivate people to work toward a better future.

Ted Cox reports on his visit to the offices of Camping’s Family Radio and interviews Tom Evans. Money quote:

What will he do if he wakes up May 22? Grab coffee? Come in to work?

“No, it’s far more serious than that,” he replies. “I’ve said if you boil everything down it’s really trusting the Bible. If you can’t trust the Bible, then you got nothing. There’s no truth.”

I used to tell my students that of all Christian doctrines, the one for which their was incontrovertible proof of its falsehood was the belief that Jesus Christ was coming back soon. A close second is all of those people over the centuries who have given a certain date for Jesus’ return. They have all been proven false. Still, the apocalypse lures us in.

On a lighter note:

Moral advice for those who expect to be raptured:

And if you’ve got nothing planned for the day after: