New Year's Day

"Well, that'll learn him!" I can almost hear the grizzly badgers in my former churches after both the Queen's Christmas Day message and the Archbishop of Canterbury's New Year message today on the subject of the 400th anniversary of the Authorised (or King James', as it seems fashionable to call it) Version of The Bible. I raised great ire in some quarters by introducing a dynamic equivalent translation, the Good News Version, for use in church. In fact it was not done without consultation or off my own bat, but vicars exist to stop the buck.

My answer was to point to William Tyndale, the first English translator of the Bible. I like this lively description, by Alice Brewer, apparently aged 10, in the Tyndale Archive: "To a 15th century farmer, the Bible was just a big book full of unreadable words and made-up rules. This was because priests in those times insisted on the Bible being in Latin. They said the Bible was a holy book, and shouldn’t be allowed to be read by any old sinful peasant. Really, they wanted it to be in a language only they could understand so they could make up a bunch of silly laws to suit themselves, then get away with it by saying "It says so in the Bible." They thought no-one would ever know different, and no-one would ever try and reveal the truth. And no-one did, until Tyndale came along...." (http://www.tyndalearchive.com/Brewer/Alice/WilliamT.htm)

From the Tyndale archive

Having taught English for many years I'm aware that for all the beauty of the 17th-century prose, much of the AV is actually inaccessible to the average reader - who's much more likely to read and understand The Sun or The Mirror than The Telegraph or The Independent. And the Bible contains good news for all people. When challenged by a grouchy priest one day, Tyndale's reputed reply was, "If God spare my life, before very long I shall cause a plough boy to know the scriptures better than you do!" In the end he was martyred for his work, but he had set in motion a tradition of putting the Bible within the reach of everyone who could read, of which the placing of the Authorised Version in every church in the land, was the fruit.

One of my favourite verses which I still prefer in that version over any other is: Whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report; if there be any virtue, and if there be any praise, think on these things.' Might be a good motto for this year.

However the fact that there are versions which are now more comprehensible to people at large does not diminish or undermine the unique importance of the AV. Its influence on language, literature, culture, ethics and in fact on the whole of our heritage is unparalleled. But Rowan Williams pointed out its most significant contribution, which he summarised as: "for people to make sense of their lives, it helps to have a strongly defined story in the background, that tells us that we all matter" - whether we feel it or not, and whatever our circumstances. As well as referring to the Psalms, he showed us the words, "For God so loved the world... that he gave his only begotten Son." That is why we all matter.

I trust you enjoy 2011 and know, without doubt, that you matter, you are infinitely significant.

Happy Easter

Saturday dawned and I looked forward to a quiet day before the Easter Vigil in the evening. Turned on the Today programme and heard their first headline: 'The Archbishop of Canterbury has said the Roman Catholic Church in Ireland has "lost all credibility" over the way it dealt with paedophile priests.' 'Hmm!' I thought. 'That doesn't sound much like the Rowan Williams I know and respect. I can't see him undermining a sister church like that.' Of course it was based on one sentence taken out of context in a programme to be broadcast two days later on Radio 4. A misquoted sentence what's more. The Archbishop is very careful with his choice of words. He is both a poet and a Christian of immense charitableness. 

The headline and news item gave the impression that he thought the Irish Church had lost all credibility. I decided I'd listen to the programme this morning. Meanwhile I wondered who decided this would lead the news the day before Easter when the broadcast would be not be till Monday, and I remembered the Ray Gosling incident which didn't become news until after that broadcast. I know I mustn't get paranoid, and at least the BBC continues the custom of playing one verse of 'When I survey the wondrous cross' at 7 am on Good Friday. But still....


By Easter morning the BBC was still running the story with different wording: the Church was 'losing all credibility', but the story now was the indignant reaction of Catholic bishops. Of course he'd been quick to apologise to the Irish Archbishop Martin for the offence his words had caused. Actually, he wasn't saying he thought the Catholic Church was totally discredited in his opinion. He was describing the way it felt in public perception. Funnily enough in the programme itself today, 'Start the Week' with Andrew Marr, he appeared with two atheists, Philip Pullman and David Baddiel, and Professor Mona Siddiqi, the Muslim scholar - and he was full of graciousness. Condemning others was far from his spirit and far from the spirit of all his comments, including what he said about Ireland. I couldn't help thinking how remote was the possibility of the BBC apologising for misquoting and, more importantly, misrepresenting him. If not mischievous, it was careless.


Saturday afternoon: The boat race - Cambridge, the underdogs, won!!! 


In our light blue car that evening, Jane and I drove into Oxford at 8 and parked next to the University Athletics Ground. It was raining; so we sat in the car until Stephen and Luke Lehmann, the rising young hairstylist from London (www.lukelehmann.com), arrived and we made our way to the fire outside Greyfriars for the lighting of the Paschal candle. When the procession went up the steps into the church, Jane pushed me round the side way into the darkened church.


It was an emotional service, both the celebration of Jesus' resurrection with light bursting into the darkness and the renewal of baptism vows, and our son being welcomed into his new church. Afterwards, wine and warm cross buns and friendly talk in the refectory. What a great start to Easter! And so home by midnight. 

Christ is risen. Alleluia, alleluia!

He is risen indeed. Alleluia, alleluia!