By Lenet H. Read

Gifts of Sacrifice and Love

Lenet H. Read, “How the Bible Came to Be: Part 1, A Testament Is Established,” Ensign, Jan. 1982, 36
A certain Christian man laboring in India offered to give interested natives a copy of the Bible. After hearing of its message, many eagerly responded. One old man, looking upon the Bible with reverence, asked, “How long has this book been in the world?” When he learned it had existed for centuries, he sorrowfully shook his head. “I am an old man. All my friends have died hopeless. … And all this time the book was here and nobody brought it to me.” 1 How quickly he sensed the worth of his new possession: a record of God’s dealings with man from the time of the Creation.

The Bible is indeed a book of immense consequence. Book of Mormon prophets who in visions saw it come forth testified of its great value. For Lehi, the word of God was the physical reality behind the iron rod that led unwaveringly to the tree of life. (See 1 Ne. 15:23-24.) For Nephi, the Jewish record was the “book of the Lamb of God” (1 Ne. 13:28), not fully whole nor pure, but nevertheless of great worth. Indeed, the record was so vital that Lehi was commanded to take a copy of one record as then compiled—the brass plates—with him to the promised land, in spite of jeopardy to his sons’ lives and the ultimate cost of Laban’s.

But we also learn from the Book of Mormon how generally unappreciated the biblical record is. In his prophecies about the future, Nephi speaks of lack of gratitude to the Jews for their great sacrifices in bringing forth their books: “What thank they the Jews for the Bible which they receive from them? … Do they remember the travails, and the labors, and the pains of the Jews, and their diligence unto me, in bringing forth salvation unto the Gentiles? … Have ye obtained a Bible save it were by the Jews?” (2 Ne. 29:4, 6.)

Surely the sacrifices the Jews have made in bringing forth and preserving precious records through many centuries of trials and tribulations are immense. Yet that is only a part of the story. The whole history of the formation of the Bible, Old Testament and New, and of the efforts to preserve it and to place it in the tongues of common men is a fascinating story both of special blessing by God and of utmost sacrifice by man.

We begin here several articles about the formation, step by step, of the Bible. The stories to be told contain the best elements of storytelling: conflict, pathos, tragedy, irony, humor, awe—even intrigue. We should learn much. But hopefully we will gain most of all a deep appreciation for the heavy cost—in self-denial and in lives—by which we have obtained these holy messages.

Precisely how and when did the “record of the Jews” begin? Most scholars say we don’t know, that the stories were passed down orally, that “other than oral” communication began with hieroglyphics and evolved into writing. They say that the records we have of the Creation and the first patriarch came from several unknown sources at much later dates and were somehow untidily interwoven into the Genesis account.

But Latter-day Saints have a different understanding. By revealing to the Prophet Joseph Smith the writings of Moses, the Lord revealed anew to mankind when and how the record began.

“And a book of remembrance was kept … in the language of Adam, for it was given unto as many as called upon God to write by the spirit of inspiration.”

“And by them their children were taught to read and write, having a language which was pure and undefiled. …

“And this was the book of the generations of Adam, saying: In the day that God created man, in the likeness of God made he him.” (Moses 6:5, 6, 8.)

Thus we learn through revelation that after man’s creation, he was not left ignorant of his origins. From the beginning he was given a knowledge of writing and thereafter recorded his origins and all things that happened to him. (See Moses 6:5-6.) The “record of the Jews,” then, has it roots not in an accident or an afterthought, but in a gift of love from a wise and loving Creator.

In view of current scholarly opinions, these are bold assertations. Nevertheless, with the uncovering today of more and more ancient writings, there is a small but growing list of external evidences that the book of Moses’ account of the beginning of written history is correct. Dr. Hugh Nibley has detailed the kinds of findings now uncovered. Of particular interest because it highlights the value of the ancient texts is a statement found in the writing of a pharaoh who lived long before Christ in the Thirteenth Dynasty: “My heart yearned to behold the most ancient books of Atum [Adam]. Open them before me for diligent searching, that I may know god as he really is!” 2 Early Jewish apocryphal texts also equate Adam with writing, and ancient cultures have left evidence of a belief that writing came not through man, but was a gift handed down from heaven. 3

In addition, a leather scroll which may be the oldest book yet found has surprised scholars with its remarkably well-developed teachings of a “council in heaven, the creation of the world, the fall of man, and the means by which he may achieve resurrection and be reinstated in his primal glory.” 4

But the most important aspect of all this evidence is the excitement it should give us to recognize anew what a treasure we have. Dr. Nibley builds upon a suggestion that the semitic alphabet almost seems to have been devised for the very purpose of recording scriptures: “Whoever reads the standard works today has before him the words of God to men from the beginning, in witness of which the very letters on the page are but slightly conventionalized forms of the original symbols in which the message was conveyed. … As members of the human race we are bound to approach the scriptures with new feelings of reverence and respect.” 5 What a difference it makes to know that the Bible did not begin in uncertain origin or with uncertain authority, but was given to man from the beginning as an essential tool to prepare him for salvation!

Latter-day revelation has also shown that the pattern of record-keeping established by Adam was continued by succeeding patriarchs who added accounts of their own days. Enoch speaks of the record of his fathers:

“And death hath come upon our fathers; nevertheless we know them, and cannot deny, and even the first of all we know, even Adam.

“For a book of remembrance we have written among us.” (Moses 6:45, 46.)

Abraham testified that the process of adding to the record continued after the flood and included his own additions:

“But the records of the fathers, even the patriarchs … the Lord my God preserved in mine own hands; therefore a knowledge of the beginning of the creation, and also of the planets, and of the stars, as they were made known unto the fathers, have I kept even unto this day, and I shall endeavor to write some of these things upon this record, for the benefit of my posterity that shall come after me.” (Abr. 1:31.)

Part of the calling of the patriarch/prophet was to make a record of his days. Thus, in relay form records from earlier patriarchs were handed down, and later prophets synthesized them, incorporated their own records, and passed them on again to yet future generations.

Although Latter-day Saint scriptures for over a hundred and fifty years have described this process, non-LDS clues are only now being found by scholars of the world. Among some of the most interesting manuscript finds of recent years are works bearing the names of ancient patriarchs. We must remember that these manuscripts are generally not the original writings, but they form a tradition that witnesses that original documents once existed.

These recent finds are of keen interest to Latter-day Saints because in spite of their corruptions they all contain a basic pattern which coincides with the experiences of the prophets whose records came into the hands of Joseph Smith. To summarize this pattern, each prophet separately testifies that he, deeply distressed by the sinfulness of his day, and desiring to serve God, was moved to seek the Lord earnestly. Each was subsequently given a vision in which he beheld God and portions of His glory. As part of this vision, he is taught a plan of salvation, beholds many worlds besides this one, and is shown the history of the earth. Then he is authorized and admonished to preach repentance unto his people. Sometimes there is a brief interlude between a first and second vision in which the prophet is confronted by Satan, who seeks to thwart God’s work through temptation and fear. 6

The repetitiveness of this basic pattern can add much to our understanding of the fuller record upon which the biblical account draws. The Pearl of Great Price tells us why the Bible is missing the fuller story: “And now of this thing Moses bore record; but because of wickedness [lack of belief?] it is not had among the children of men.” (Moses 1:23.)

Man’s scientific pursuit of knowledge of his origins surely will eventually lead him to some truths. But in the meantime, he is susceptible to many false conclusions. For example, discovered in ruins of Israel’s neighboring cultures are stories similar to those in Genesis—such as the Creation and the Flood. Their discovery made it popular for a time to suggest that Israel had borrowed its “history” from myths of surrounding cultures. However, as time has brought new discoveries, the older, clearer, and much more believable records fall back into Israel’s line. 7 And it is now more accepted among scholars that it was Israel’s history which gave rise to or was borrowed by others. With the fragments of truth which they borrowed or inherited, other ancient cultures built wild fantasies as they separated themselves further from the doctrines sustaining the stories. In the case of the Egyptians, their records became a grab bag full of unsorted and unclear beliefs and ideas. While their collection contained fragments of truth, those fragments were lost in a maze of confusion.

Another striking distinction separating Israel’s earliest records from those of her neighbors is the hope underlying Israel’s record. The prophets showed that meaning, purpose, and order control man’s existence; if to Israel God did not always appear merciful, he at least operated with reasoned justice, and there was always the promise of God’s prophesied redemption.

Thus while neighboring cultures had bits and pieces of truth, their records and therefore their understanding were corrupted. On the other hand, fuller records of truth were meticulously kept, and the patriarchs took pains to see that the truths were passed on to other generations in as uncorrupted a form as possible. Thus, in spite of errors that have crept into them over the centuries, these records have come to us as an essential part of our true and priceless heritage.

Moses’ Hand upon the Record

Although Adam and succeeding patriarchs left records, the first five books of the Old Testament are identified as “the writings of Moses.” How did Moses come to receive credit for these essential books?

One theory holds that such credit is misleading. A number of Christian scholars point to evidence suggesting that several persons, probably none of them Moses, wrote these books. They point out that Moses’ death is a part of the record and show how the books are written in differing styles and points of view.

Without further elaboration upon this theory, which has become widely accepted in scholarship, let’s examine what the Pearl of Great Price tells us: “The Lord spake unto Moses, saying: Behold, I reveal unto you concerning this heaven, and this earth; write the words which I speak. … In the beginning I created the heaven.” (Moses 2:1; italics added.)

We see that Moses did make a record and that he was instructed to begin with the Creation.

But what about the changes in writing style? The continuing discovery of ancient records contradicts the theory that style changes in the Pentateuch (Moses’ five books) indicate multiple authorship. As other manuscripts of that general age and area are carefully studied, it is seen that ancient peoples commonly used a variety of styles in one composition. Therefore some scholars think now that archaeological discoveries have rendered unsound the trend to find many unknown sources behind each book of the Bible.

Still, it is not necessary to argue that Moses’ hand was the only one that touched the papyrus. Joseph Smith and other prophets used scribes to assist them, and we know that Moses understood the principle of delegation. With the major responsibilities that were his, it is likely that he assigned scribes to carry out, under his direction, part of the actual work of record-keeping, including the scribe who completed the record after Moses’ death.

Furthermore, as we learn from the Book of Mormon and the Pearl of Great Price, some prophets were instructed to edit and abridge the records as they passed them along. So in addition to writing down his own revelations, Moses may have edited previous writings. And his writings may have been edited later by others. The point remains that as long as Moses was the motivating force behind the compilation of the Pentateuch and was its principal author or reviewer, it justifiably bears his name.

The Book—Lost and Found

The law given through Moses differs from written law possessed by other ancient cultures during the same time period: instead of dealing with possessions only, Israel’s law reflected the value of importance of the people. These important laws, covenants, and commandments came with a built-in warning:

“And these words, which I command thee this day, shall be in thine heart:

“And thou shalt teach them diligently unto thy children, and shalt talk of them when thou sittest in thine house, and when thou walkest by the way, and when thou liest down, and when thou risest up. …

“And they shall be as frontlets between thine eyes.” (Deut. 6:6-8.)

The purpose of this warning? That they might never be forgotten.

And yet, they were forgotten.

Much of Israel’s story revolves around the people’s failure to remember their beginnings and the message of the Law and to adhere to its recorded covenants—even though the Law had been written and placed in the most sacred of all places, the ark of the covenant. There were a few faithful who remembered: Samuel “let none of [God’s] words fall to the ground.” (1 Sam. 3:19.) But the obedience of the people generally was not nearly so great. Not only did they forget the words of the book, but they also forgot the book itself, which had been transferred to the temple along with the ark of the covenant.

The Babylonian captivity cut the Israelites off even further from the book by cutting them off from their temple and its sacred instruments. When some of them returned many years later, among the foremost happenings associated with their freedom was the reading of the sacred words. Ezra, the scribe, was asked to read to them again that which had become only dim memory. The story is very touching: the people gathered “as one man” to hear; the reading was “from the morning until midday,” and “the ears of all the people were attentive.” They wept, they worshipped, and they rejoiced. (See Neh. 8:1-12.)

So significant was this rereading of the Law that Israel’s faith became known thereafter as “the religion of the Book.”

These stories of books lost then found probably have symbolic significance. Dr. Nibley asserts:

“The idea of the holy book that is taken away from the earth and restored from time to time, or is handed down secretly from father to son for generations, or hidden up in the earth, preserved by ingenious methods of storage with precious imperishable materials to be brought forth in a later and more righteous generation (e.g., Moses 1:41) is becoming increasingly familiar with the discovery and publication of ever more ancient apocryphal works.” 8

In other words, the lost-then-found status of the Israelites’ ancient records is part of a historical pattern and has a close relationship to the righteousness of the generations to which the records are given.

The Completion of the Old Testament Records

Ezra’s reading is believed to have been the first time interpreters were needed to turn the writings into the spoken language of the people: the book was written in Hebrew, but after the captivity the people spoke Aramaic. Some also believed it was Ezra who began a collection of official Hebrew scriptures after the Babylonian captivity and during the time of Nehemiah. (Latter-day Saints know there was at least one such collection—the brass plates—which Lehi took with him prior to the captivity). Evidently Ezra’s work was to begin to gather some of the records of his people. It was an extremely important and demanding task to collect, sort, rewrite, and finally compile many records into one.

The exact procedure by which some of the many Israelite writings became scripture is too uncertain and too complex to cover here, but scholars agree upon three basic steps. The foundation, of course, was the Pentateuch, historically first and always considered the first in importance. Its words were the first to be read in the synagogues. Next to be added, and therefore next in importance, were works and stories of the prophets, including the historical books written by prophets and books considered prophetic.

But it would be a great mistake to think it was easy for the works of all the prophets to win a place in the Hebrew’s hearts as scriptures. One scholar claims, “At first the validity of the teaching of prophets like Amos, Hosea, Isaiah, Micah, Jeremiah, and Ezekiel was recognized only by the faithful disciples who learned from them and transmitted the traditions of what they had said and done.” 9 These writings did not receive wide public acknowledgement until during and after the exile. What caused this change in status? Very simply, these prophets had prophesied of the fall of Jerusalem and of the Babylonian captivity. After the fact, when the people had seen that their words had come to pass, they accepted them in remorse and repentance as true prophets whose words were worthy to be placed among the sacred scriptures.

An example of the rejection the prophets and their writings experienced before the captivity is seen in the life of Jeremiah. In the year before the coming of Babylon, the Lord commanded Jeremiah to write the prophecies he had been speaking. So Jeremiah dictated to his scribe, Baruch, his witness “against Israel, and against Judah.” Because Jeremiah had been forbidden to preach any more at the temple, Baruch took the roll and read it at the temple on a special day when many were assembled. News of the scroll reached King Jehoiakim, who asked for a reading—but not with willing ears. As the words were read, he cut the scroll with a knife and disdainfully cast it into the fire.

Although the king also sought to harm Jeremiah and Baruch, they escaped and were commanded by God to write a second roll containing all the words of the first and more. It is believed that we have obtained our Book of Jeremiah from this writing. (See Jer. 36.)

Behind the writings of all the prophets were similar trials, sufferings, and accusations. Most were rejected, mocked, scorned. Jeremiah was for a time cast into a deep dungeon where he lay in mire and was given only bread to eat.

For the most part, those who forewarned the people of impending captivity and exile did not escape that fate themselves but experienced the same sufferings as their people. But out of that suffering they prophesied and wrote of the days when God’s people would again be released and redeemed.

Just as the prophetic utterances of these prophets were only belatedly recognized, by 200 B.C. the people began to believe that all prophecy had ceased. Consequently, there was little “prophecy” added to the sacred collection. There is now evidence that there continued to be prophets, but most of the people, never comprehending their true needs, believed they had all of the scriptures they needed, and rejected the thought of more.

Last to win a place among the sacred collection were the “Writings,” works such as Psalms, Proverbs, Job, and Esther. Although accepted into the collection, the “writings” never equalled the first two sections in importance in the eyes of Jewish leaders. Of this group, only the Psalms were used in worship, although many of the “Writings” came to be traditionally read at various religious festivals.

The order in which the books appear in our present Old Testament is not the order in which they were written, nor the exact order in which they were accepted as canon. The current arrangement follows that of the Septuagint (which we’ll speak of later), which uses a pattern based on subject matter: Law, History, Poetry, Prophecy. This system is claimed to be educational, since it traces the progress of revelation. First it relates events of the past (Law and History); then the poetic books speak of things pertaining to their own time; finally the books of prophecy, although delivering a contemporary message, are perceived as speaking to the future.

Of course there were many writings that for some reason did not make it at all into the completed canon. We know there were others because the writers of our books refer as resources to the books of Jasher, of Samuel the Seer, of Nathan the prophet, of Jehu, and of the Kings of Israel. The reasons each was excluded are unknown.

Thus, the works and words of Israel’s prophets gradually were shaped into a record. But the birth process was scarcely painless. Jeremiah most poignantly recorded the great burden of being mouthpiece for the Lord. “Oh Lord, … I am in derision daily, every one mocketh me. For since I spake, I cried out, I cried violence and spoil: … the word of the Lord was made a reproach unto me, and a derision, daily. Then I said, I will not make mention of him, nor speak any more in his name. But his word was in mine heart as a burning fire shut up in my bones, and I was weary with forbearing, and I could not stay.” (Jer. 20:7-9.)

End of Part 1. To be continued next month.

Gospel topics: Bible, scriptures

[illustrations] Illustrated by Robert Barrett

By Lenet H. Read

Gifts of Sacrifice and Love

Ancient Methods of Keeping Records

Lenet H. Read, “How the Bible Came to Be: Part 2, The Word Is Preserved,” Ensign, Feb. 1982, 32
There were several ways to record and preserve records anciently—none of them easy. The most common was to use papyrus, made from pith scraped from the papyrus plant, then wetted and pressed together. Scribes could write on both the front and back. (See Ezek. 2:10.) For more space, additional scrolls could be pasted at the bottom, the whole being rolled around rods. Some rolls may have reached as long as thirty-five feet, though such length would obviously become very clumsy and unwieldy.

Clay tablets were also written upon and then baked in the sun or in kilns. More durable than papyrus, clay tablets are more commonly discovered in ancient ruins.

Records were also made upon writing-boards—flat boards of wood or ivory cut out in such a way that an inlay of wax could be written upon. The boards were hinged together to become a folding book. Perhaps this is the kind of record Ezekiel is referring to when he speaks of the sticks of Judah and Ephraim being joined into one stick. (See Ezek. 37:16-17.)

Animal skin (leather) was also used by the Hebrews. And for very significant religious records, metals were used. (Laban’s brass plates are an example.)

While we can mention all these methods quite easily in passing, we do the ancient scribes injustice if we do not at least acknowledge the great hand labor required to prepare these writing materials before even one letter could ever be set down upon them. The process of writing is tedious and immensely challenging even under the best of conditions. To expend all the energies necessary to write in those days with what we would consider inadequate light, awkward writing instruments, difficult writing materials, and uncomfortable surroundings would incur sacrifices which we can only vaguely imagine.

The preservation of records was of great concern to the Hebrews. From the first, scriptures were treated with the utmost care: Moses’ writings were preserved in the ark of the covenant. The scriptures record the names of those who were called to be state scribes, for this was considered an office of very great importance. Senior scribes were even given their own rooms in the palaces and temples. Ancient writings remained only in the hands of priests and were read only by scribes. Each scroll had to be copied directly from another scroll, and until the destruction of the temple, official copies were taken directly from the master copy in the temple. The official scrolls were the most holy objects in the synagogue and were treated in every way like treasures.

New scribes were carefully instructed about the sacredness of their task: “My son, be careful in thy work, for it is heavenly work, lest thou err in omitting or in adding one jot [the smallest letter in the Hebrew alphabet] and so cause the destruction of the whole world.” 1

Style and Form

The scriptures are far more than just history: they are the word of the Lord. As such, they deserve to be put in the most beautiful setting possible. And, for the most part, they were, even though each writer spoke out of his own time and culture, and in spite of human weaknesses. The record is not merely prose: it is rhythmic prose, and often even poetry. In fact, several of the prophetic books are in part or almost wholly poetic, although we may not recognize this at first since Hebrew poetry differs from English poetry. Rather than using a repetition of sounds for effectiveness, Hebrew poetry achieves its impact through a rhythmic repetition and balance of ideas, either similar or contrasting. This style carries truth to the ear in a more powerful, more pleasing, more memorable way. Imagine, to be prophet and poet both!

But surely poetic gifts did not come readily. We can only imagine the many additional hours, the greater mental fatigue, the greater patience required to work and rework, to write and rewrite the scriptures until the form was rhythmic and the imagery and language poetic.

This quality of the Hebrew scriptures augments another unique quality: history saturated with similitudes and prophecies of Christ, the ultimate Suffering Servant. Some of the Hebrew authors not only wrote about, but also experienced their prophecies. One was asked to offer a son as sacrifice; another struggled through a wilderness as savior to a rebellious and bondaged people. It is only when we realize that their ultimate gift to the word of God was the lives they led that we can fully grasp just how much they really gave for the sake of truth.

The Challenges of Translation

Aramaic is generally thought to have been the general tongue of the Hebrews after their Babylonian captivity. Since it was also the language used in trade and diplomatic relations over a wide area, it became entrenched as the everyday speech of the inhabitants of Judah. Therefore, from the fourth century B.C., the Hebrew scriptures were an enigma for most Jews unless translated for them. Yet at that point, according to Jewish tradition, written translations were forbidden, as if the language and the concepts were inseparable. Oral translations were permitted, but only by official synagogue translators. Even then, the translation had to be done verse by verse in the Torah and at least after every third verse in the “Prophets.” 2

The oral translations, or Targums, were more than just translations. They were interpretation and explanation, sometimes even extending into sermons. The religious leaders found these methods actually useful in overcoming what they felt were easily misunderstood passages. An example used by one scholar of explanatory translation is that given for Exodus 24:10 [Ex. 24:10] which states, “And they saw the God of Israel.” In Aramaic it would be translated and interpreted, “And they saw the glory of the God of Israel.” 3 It is particularly interesting that the passages indicating an anthropomorphic (physical) God were the ones most often explained away. It is not surprising, then, that when One arrived a few centuries later claiming to be the Son of God, his claim was met with hostility: the rejection of a God with a body of flesh and bones had begun long before.

Eventually, written Targums were also allowed, but the translations had to be written between the lines of the Hebrew on the scrolls. Translation into Aramaic became quite extensive: remnants of Targums of almost all the books of the Old Testament have been discovered.

But there was a need for other translations as well. With the conquest of Palestine by Alexander the Great in 333 B.C., there was another dispersion of Jews, this time to Egypt. Again, many who adapted themselves to living in other lands never returned. Now there were two major centers of the Diaspora (scattering): Babylon and Alexandria. Alexander’s conquests had spread the use of Greek throughout a very wide area, and Greek became the language used in commercial and literary enterprises. Most Jews living in lands other than Judah became Greek-speaking.

And so around 250 B.C. a translation was made of the Hebrew scriptures into Greek. How it came about is highly debatable. One ancient account, popular among early Christians but viewed as legend by scholars today, is contained in a narrative called the “Letter of Aristeas.” According to this story, King Ptolemy of Egypt heard of the excellent Jewish records and desired a copy in Greek for his growing library. To obtain them, he sent a group, including Aristeas, to the high priest in Jerusalem, loaded with presents. The Jews agreed to his offer and sent scholars back to Egypt to carry out the translative work. According to the legend, each of these seventy-two elders worked upon the translations separately, but when they compared the results of their progress, their renderings were identical. The work was accomplished within a period of seventy-two days. Because of these elements of seventy—seventy-two elders and seventy-two days—the work came to be known as the Septuagint, Latin for seventy. 4

Modern scholars obviously have doubts about the authenticity of such a legend. Generally, they do agree that the translation probably occurred in Alexandria and that it was probably done by Jewish translators from Jerusalem. Regardless of its exact origins, the Septuagint was well accepted by the Jews of Alexandria, and, as we will see later, became a powerful influence in later years.

The Old Testament during the Time of Christ

What became the record of the Jews, though sparse in parts, had been built step by step from the time of Adam. It had grown to a collection of many sacred writings and had been translated into the changing common languages of the people. But now its very Author, the One from whom it had all originally sprung, appeared upon the scene. The scriptures themselves relate this wondrous happening:

“In the beginning was the Word, … and the Word was God. … And the Word was made flesh, and dwelt among us.” (John 1:1, 14.)

He who from the beginning had uttered the words which prophets had written and man had studied and vocalized and repeated—he of whom all the scriptures had borne witness—came among his people. Although they possessed his words, they understood them not, and he rebuked them, saying, “Ye do err, not knowing the scriptures.” (Matt. 22:29.)

And although they possessed his words, they did them not, and he rebuked them, saying, “The scribes and the Pharisees sit in Moses’ seat: All therefore whatsoever they bid you observe, that observe and do; but do not ye after their works: for they say, and do not.” (Matt. 23:2-3.)

While in the flesh, he repeated his word in awesome irony: “Did ye never read in the scriptures, The stone which the builders rejected, the same is become the head of the corner?” (Matt. 21:42.)

And finally, he fulfilled his word before their very eyes and even at their doing. His atonement, crucifixion, and resurrection were the fulfillment of all that the prophets had spoken.

After his resurrection, he showed his disciples how the Old Testament had borne witness of all the events which had just come to pass. On the road to Emmaus those who walked with him exclaimed, “Did not our heart burn within us … while he opened to us the scriptures?” (Luke 24:32.)

And then he departed, and his disciples were left to take the joyful news that the old word—the laws, prophecies, and covenants—had been fulfilled through Christ’s life and death.

The basic scripture of the earliest Christians was the Septuagint, the Hebrew record translated into Greek. But the record was used in a new way—as a witness of Christ. It was in this role that the Septuagint began to play a very important part. When the Christian message began to spread outside the borders of Palestine, the Septuagint became the main instrument of teaching and conversion. Already in the international tongue of Greek, it allowed a rapid spreading of the gospel to many nations. (And interestingly, its name, Septuagint, takes on new meaning: it became a missionary—a seventy—to all the nations.)

Several incidents in the New Testament detail conversions occurring through the use of the Old Testament. One missionary, Apollos, “mightily convinced the Jews, and that publicly, shewing by the scriptures [the Old Testament] that Jesus was Christ.” (Acts 18:28.)

The Hebrew records, then, were not abandoned by the first Christians. Rather, they were studied even more diligently, but with new eyes. Unlike the unconverted Jews, who believed these records contained all, Christians (both Jewish and gentile) were taught that they contained but the first step—testaments which would lead to new life through the Savior.

Just as there emerged vast differences in the way Jew and Christian interpreted the ancient writings, so there were some differences in the actual manuscripts they used. There are differences in the wording found in Greek and Hebrew scrolls. The Septuagint’s “a virgin shall conceive” was “a young woman” in the later Masoretic version. Exactly how and at what point such differences emerged is uncertain. 5

In addition, early Christian Apostles made reference to teachings found in writings attributed to Moses and Enoch but which are not found in scriptures possessed by traditional Judaism. Various manuscripts discovered in modern times claim that after his resurrection Christ himself gave his Apostles certain ancient writings the Jews didn’t possess. 6

After the Time of Christ

The fact that the Septuagint was being utilized so extensively by Christ’s followers was greatly disturbing to rabbinic Jews. Disavowing the Septuagint, they prepared translations of the Greek that were more acceptable to them, making references to an anthropomorphic God less obvious. 7

Many events at this time had devastating impact upon the Jews: the rise of Christianity, which, to them, was a major apostasy; Christianity’s misappropriation of their scriptures; the fall of Jerusalem; and the second destruction of the temple. These events caused them to reexamine the status of their records. Since the temple, their central place of worship, had again been destroyed, they became even more “the religion of the book,” for the book was the only religious thing of a physical nature left to them. 8

Sometime during the first century the Jews made a final determination of what constituted authoritative Jewish scriptures. There is evidence that the Council of Jamnia in A.D. 90 may have been the culmination of this effort, for the council debated the authority of certain books and established a fixed canon of Judaic writings. 9 Among books not included were some accepted by the Christians. Apocalyptic writings, in particular, were the ones most consistently discriminated against and have survived (except for Daniel and parts of Ezekiel, Isaiah, and Zechariah) only in non-canonical works. 10

To ensure thereafter that the canon would be preserved uniformally, all future Hebrew manuscripts were made to conform to a certain pattern, and variant texts were destroyed or suppressed. 11

Much of the work of preserving the Hebrew scriptures through the centuries after Christ was accomplished by the Masoretes, traditional Jewish scholars who worked in Palestine and Babylon between the sixth and tenth centuries A.D. The Hebrew manuscript with which they dealt was a solid mass of consonants: there were no written vowels, no word separations, no punctuations. The tedious work of transcribing and the lack of space had led Hebrew scribes to utilize this shorthand system. Regarding the text as sacred, the Masoretes were reluctant to insert vowels, but they developed a system of using dots and dashes which stood for certain vowels. In essence, they were filling out the words without changing the consonantal text. 12

The copying methods of the Masoretes were strictly prescribed by Talmudic law. Among the rules were the following: (1) A synagogue roll had to be written on skins of clean animals prepared specifically by a synagogue Jew. (2) Only authentic copies were to be recopied, and scribes were not to deviate in the least. (3) Nothing must be written from memory. 13

For years, scholars searching for original copies of our scriptures were unable to find any Old Testament copies in Hebrew older than the ninth century A.D. Part of the reason for this is that as new copies were made, the old were burned or buried. 14 Though parts of some manuscripts eventually turned up, the real breakthrough came in the 1940s when the Dead Sea Scrolls were discovered. Among the scrolls were one of Isaiah and portions of other Old Testament books. Although they agree generally with later copies, there are also important points of divergence, enough to arouse some belief that variant pristine texts once existed. 15

Although the Old Testament has been canonized and theoretically completed, scholars today still search for its sources and for its original texts.

Regardless of its failings, the Old Testament as preserved by the Jews deserves high tribute. It is praised by scholars of many faiths. Some point out that unlike the tales of other Near Eastern cultures, archaeological evidence shows that Israel’s story is true history and deserves praise for its respect for fact—particularly since respect for fact did not generally prevail during the time of its writing. Others point out that while neighboring cultures had records of beliefs and ways of life, these beliefs died and are known now only because of excavations centuries later.

But the Jewish history and record of beliefs, far from dying and being buried, “has provided a continuing tradition and a source of constant study; people have read it, re-examined it and lived by it.” 16

Thus, from the beginning, the word went forth from God. Men received it and sought to hold on to it. Though some was lost, much was saved. Our eighth article of faith recognizes this fact, and yet it affirms the record’s divine origin, and that it must be read with an ear tuned to the voice of the Spirit. Although we look forward to the time when the records will be whole, that which we now have is reverenced and appreciated.

It is a good foundation upon which many things have been and will yet be built.

End of Part 2. To be continued. Gospel topics: Bible, scriptures

[illustration] Scribes took their work very seriously and were carefully instructed about the sacredness of their task. (Illustrated by Robert Barrett.)

[illustration] Illustrated by Gustave Dore

[illustration] Illustrated by Robert Barrett

By Lenet H. Read

Gifts of Sacrifice and Love

Lenet H. Read, “How the Bible Came to Be: Part 3, A New Word Is Added to the Old,” Ensign, Mar. 1982, 15
Because of the Jews, the Christian era from its beginning possessed a body of scriptures as a unique heritage. But unlike orthodox Jews, who believed the collection to be a completed scripture, Christ’s disciples knew there was now a richer portion. They didn’t abandon the Old Word, for new understanding had made it more precious than ever. But they now had the teachings of the Savior as remembered by the Gospel writers and later augmented by the writings of his Apostles and other early church leaders.

For Bible scholars, there is major uncertainty in our day about what constituted the “New Word” for the early Christians. How accurate, how complete is our modern-day version of it?

The truth is, the records we have—though accepted as scripture and priceless in what they give us—are not totally satisfactory as a complete record. While the four testimonies that bear witness of Christ’s life do so with much power, there are many details of his life that are missing. In Mark’s story, for example, only thirty-one days are accounted for. Furthermore, it has been pointed out that all of the sayings attributed directly to Jesus in the New Testament can be read in just one-half hour. When one considers the numerous occasions on which he taught, and external evidences of the length of his sermons, it becomes obvious that we have only a very small portion of his teachings.

But perhaps the most conspicuous gap in the New Testament accounts is the period after the Lord’s resurrection. We know that at that time he spent forty days with his Apostles—forty days in which his word was expanded upon. How vital these teachings and instructions must have been! Yet they are almost totally missing from our current New Testament.

In spite of these challenges, the New Testament text is still priceless among the written works preserved for mankind. Although not always accurate as translated (see A of F 1:8), this record alone, among the records we have, has the honor of detailing the mortal life and mission of Jesus Christ.

Interestingly, there is a growing body of evidence that the New Testament began as a record of the sayings of Jesus. This, of course, would come as no great surprise to Latter-day Saints, for in the Book of Mormon, the Lord personally instructed the Nephites more than once to “write these sayings after I am gone.” (3 Ne. 16:4; also 3 Ne. 23:4.) Many scholars think that the writers of the first three Gospels in some way used such a record, or at least part of it, as a source for their accounts of Christ’s life.

One scholar, for example, shows that some passages of the first three Gospels dealing with direct quotations are so similar that they present strong evidence of dependence upon the same written source. 1 Furthermore, the similarities exist in such “minute and parenthetical identities of language” that these and other considerations make strong the contention that some written document of Christ’s sayings must have been used. 2

Substantiating evidence comes from a second century bishop, Papias, who claimed it was Matthew who composed this “Logia” (Christ’s oral utterances) in the Hebrew, and that subsequent writers of Gospels translated their work from it. 3 It is more than interesting that some of the most important recent textual discoveries are writings which claim to be “sayings” of the Savior. Particularly exciting are discoveries of teachings claiming to come from the Lord during that forty-day period after his resurrection—an indication that his teachings may have been recorded then but are yet to be found in their fulness and purity. 4

But though there may once have existed a separate record containing the sayings of Jesus, the fact remains that we do not have it. What we do have are four Gospels, or testimonies, each a witness of some of the sayings and events that are associated with Christ.

We know only a little about the stories behind the writing of these Gospels. But we do know enough to know that they derived their authority from the Twelve Apostles. Matthew and John were, of course, among the original Twelve Apostles. (See Luke 6:14-15.) Mark, who was so close to Peter that Peter called him his “son” in the faith (1 Pet. 5:13), may have made his record under Peter’s guidance and authority. 5 The Gospel of Luke and the Acts of the Apostles were both written by Luke, a close companion of Paul (Acts 16:10; Acts 20:6; 2 Tim. 4:11), and therefore bear Paul’s influence. But the authority behind Luke’s account is also derived from Luke’s claim to be a messenger of the Savior and to have sought original sources—the witness of the original Apostles themselves and other eye-witnesses. (See JST, Luke 1:1-4.) The first and best texts of the New Testament, then, like those of the Old, came from the prophets, either by their own hands or by the hands of very close assistants.

But while we must offer high praise to the writers of the four Gospels, who labored greatly in a period of severe persecution to preserve for us these precious accounts, we must also recognize the greater gift behind them—from the Savior himself. His gift, his incredible life, was the “raw material” to which they gave written shape. He was the Word. He was the Old Word being fulfilled, and he was the New Word being lived. This “greatest story ever told” did not spring out of someone’s imagination; rather, its impact and power are inescapably bound to its reality—and more so because it was deliberately lived, even to its utmost bitterness in Gethsemane and on Golgotha.

There are some special values in having four different accounts of Christ’s life. While there are some dissimilarities in them (and numerous theories as to why these dissimilarities exist), we must remember that there is much more unity than disunity. And as A. R. Faussett has pointed out, “Reconcilable diversity is a confirmation of truth, because it disproves collusion, and shews the witnesses to be independent. Sameness in all four gospels would make all but the first mere copies.” 6

The fact is, each gospel contributes its own unique insights and emphasis. Matthew’s special emphasis was on Christ’s teachings, and he also showed special sensitivity to the Lord’s fulfillment of specific Old Testament prophecy. Mark’s emphasis was upon the acts of Christ, as he portrayed the Savior with energy and power. Luke’s emphasis was on the universal nature of Christ’s mission; his account is also the only source for many stories about Christ and teaching he gave that we would otherwise miss. John’s special emphasis was on the divinity of Christ, reminding us always of his true origins. It was John who, by being sensitive to the symbolic meanings of the Savior’s teachings, recorded for us Christ’s teachings that He was the Lamb who would be slain for us, the Bread from Heaven who would nourish us, the Light which would enlighten us, the Vine from which we could draw strength and through which we might bear fruit.

Thus each separate writer of the Gospels adds his gift of enrichment and helps us see the Messiah from many different perspectives.

As we know, after the Gospels and Luke’s account of the Acts of the Apostles, much of the New Testament consists of letters. Having so much of the New Testament in letter form has proved both a strength and a problem for Christianity. The strengths are pointed out by Richard L. Anderson, who shows that beyond their value for spiritual uplift, the letters help verify the accuracy of the history and doctrine expressed in the Gospels. 7

On the other hand, in much of the Christian world the letters have been made to assume a role for which it appears they were never fully intended. The Gospels as we have them focus primarily on the life of Christ, on those teachings that bear witness that he was and is the Christ, and on his teachings about how man ought to live. They do not contain a complete presentation of the full range of gospel doctrines and principles. Generally, therefore, Christian sects have obtained many of their doctrines from the epistles. But the epistles themselves, though they contain doctrine, do so in patches and pieces. Most of them were written in response to specific needs and questions arising in specific geographical areas of the early Church.

Furthermore, they often contained many items of unequal weight and importance, making it difficult at times to determine which passages are statements of doctrine and which are counsel on temporary, immediate problems the Saints faced. The biggest problem is that in the process of answering specific questions, a great deal of information necessary for full understanding was left out, apparently because those to whom the letters were directed were already familiar with the basic principles involved. Thus, many things were only alluded to, such as baptism for the dead and the roles of the various priesthood leaders. It is this “partial explanation only” that has caused confusion for later readers. In fact, it could be argued that this unfortunate lack of clarity of doctrine in what remained as part of the canonized scripture is partially responsible for many of the later divisions of belief among Christian sects.

But though we grieve for that which was lost, we can still rejoice in that which we have in the New Testament record. Even fragments of the Gospels are precious. They are precious for what they contain—and for how we receive them. Almost always, behind every piece of sacred literature, there is a fascinating story. And with the knowledge that revelation never comes easily, the stories behind the formation of scripture surely would prove to be very fascinating.

Unfortunately, in most cases we know little of the specific influences which pressed upon each New Testament writer and brought from his pen God’s word. But we know that the things Christ prophesied to them would come to the minds of his servants. We know that on the eve of his death he warned that they would be hated, they would be persecuted, they would be cast out of their own synagogues, and they would be slain. And they would suffer these things for the witness they would bear.

Because we possess a more prolific and personal set of writings from Paul, we can learn through his experiences a little of what all must have endured. Paul’s insights and writings were spawned by experience. He could write, then, of the miracle of Christ’s grace because he had personally experienced it. He had set himself upon a course of crushing the seeds of Christianity, and afterward bore a keen awareness that only the direct intervention of the Lord had prevented his pursuit of that disastrous course. The weight of that indebtedness was one reason he accepted so readily his appointed missions to unknown lands and people, everywhere preaching and writing of the salvation which comes through Christ.

But the strengths of Paul’s writings come from other influences as well. As the book of Acts and most of his letters indicate, in his labors he experienced stonings, scourgings, mockings, illness, and accusations. He faced death many times, and his escapes were narrow. His traveling for the Word was constant. He was shipwrecked. He knew loneliness. Like Christ, he was deserted by friends. He was accused, chained, imprisoned with imprisonments as long as two years. He was tried again and again, finally condemned, and at last martyred.

Out of all these experiences, came his letters. He wrote when he suffered “trouble, as an evil doer, even unto bonds” (2 Tim. 2:9); nevertheless he could rise up and say, “But I determined this with myself, that I would not come again to you in heaviness” (2 Cor. 2:1). And he wrote, “We were pressed out of measure, above strength, insomuch that we despaired even of life.” (2 Cor. 1:8.) And finally he wrote, “For I am now ready to be offered, and the time of my departure is at hand.” (2 Tim. 4:6.)

While in prison, he pleaded for his scriptures: “The cloke that I left … when thou comest, bring with thee, and the books, but especially the parchments.” (2 Tim. 4:13.)

He loved the scriptures, and in his loving, wrote scripture: “And … from a child thou hast known the holy scriptures, which are able to make thee wise unto salvation through faith which is in Christ Jesus.

“All scripture is given by inspiration of God, and is profitable for doctrine, for reproof, for correction, for instruction in righteousness:

“That the man of God may be perfect.” (2 Tim. 3:15-17.)

As Paul spoke of the writings he so greatly loved, so in time have his writings come to be greatly loved, as are the writings of all his companions who bore witness through the pen of their faith in Jesus Christ. Though we know more of Paul’s trials, he surely spoke for all who used the pen to spread the gospel when he said, “For out of much affliction and anguish of heart I wrote unto you with many tears.” (2 Cor. 2:4.)

The book of Revelation, written by John, was also written in sorrow—from the lonely circumstance of exile: “I John, who also am your brother, and companion in tribulation … was in the isle that is called Patmos.” (Rev. 1:9.) But perhaps even more powerful than the physical separation and loneliness John felt as he wrote was the spiritual isolation he suffered. We can sense it as we read his words, for John did not write in a time of success, but of gloom. The young, struggling gospel kingdom was beset upon from all sides. The Saints were hunted, persecuted, slain. But more distressingly, the Church was being ravished from within by false teachings. Undoubtedly the loneliness and sorrows John felt as he beheld the struggles of the beleaguered Church contributed strongly to the passion in his words as he wrote what he saw. Then, trying to communicate the scenes viewed in revelation, John wrote of the trials and glories of the earth’s future in powerful and starkly beautiful terms.

Although the Revelation is placed at the end of our collection of New Testament scriptures, it was not the last book written. The last written, however, was by John, the distinction of finality for that dispensation going to his epistles. 8

As the testaments of those ancient prophets who bore witness of Christ’s eventual coming had ceased, eventually to be compiled into a book, so the testaments of those who knew Christ in the flesh also ceased, to be later compiled into a scriptural record. Another dispensation had ended. For a time the heavens were shut up, to await another day when the love of God for his needy children would again fling them open.

End of Part 3. To be continued.

Gospel topics: Bible, scriptures [illustration] St. Matthew, by Guido Reni [illustration] Church Receiving Letters, by Arthur Becher

By Lenet H. Read

Gifts of Sacrifice and Love

Early Christian Usage of the Scriptures

Lenet H. Read, “How the Bible Came to Be: Part 4, The Canon Becomes an Unread Relic,” Ensign, Apr. 1982, 43
It should be obvious that all the writings which now make up the New Testament did not jump from men’s pens into leather-bound books. As with the Old Testament, the process was slow and piecemeal. Each part was written separately, and those who were fortunate enough to privately possess any scriptures probably, like Paul, would have had separate parchments or scrolls.

Precisely what was accepted as authoritative scriptures by the early Christians A.D. is uncertain. Just as the early Christians A.D. accepted as authoritative far more Hebrew records than appear in our current Old Testament, so these church members drew upon a body of Christian literature far more extensive than that contained in our current New Testament. 1 The processes by which these manuscripts were sifted, with only some receiving recognition as “canon,” occurred at a much later date. 2

Furthermore, the scriptures they did have were made good use of. Just as the Christians inherited their scriptures from the Jews, so also did they inherit their methods of study and learning from the Jews. As in the synagogue, so in the early Christian meetings was the reading of scriptures a primary part of learning and of worship. In both places, the scriptures held a chief place of honor. To hear them read was a major purpose for attending services. 3 The fact that many members were not literate and could not read them for themselves, and the fact that copies of the scriptures were not readily available to all the members, contributed to this need for central reading. 4

By the end of the second century A.D., most Christians accepted a list of certain books as authoritative, called them the New Testament, and read them in services along with the Septuagint (the Old Testament translated into Greek). Furthermore, they began to appear in codex form (book-like collections of manuscript sheets) rather than on papyrus rolls. 5

But study and reading also went on in private, where possible. In fact, scripture reading was a central part of a devoted Christian’s life. The literate read to the illiterate in the privacy of their homes. Sometimes slaves read to illiterate masters. And some members attributed their conversions to the gospel to such scripture readings. 6

There is also little doubt that as time passed, the scriptures themselves produced incentive for illiterate Christians to become literate. Indeed, as in Jewish families, scripture study was the basis of a family’s education, with study begun when children were yet small. From the earliest time, scripture study had been encouraged by church leaders. Irenaeus (ca. A.D. 120 to 220) wrote, “Let a man take refuge in the Church. Let him be educated in her bosom and be nourished from the Holy Scriptures. … Eat ye from every Scripture of the Lord.” 7

The scriptures were memorized as well. Eusebius spoke of a blind man who “possessed whole books of the Holy Scriptures not on tables of stone, … nor on skins of beasts or on papyrus … but … in his heart, so that, as from a rich literary treasure, he could, ever as he wished, repeat now passages from the Law and the Prophets, now from the historical books, now from the Gospels and the Apostolic epistles.” 8

Just as Christians from the outset had recognized that the scriptures were germane to the spiritual well-being of the Church, so also did their enemies. As opponents saw the rapid-fire spread of this new religion, they realized that its books were a key to its destruction. Therefore, as they persecuted and slew the leaders, they also sought to destroy their scriptures. 9

Thus, intermittent waves of persecution, with their accompanying destruction of books, continued through the third century after Christ. 10

During this time, many scriptures were sought out for destruction, particularly the community caches in the churches. For protection, the churches appointed certain individuals as custodians of their scriptural treasures. Betrayal of this responsibility was regarded as a serious transgression, with excommunication its result. While there were those who were unfaithful to their charge and under pressure betrayed their trust, so were there the faithful. Some caches of the scriptures were even buried during periods of danger, so that they might be preserved. 11

But those eternal forces which seek to thwart the Lord’s work, when hedged up in one way, always seek other avenues of destruction. Thus, while at least some of the scriptures survived the onslaughts of persecution and burning, they suffered at the hands of another threat—a change in interpretation.

It is generally conceded that Christ, his Apostles, and the earliest Christian fathers interpreted the Old Testament as continual prophecy of the coming and mission of the Messiah. 12 One scholar admits, begrudgingly, that “the writings of early church fathers … differ little from that of New Testament authors, in that the Old Testament was regarded as a prediction of the New Testament and Christ as the fulfillment of Old Testament prophecy.” 13 This writer goes on to explain that the early church fathers saw the Old Testament as “Christian literature,” as “parabolic throughout,” truly understood only by Christians because “everything in the Old Testament was a prototype of Christ.” 14 Among the writers who used this method of interpretation were Clement of Rome (A.D. 100), Justin Martyr (ca. A.D. 155), and Irenaeus (ca. A.D. 200). 15

Nevertheless, as time passed there were changes in the methods of interpretation. One individual who exerted a great influence in changing the interpretation of scripture was the Christian scholar Origen (A.D. 185-254). While Christ and his Apostles had opened the eyes of the Christians to the concept that Old Testament events were “types” or foreshadowings of Him, they never placed in question the basic realities of these events. But Origen, heavily influenced by Greek thought, came to feel that many Old Testament events were totally figurative, that there was no reality behind them. Moreover, he vastly broadened the scope of symbolic interpretation. Rather than seeing Old Testament events as types which taught specifically of Christ, he falsely saw them as more generalized “allegories” with a wide-ranging potential for interpretation. Tragically, this made it easy to read almost anything one wished into the scriptures. 16

Furthermore, he, like many during his time, rejected the anthropomorphisms in the Bible, asserting that any belief that Moses really saw God must “fall into the absurdity of asserting that God is corporeal.” 17 He interpreted scriptural references to immortality as meaning a “spiritual continuity” rather than a “resurrection of the physical body.” 18

However, in addition to these strong and misdirected changes in methods of interpretation, Origen exerted some sound influences upon scriptural studies. He saw a necessity to seek for truly accurate original texts. Beginning a work which took him more than twenty years, called the Hexapla because of its six parts, he made comparisons of the Hebrew, Septuagint, and other Old Testament translations. However, after his death, careless scribes did not include many symbols which kept his procedure clear, and the undertaking, mammoth as it was, in the long run caused as much confusion as clarification. 19

It is fundamental to know that Origen’s broadened method of interpretation and his research are generally praised by most scholars of today. They see his new interpretations as having a “lasting, liberating influence” upon biblical studies. 20 Sadly, these scholars have often tended to ignore the basic realities of the events. Thus, Origen’s attempt to locate original sources was a step forward in scriptural studies, but in general his work produced a great step backward. The change of interpretation had the unfortunate result of encouraging a wide-ranging allegorical interpretation that eventually was used to discourage lay Bible reading. Consequently, in Origen’s time grew the erroneous idea that only the learned could understand the scriptures. And eventually, because “allegory” came to be the major way to interpret the scriptures, church leaders felt that only they could understand them. 21 We will discover later how tragic was the movement in this direction.

By the fourth century A.D., many changes had occurred. On the one hand, outward appearances might indicate that the scriptures had triumphed. Under the influence of Constantine, the religious traditions of so-called Christianity and its holy scriptures seemed to prosper. In A.D. 332, the emperor Constantine ordered fifty sets of scripture made on vellum (animal skin), asking that they be “easy to read and conveniently portable” and stated as their purpose: “for the instruction of the church.” 22

But there are also clues that these open displays of success were deceiving, and that many things were amiss. For one thing, education in general had declined in the third century, and Bible study had dwindled because church members found it boring. It wasn’t that collections of scriptural writings weren’t being made or sold; in fact, merchandising of scripture increased, and they even became popular sellers. But the purposes of possession had changed. The wealthy sought very fine and elegant copies—not to be read, but for display. In fact, some church leaders found it necessary to reprove the rich for not reading their expensive copies and to remind them that in comparison many of the poor showed more faithfulness by sharing and reading the few scriptures they’d been able to copy for themselves by hand. 23

But in addition, for growing numbers of Christians the biblical records began to take on an aura of abnormal sanctity, becoming an object of superstition and even being used as a magic charm. The “lazy-minded found it easier to revere its pages than to try to understand them.” 24

The political upheavals of the fifth century, such as the invasions by the Goths and Vandals, also apparently contributed to declining scriptural usage. One fifth-century theologian in Antioch commented on the situation in his time: “Of other scriptures, most men know nothing. But the Psalms are repeated … by those who know them by heart, and feel the soothing power of their divine melodies.” 25

For most persons, the Psalms alone became the scriptures.

It was by the fourth century that what precisely was “official scripture” was finally decided. Athanasius (A.D. 293-373), the bishop of Alexandria, publicly listed as authoritative scripture the same twenty-seven books we have in our present New Testament. Some books whose authority scholars like Origen had questioned were included on this list—among them the books of James, Hebrews, 2 Peter, and 2 and 3 John. Other books that had been held dear by some early Christians were not on the list, including the Epistle of Barnabas, the Didache, 1 Clement, the Apocalypse of Peter, and the Shepherd of Hermas. 26

The list which Athanasius drew up was also accepted as canonical (though not without debate), by the majority of those church leaders present at the councils of Laodicea (A.D. 363), Hippo (A.D. 393), and Carthage (A.D. 397). The latter council, after much disagreement on certain books, did ratify as New Testament canon these same twenty-seven books and decreed that none besides these should be read in the churches as divine scripture. 27

It should be pointed out that the questions of canonicity taken up in these councils (in particular the councils at Hippo and Carthage) pertained to Old Testament scriptures as well as New. Some scriptures of the Old Testament period which were not in the Hebrew Bible but were in the Greek Septuagint were accepted as canon by these councils, although there had also been prior disagreements about their respective worth. These became the Apocrypha, which were reaffirmed by Catholicism at the Council of Trent in 1546 and are still today a part of the Catholic scriptural body. 28

But in addition to these writings which were passed on as the Apocrypha, there were others that were not passed on. In particular, apocalyptic or prophetic writings were those most often cast aside—such works as the book of Enoch, for example. Dr. Hugh Nibley points out the irony that these writings, which had been rejected as canon by Pharisaic Judaism but accepted as precious by the first Christians, were in time also rejected by later Christians. 29

Jerome and the Vulgate

Obviously, any message that is to be taken to the whole world must go forth in the languages of the world. As we recall, the first set of scriptures taken abroad was the Greek Septuagint, and when the New Testament scriptures began to multiply, for the most part they were also in the Greek language. But at length the need arose to take the scriptures into Latin-speaking areas, such as northern Africa; therefore, Latin translations were made. However, these translations were not closely controlled, and before long, church leaders became concerned about the many corruptions and variances in the separate texts.

To meet this problem, Pope Damasus in A.D. 384 commissioned his secretary, Jerome, a very able scholar in Greek and Latin, to produce an acceptable version.

Jerome was extremely reluctant to undertake such a task, correctly anticipating that such a work would stir up bitter opposition. But because it was the pope who asked, he also hesitated to say no. In a response to this request, he expressed his inner turmoil:

“You have urged me to make a new work out of an old, and to sit in judgment, as it were, on the copies of the scriptures which are now scattered throughout the whole world; and, inasmuch as they differ from one another, you would have me decide which of them agree with the Greek original. This is a labor of piety, but at the same time one of dangerous presumption; for in judging others, I will myself be judged by all; and how dare I change the language of the world’s old age and carry it back to the days of its childhood? Who is there, whether learned or unlearned, who, when he takes up the volume in his hands and discovers that what he reads therein does not agree with what he is accustomed to, will not break out at once in a loud voice and call me a sacrilegious forger, for daring to add something to the ancient books, to make changes and corrections in them?

“On the other hand, there are two considerations which console me: in the first place, the order comes from you, who are the supreme pontiff; secondly, even those who speak against us have to admit that divergent readings cannot [all] be right. For if we are to pin our faith to the Latin copies, our opponents must tell us which; for there are almost as many forms of texts as there are copies. If, on the other hand, we are to search out the truth by a comparison of many, why not go back to the original Greek and correct the mistakes introduced either by inaccurate translators or by the blundering emendations of self-confident but ignorant critics, or the additions and changes made by copyists who were only half-awake?” 30

And so Jerome accepted the challenge. His initial work was on the Psalms and the New Testament. As he himself said in his work, he “restrained his pen,” correcting only passages that seemed to change the meaning from their original intent and leaving the rest as they were.

The opposition that Jerome expected did arise, and indeed pursued him most of his life. Unfortunately his protector, the pope, died the year the project began, but Jerome continued the work anyway.

After his work on the New Testament was completed (a labor of five years), Jerome journeyed to Bethlehem with the intent of revising the Old Testament as well. He settled and lived there the rest of his life. One of his purposes in going to Bethlehem was to learn as much about Hebrew as he possibly could to aid him in his translation. Because of the great antipathy between Jew and Christian at that time, there was resentment from both sides toward this purpose. There were elements among the Jews who felt that any assistance toward a Christian (and gentile) Bible was traitorous, and there were already some restrictions against Jews teaching Christians. Consequently, one of those who taught him Hebrew dared not be seen with him by day and visited him only in the dark of night. 31

With the help of such Jews, Jerome continued to perfect his Hebrew and to learn Aramaic and study Jewish traditions and scriptural interpretations—all those things which he felt might be helpful in producing the most correct Latin versions of the Old Testament. His work on the Old Testament was completed by A.D. 405. It was a forceful translation which relied upon his understanding of the meaning or sense of the original rather than upon the literal word-by-word translation.

From the Christian side, he was attacked very fiercely by those who felt he betrayed Christianity by seeking knowledge from the Jews and by going to the Hebrew Old Testament text for help rather than relying solely on the Greek Septuagint, which they considered of higher spiritual value. But Jerome argued (by letter and book) that Christianity’s ignorance of Hebrew was an impediment to their understanding, bred prejudice, and was even dangerous as far as establishing correct theology. His advocacy of Hebrew studies to other Christians, however, was very unsuccessful. He wrote of the fierceness of the attacks against himself, “I beg you to confront with the shields of your prayers the mad dogs who bark and rage against me and go about the city and in this think themselves learned if they disparage others.” 32

Jerome saw the value of his work in these terms, making reference to the ancient Israelite wilderness tabernacle which was made both with fine and expensive materials as well as with common ones:

“I beg you, my reader, not to suppose that my labors are in any sense intended to disparage the ancient translators. For in the service of the tabernacle of God each one offers what he can: some gold and silver and precious stones, others linen and blue and scarlet; we shall do well if we offer skins and goat’s hair. And yet the Apostle [Paul] pronounces our more contemptible parts the more necessary. Accordingly, the beauty of the whole tabernacle and of its various parts … was covered with skins and goats’ hair cloths, and so the heat of the sun and the injurious rain were warded off by those things which were of less account.” 33

So Jerome felt that although his contribution to scriptural accuracy was inferior to the contributions of others, yet it was a necessary and helpful step as well.

By the end of his life, the opposition toward Jerome’s work had abated somewhat. But it was a century or more before his Latin Old and New Testaments really replaced the Old Latin versions, and for many centuries thereafter there were those strong minority voices who continually raised opposition to its origins.

Nevertheless, Jerome’s Bible in time supplanted all others, though there are those who contend that in its final victorious form his translation had become substantially corrupted by others. But pronounced authentic at the Council of Trent, the Vulgate, as Jerome’s Latin Bible was known, became the Bible of the Western world for a thousand years. One writer believes that it was the pillar which preserved Europe’s spiritual and intellectual heritage against attacking waves of northern barbarism. He further points to it as the “source from which the Church has drawn the largest part of its ecclesiastical vocabulary. Terms now so familiar as to arouse no curiosity as to their origin, [such as] scripture, spirit, penance, sacrament, communion, salvation, propitiation, elements, grace, glory, conversion, discipline, sanctification, congregation, election, eternity, justification, all come from Jerome’s Bible. It is an imperishable record of that commanding genius that could so manipulate and mould the majestic but inflexible language of Rome as to make it a fit and pliant instrument for the expression … of thought, of sentiments and images.” 34

But while the influence of Jerome’s work would become longlasting, during the time of its supposed glory its influence was actually quite weak—because, for the most part, it was not read.

Through the centuries that followed the translation of the Vulgate, many different forces contributed to a waning influence of the scriptures in the average Christian’s life. While the reading of the scriptures had originally been a very central part of the earliest Christian services, scripture reading was replaced with ceremony. While private scripture study was energetically encouraged by the earliest Christian priesthood, in time it was actually discouraged. “The Bible was subordinated to the church itself as custodian of the truth.” 35 Substituted for the scriptures were legends about saints, and the church began to argue that since the true meaning of the scriptures was to be found in allegory, the scriptures were really too obscure for common members to comprehend. So the masses were to be kept from the “deep and obscure: and fed instead the simple and open, defined as the lives and deeds of the saints, the passions and triumphs of the martyrs, and other teaching concerning vices and virtues, … and the miseries of the damned.” 36 Obviously, there was little scriptural content in such teachings.

Furthermore, the language of the Bible—Latin—and the ever-changing languages of the people became divergent; nor was there much effort to make copies of the Bible available to the people themselves. In a sense, the uniting of the Old and the New Testaments contributed to the Bible’s lack of availability. Before, certain portions might be obtained as separate parchments or scrolls. But the full latin Bible, copied by hand by monks in monasteries, could not be contained even in one volume. In spite of using a writing style that ran all the letters together and included some shorthand (for example: “THBEGINNINGOTH GOSPEL OJESUSXTHESONOGOD”), the space required for handwriting and the greater thickness of vellum increased the bulk of these copies of the Bible to two and sometimes four volumes. Such copies were rare, expensive, and very cumbersome. Because there was little motivation to produce Bibles for the masses, those made were elaborate, with covers and cover pages beautifully ornamented and gilded, and with painstaking embellishments in the copy. The effect of such labor was to make the scriptures “treasures of art” but not of knowledge.

In a sense, then, the Bible became a holy relic. It was not meant to be read or studied, for even monks came to regard its contents as “sacrosanct but ill-understood lore, a venerable mystery.” 37 Its contents were no longer penetrated by eager minds, nor memorized, nor treasured by softened hearts. In general, it became an unopened enigma, only to be kissed and shallowly, superstitiously revered.

End of Part 4. To be continued.

Gospel topics: Bible, scriptures

[illustrations] Illustrated by Robert Barrett

By Lenet H. Read

Gifts of Sacrifice and Love

Lenet H. Read, “How the Bible Came to Be: Part 5, Glimmers of Light in Darkness,” Ensign, June 1982, 38
It is interesting that the darkness of the Middle Ages lasted about as long as the Millennium’s light will last—a thousand years. The Middle Ages began in the mid-fifth century A.D. with the fall of the Western Empire and lasted until the mid-fifteenth century, when several momentous events, including the Renaissance, the Reformation, and the invention of the printing press, brought these darker ages to an end and prepared the way for the Restoration.

Though the Middle Ages are noted more for retrogression than for progress, there were exceptions. Among the exceptions was a continuation of the spread of the Christian religion to distant lands, including Britain, which came to play a significant part in future struggles to make the scriptures available in the language of common men.

There is evidence that Christianity had reached England’s shores in the second century, 1 but events, such as invasions by the Teutons, had stifled its flames. In the sixth century, however, St. Augustine, first Archbishop of Canterbury, and others were sent to Britain to preach. Behind them came other missionaries. Bede’s Ecclesiastical History reports that Theodore of Tarsus, who was well read in the scriptures, came as a missionary about A.D. 700. He and his companion gathered the people and poured forth “rivers of knowledge to water the hearts of their hearers,” 2 teaching them both scriptural and secular knowledge. One of the most important of their efforts was to teach any who were willing to read the scriptures. But the scriptures they used were in Latin, and usually those who chose to learn were those who became a part of the English clergy.

Through succeeding years, the majority of Britons were nurtured on Bible stories and principles of discipline and conduct. There was no real study of the scriptures. Worship, as elsewhere, was effected through ceremony, and in Latin. To remind the people of the Bible’s stories, biblical scenes were painted on church walls and carved into panels. Later, elaborate religious plays were devised. 3

Because reading the scriptures in Christian worship services had long been discontinued, the lack of education on the part of the masses and the very limited availability of scriptures were enormous obstacles to significant scriptural understanding. There were, however, a few good shepherds who had sincere desires to feed the sheep with food they could truly digest.

One of the first steps toward translating the scriptures into a language the people could understand was made by a simple herdsman named Caedmon. According to Bede, Caedmon had a special gift for composing Anglo-Saxon verse based on the scriptures. His gift was so unusual that he was taken into a monastery where he learned scriptures and then turned them into verse, making “his masters in their turn his hearers.” Before the lowly and the powerful he sang the record of the Jews—about “the creation of the world, the origin of man, and all the history of Genesis.” He sang the history of the children of Israel and the life and mission of the Lord. 4 The value of his work was that he provided a people’s Bible that they could easily memorize and sing themselves.

Another who took the Christian religion to the common people in their own tongue was Aldhelm, Abbot of Malmesbury. During and after mass, which was in Latin and therefore undiscernible to the people, he would stand upon a bridge and, disguised as a wandering minstrel, sing songs which contained much scripture. 5

During the seventh, eighth, and ninth centuries, there were several written translations into Anglo-Saxon of parts of the scriptures, usually the Psalms and the Gospels. But the common people generally had little access to these translations, although some of the clergy did continue to encourage more scriptural knowledge in the laity. The great scholar and clergyman Bede (A.D. 673-735) himself took some steps in this direction. In a letter to Bishop Egbert he wrote, “But make the unlearned … learn [some scriptural passages] in their own language, and carefully repeat them; and this should be done, not only in the case of laymen … but also in the case of monks and clerks, who know Latin.” 6

In spite of such efforts, continual political upheavals prevented literacy in the scriptures from gaining much ground. When Alfred became king in 871 following a period of great upheaval, he lamented that although there had been some kinds of progress, there had also been great setbacks:

“I remembered also how I saw, before it had all been ravaged and burnt, how the churches throughout the whole of England stood filled with treasures and books, and there was also a great multitude of God’s servants, but they had very little knowledge of the books, for they could not understand anything of them, because they were not written in their own language.” 7

Alfred was himself an educated man, unusual in those days for kings. Obviously he was much dismayed at the waste of books that could not be read because of destruction and ignorance. And so he set out to make changes. He himself translated and commissioned the translation of many books, including portions of the scriptures. And in establishing the laws which would govern his people, he began with a translated version of the Ten Commandments, to which he added the golden rule.

Limited as it was, Alfred’s use of the scriptures and his desire to educate his people resulted in a remarkable flowering of civilization. One historian observes:

“At the middle of the seventh century there was nothing to suggest the imminence of a great English achievement in learning and literature. The strongest of English kings was an obdurate heathen [probably Penda, c. 632-654]. The country was distracted by wars, which destroyed the peace of scholars. … The Christian faith, which was to carry imagination into new worlds, was only secure in the extreme south-east of the island. Within a hundred years England had become the home of a Christian culture which influenced the whole development of letters and learning in western Europe. … There is nothing in European history closely parallel to this sudden development of a civilization by one of the most primitive people established within the ancient Roman empire.” 8

After King Alfred’s death, there were a few additional steps toward making scriptures more usable. “Interlinear glosses,” literal translations into Anglo-Saxon written between the lines of the Latin Bibles, were made—but these were quite rare. A greater step was taken toward the end of the tenth century when Aelfric, the Archbishop of Canterbury, translated several Old Testament books into Anglo-Saxon. A little light had glimmered in the darkness.

And then the Normans conquered England. French became the language of the ruling classes, and though parts of the Bible were translated into French for use by some of the Norman rulers, little was done to make the scriptures available to the Anglo-Saxons. Further attempts to translate the Bible into the language of the common man had to wait another three hundred years.

The spread of Christianity to lands such as England proved in time to be one of the greatest challenges to the Roman church. The Greek church had continued its belief that knowledge was essential to salvation; therefore, when peoples of other cultures were converted, translations were made into their language—such as Russian and Bulgarian. The Roman church, on the other hand, did not encourage vernacular translations, even though the Latin Vulgate had itself been a translation into a language spoken by the people—before time and changing language had turned it into a “sacred language” used only in church services.

In fact, during the time of Pope Gregory VII (A.D. 1073-85) a policy against translations took shape. In a struggle with the Greek church for influence in certain disputed territories, Gregory saw that it was to the Roman church’s political advantage to promote reliance upon Latin in these areas. He also determined that it would be advantageous to create a sharper distinction between laity and clergy. The clergy thus became the teachers of the church, while the laity became receivers only. “From [Pope Gregory’s] time onwards,” asserts one scholar, “orthodox prejudice against lay knowledge of the Biblical text hardened.” 9

Consequently, the stage was set for one of the greatest dramas in the history of man—the struggle over vernacular translations between a few courageous individuals and the Inquisition that swept Europe during the last centuries of the Middle Ages. In the earliest battles, the weight of advantage went definitely to the Inquisition.

Sometime during the 1170s in southern France, one of the first skirmishes of this battle was enacted. According to one account, it began this way:

“A certain rich man of the city [Lyons], called Waldo, was curious when he heard the gospel read [in Latin] since he was not much lettered, to know what was said. Wherefore he made a pact with certain priests, the one that he should translate to him the Bible: the other, that he should write as the first dictated. Which they did; and in like manner many books of the Bible … which when the said citizen had often read and learned by heart, he … sold all his goods, and despising the world, he gave all his money to the poor, and usurped the apostolic office by preaching the gospel, and those things which he had learned by heart.” 10

Waldo’s “preaching” among the people consisted mostly of reciting passages from the scriptures in the common tongue. Evidently he did not set out with the intent to oppose the church, but merely to enlighten the people. An eyewitness at the Lateran Council of 1179 wrote of Waldo’s initial attempts to get church approval for his activities—and of the church’s negative reaction:

“We saw the Waldensians [supporters of Waldo] at the council celebrated at Rome under pope Alexander III. They were simple and illiterate men … and they presented to the lord pope a book written in the French tongue, in which were contained a text and gloss on the psalter, and on very many other books of both testaments. These besought with great urgency that authority to preach should be confirmed to them, for they thought themselves expert, when they were scarcely learned at all.” 11

The writer then voices feelings which became entrenched as argument against giving scriptures to the common man:

“In every small point of the sacred page, so many meanings fly on the wings of virtue, such stores of wealth are accumulated, that only he can fully exhaust them whom God has inspired. Shall not therefore the Word given to the unlearned be as pearls before swine, when we know them to be fitted neither to receive it, nor to give out what they have received? Away with this idea, and let it be rooted out. The ointment ran down from the head, even to the skirts of his clothing: waters flow from the spring, not from the mud of public ways.” 12

But the Waldensians were not easily dissuaded from seeking scriptural knowledge. Like their peers, they were not “lettered,” nor had they access to many copies of scripture, but they overcame this obstacle by memorizing surprising lengths of scripture when they were given the opportunity.

The Waldensians suffered because of their desire for knowledge. They were tried by the Inquisition, excommunicated, imprisoned, and burned as heretics. Their books were banned—and when found, burned. At their trials and in the tracts written against them, their great “crime” as stated was that they “translated the New and Old Testament into the vulgar tongue and this they teach and learn. For I have heard and seen a certain unlettered countryman who used to recite Job word for word, and many others who knew the whole New Testament perfectly.” 13

“All men and women, cease not to teach and learn, night and day. The workman, who toils by day, learns or teaches at night. … They teach and learn without books … and even in leper-houses. … To those who excuse themselves, saying that they cannot learn, they say; ‘learn only one word a day, and in a year’s time you will learn three hundred, and thus you will grow proficient.’ ” 14

In spite of attempts to stifle it, the Waldensian movement, and others similar to it, spread into neighboring Italy and Spain. And upon their heels followed official pronouncements against their work—banning the preaching, reading, memorizing, or even possessing of scriptures. 15 Penalties for disobedience were extremely severe. According to one inquisitor general’s record in an area near Toulouse, France, 930 sentences against heretics were pronounced during a period of fifteen years, and 114 heretics were destroyed by flames. 16

But even as the Inquisition tried to stamp out the Waldensian movement in France, Italy, and Spain, the hunger for scripture cropped up elsewhere, this time in England and Germany. The movement in England began in the mid-1300s. Unlike the Waldensian movement, which was begun by those totally outside the church’s power structure (though some clergy later joined it), the English movement was spearheaded by one of the most prominent and respected scholars and clergymen of his age—John Wycliffe.

Wycliffe is described as being frail in physical stature, but intellectually and spiritually he was a giant. He was the most prominant scholar at the most prestigious school of his day, Oxford, but his scholarship was unique for that time because it included a thorough knowledge and appreciation of the scriptures, earning for him a special title, “the evangelical doctor.” While his colleagues viewed the Bible as a “treasure-house of dead dogma,” 17 Wycliffe grew to love it and drew his strength from it—and in later controversy, pled to be judged by its standards.

It was partly the social conditions of England in Wycliffe’s day which aroused him. For there was much amiss. The priests who were closest to the people were themselves ignorant, but the clergymen who had education lived in luxury and were insensitive to the wretched state in which the peasants lived. Often, those supposedly called to be exemplars of Christ sought and maintained their positions of power through corruption and bribery and were frequently guilty of other vices. There were incessant power struggles between arms of the church and between church and state. 18

Wycliffe was troubled by what he saw, and his “inmost soul was stirred to its depth by the spectacle of social wretchedness which was rife.” 19 But the catalyst which drove him to action was the papal schism of 1378. Because of his study of the Bible, Wycliffe felt confident that his religious convictions were consistent with the principles taught by the prophets and Apostles. He understood that the true standard for the church must be meekness, not worldliness; and when he saw two opposing popes fighting for status and power, he could not withhold his dismay. 20

Disillusioned with the contemporary church and feeling that its actions were inconsistent with the teachings of the Bible, Wycliffe came to the conclusion that the only just guide which the people still had was the Bible. It was “God’s Law,” and he felt that under present conditions men should be held accountable only to it. 21

But the people could not be held accountable for a law they did not know. The goal of his life, then, became taking “Goddis Lawe” to the people in the language they understood, which was English.

Wycliffe drew other men to help him in this work. Many were responsive to his lead because of his scholastic reputation and his high character. He organized them to be preachers and to take the scriptures to the people—not to churches, but to the common people in their streets, in their homes, in their fields, in their shops. There, in friendly conversation, they sought to read the scriptures to the people. They carried sheets of the New Testament which had been translated into Middle English, the language of that day.

The work of keeping the preachers supplied with scriptures was not easy. After being translated from the Latin, each sheet of scripture had to be copied by hand. Explanatory sheets were also handwritten so that the preachers could explain the scriptures while reading them.

The preachers sent out by Wycliffe actually held no official license to preach. Known as Lollards, they were students or clerks who did this work during their vacations. They seemed suddenly to spring up everywhere: “You cannot travel anywhere in England but of every two men you meet one will be a Lollard,” one man wrote. 22

The work of Wycliffe and his Lollards certainly was not unopposed. But Wycliffe had not assumed it would be. In 1379 he published a treatise entitled On the Truth of Holy Scripture in which he admitted that he expected to be silenced eventually through some punitive form of death.

But in that regard he was wrong. He did not suffer death for his actions—usually attributed to his prominent position, his politically powerful friends, and the weakened condition of the papacy. 23 Yet he did suffer. There were attempts to put him on trial, though they failed. He was publicly attacked from the most prestigious pulpits, was the subject of furious controversy in the schools, and finally was removed from his position at Oxford. He was severely isolated from any outwardly respectable role in society.

Deserted by all but the most faithful of his friends and followers, he nevertheless remained steadfastly anchored in his belief that in time truth would prevail. Perhaps, in a way, his forced retirement was a blessing, for it enabled him to complete his greatest work—the translation of the entire Bible into the language of the people.

As we have seen, there were several earlier translations of portions of the Bible; but to Wycliffe goes the honor for the first complete translation from Latin into English. Such a work, particularly in those days, was a tremendous undertaking. It isn’t clear how much of the work Wycliffe actually did himself and how many assistants he had, but there is evidence that he had the assistance of at least two other—Nicholas de Hereford, a Lollard leader, and John Purvey, Wycliffe’s talented secretary. 24

The previous partial translations made in Britain were of little help in their work. According to Purvey, they were in “so olde Englische that unnethe [hardly] can any man rede them.” 25 And so, before Wycliffe and the others began the work of translating from the Latin, they made careful studies of many copies of the Latin searching for the oldest and most reliable. In this, Wycliffe was most fortunate. Although England had taken an early lead in turning portions of the scriptures into its native tongue, it had also been a leader in its devotion to the Latin Bible. One writer shows that the most reliable existing ancient manuscripts of the Latin Vulgate were copied and preserved in England. 26

Wycliffe and his assistants also studied commentaries and writings of biblical scholars so that they could begin on the surest footing. And then they made as near a literal word-for-word translation as possible, even keeping the order of the words the same as they would be in Latin, though the natural English order was different.

There are clues of tragic drama in the text of this translation. The original Old Testament version ends abruptly in the middle of Baruch 3:20 with this note: “Here ends the translation of Nicholas of Hereford.” Evidence suggests that the abrupt cessation of his work was due to his arrest; he and others were tried and excommunicated at Canterbury, and he spent the following five years in prison or on the Continent. 27

In spite of the persecution, the work on the Bible continued and the New Testament was finally completed, followed by the Old. The work appeared in parcels rather than in one volume.

Wycliffe died soon after the completion of the entire work. “Towards the close of the year [1382] the mental strain, under which he had long gone on working with all his indefatigable industry and courage, brought on a stroke of paralysis. Two years later came the end. While celebrating mass in Lutterworth Church he was struck for the second time, and the 31st of December he died.” 28

Perhaps it is well that Wycliffe died so shortly after the translation was done. Because of its strong popularity among the people (and because knowledge of the Bible tended to increase dissatisfaction with the church), the translation soon stirred the fears and hatred of many people. An epitaph written at St. Albans called Wycliffe “the devil’s instrument, church’s enemy, people’s confusion, heretic’s idol, hypocrite’s mirror, schism’s broacher, hatred’s sower, lies’ forger, flatteries’ sink, who, stricken by the horrible judgment of God, breathed forth his soul to the dark mansion of the black devil.” 29 The animosity toward Wycliffe grew to such a state that years later his body was ordered dug up, his bones destroyed by fire, and his ashes cast into the river. 30

With the death of Wycliffe and the distribution of manuscripts of his Bible, the safety of those who had associated with him was greatly jeopardized. They were hunted, excommunicated, imprisoned, tortured, and burned. Yet somehow, during the early years of this persecution, Purvey and Hereford and others were able to complete in 1388 a second version of the translated Bible. Recognizing that the Latin-based form of the first version made it too difficult for the common man to read, they put their second version in a form much more compatible with the English usage of that day. Purvey, who led the project, explains their reasons for seeking to improve the translation:

“First, it is to be known that the best translating out of the Latin into English is to translate after the sentence and not only after the words, so that the sentence be as open, or opener [easy to understand] in English as in Latin, and go not far from the letter; and if the letter may not be followed in the translating, let the sentence ever be whole and open, for the words ought to serve to the intent and sentence, or else the words be superfluous or false.” 31

Purvey was not unmindful of the great responsibilities his group bore in attempting to translate holy scripture. He took this work very seriously:

“A translator hath great need to study well the sense both before and after, and then also he hath need to live a clean life and be full devout in prayers, and have not his wit occupied about worldly things, that the Holy Spirit, author of all wisdom and knowledge and truth, dress him for his work and suffer him not to err. By this manner, with good living and great travail, men can come to true and clear translating, and true understanding of holy writ, seem it ever so hard at the beginning.” 3 2

Like the first version, this second version of Wycliffe’s Bible appeared anonymously, for obvious reasons, though there was probably little doubt on the part of the authorities who was behind it. The people hungrily received it. Purvey had been correct in asserting that “the unlearned cry after Holy Writ to know it, with great cost and peril to their lives.” 33

And people did indeed risk their liberties, their properties, and their lives to have as much as they could of this Bible, even if it were to possess or hear just a few pages. In 1414 a law was established which would cause those who read any scriptures in English to “forfeit land, catel, lif[e], and goods from their heyers [heirs] for ever.” 34 The church was in earnest, and there were many prosecutions. One woman was accused of heresy simply for listening in the secret of the night to her husband read the words of Christ. Others suffered for memorizing the Bible’s passages, regardless of the content. Another woman was tried for teaching someone else “the Epistle of James, the first chapter of Luke, and the Sermon on the Mount.” She was strictly instructed to teach the Bible no more, especially to her children. 35 Many men and women who were convicted were burned at the stake, often with their Bibles hung around their necks.

The principals of the movement were spared death but suffered imprisonment, evidently experiencing such horrors while in prison that they finally recanted, Purvey being the last to do so in 1401. It was recognized, however, even by the authorities, that his recantation was not sincere, and he was kept thereafter under close surveillance. As much as he dared, he continued to defend the need for English Bibles.

In spite of burnings, recantations, and severe penalties, the people’s hunger for the word of God was too great to squelch. The Wycliffe Bibles continued to circulate surreptitiously, and a surprising number of manuscripts (over 150) have been preserved even to modern times. There is evidence that one method used to preserve them from harm was to disguise them: in some of these manuscripts, the date of writing was deliberately changed (manuscripts written before certain laws were passed were not subject to those laws); others were falsely ascribed to other translators. 36

The manuscripts, even detached sheets, were so valuable to the common man that they elicited sums which would surprise modern readers. It is reported that a whole load of hay (imagine the labor involved in those days in raising and harvesting a load of hay) was given in exchange for just a few chapters of St. James or St. Paul. One historian, writing in 1956, figured the cost for an entire Wycliffe Bible as equal to $150.00 in his day. 37

Records show that trials for those accused of reading Wycliffe’s Bible continued throughout the 1400s. Even as late as 1496 there is record of five Lollards being burned at Paul’s Cross, “with the books of their lore hanging around them, which books were at the time of the sermon there burnt.” 38

But as there is tragedy, so there is irony in this story. Because many of the Wycliffe Bibles were written without any indication whatsoever that they originated from Wycliffe and the Lollards, these sometimes came into the possession of influential orthodox members of the church. Although the official church position was that Wycliffe’s work itself was of the devil, no action was taken against these individuals for possessing it. In fact, it is claimed by some that when the first Elizabeth assumed the throne in 1558, The work of Truth publicly presented to her at that time was actually the hated Wycliffe Bible, still officially banned. 39

The church obviously felt justified in what seems to us a very unjust discrimination. The roots of this discrimination rest in several factors. First, there continued the belief that most of the Bible was allegorical and that the common man could not comprehend it without an interpreter. As one fifteenth century scholar said, “It is dangerous to put knives into children’s hands for them to cut bread with themselves, for they may cut themselves. So also holy scripture, which contains the bread of God.” 40

Part of this discrimination also was due to a poor opinion of the commoner. Pope Gregory VII had written:

“It is clear to those who reflect upon it, that not without reason has it pleased Almighty God that holy scriptures should be a secret in certain places, lest, if it were plainly apparent to all men, perchance it would be little esteemed and be subject to disrespect; or it might be falsely understood by those of mediocre learning, and lead to error.” 41

As another writer put it, “It was one thing for a King to have the Bible in French, or for English nuns to read the Psalms in English under the direction of their confessor; but it was quite another thing when ‘the very cooks who sod the pottage made good their claim to read the Bible in Wycliffe’s English.’ ” 42

The church claimed the right to interpret the scriptures to the masses. But, having generally abandoned the scriptures as a basis of the faith, the church did not fulfill that duty. All church service was in ceremonial Latin, which few of the parish priests themselves understood. Nor did they understand any better their Latin Bibles. 43 Consequently, the clergy could not feed the sheep, for they had no knowledge with which to feed them.

There were some exceptions, however, in Germany. In the thirteenth century the Waldensian movement had significant influence there; and in the following centuries, in spite of conflicts over translating the scriptures into native tongues, there was support for vernacular translations among some German clergy.

Generally this support came from groups such as the Friends of God who endeavored to educate interested laity. Such work naturally led to a desire to make some scripture knowledge available to them. But because these clergymen desired that many books of edification be translated, not just the Bible—and then only the “understandable” parts of the Bible—their translations did not become the lightning rod for controversy that the English translations became. Furthermore, at Cologne in 1398, a group of university scholars was called upon, because of the Inquisition, to give their opinions on vernacular translations. They concluded that translations could not logically be forbidden. Citing the number of languages into which the scriptures already existed—Latin, Hebrew, Chaldean, Gothic, Egyptian, etc.—they argued “what then is the reason that holy scripture may be read in the tongues of so many nations, yet not in the German language?” 44

In 1430 another language was added to that list: a Spanish translation was made, though not for the common people. And in 1466 there finally emerged a German Bible, probably a composite of previously translated portions. Its preface included the following words:

“This is a foreword against him, who is opposed to the German writing, which is, nevertheless, useful and profitable for men’s souls, My enemies have up till now done violence to their own conscience, because they have till now been silent as regards my plan to translate the holy gospel into German. Now however they have taken a different stand, inspired by foolish pride, and they bring forward foolish counsels, and say: ‘But what shall we now preach, when men read and listen to the holy scriptures in the German tongue in their rooms and houses?’

“Him will I answer from holy scripture. … Woe to you who call good evil, and evil good: … and fight against the righteous truth: that is, they fight against the holy scriptures and hinder the spread of their revealing.” 45

Although in Germany there were some orthodox leanings toward translations, the largest concentration of power was strongly opposed to it, especially as a book for common usage. There were those in Germany who suffered death for possessing Bibles, particularly the Beghards, who were considered heretical. After 1509 there is evidence that a few orthodox groups in Germany did allow limited study of parts of the translated Bible by members of the laity. But they were the exception. The many, everywhere, were denied. 46

The weight of advantage in this great struggle may have remained in favor of those who opposed translation for centuries more, but in the fifteenth century came a remarkable event which shifted the advantage to the people—the invention of the printing press.

Still, the struggle for vernacular translations was nowhere over yet. Many individuals would still give their lives for its cause. But light had come out of darkness, and with it the hunger for more light.

And light is the essence of all good beginnings, as Wycliffe had revealed to the people through his quaint English Bible:

In the first made God of nought heaven and earth. 47
The earth, forsooth, was vain within and void,
And darknessis weren upon the face of the see.
And the spirit of God was born upon the waters.
And God said, Be made light
And made is light.
And God saw light that it was good. 48

End of Part 5. To be continued.

Gospel topics: Bible, scriptures

By Lenet H. Read

Gifts of Sacrifice and Love

Lenet H. Read, “How the Bible Came to Be: Part 6, No Price Too Great,” Ensign, July 1982, 43
By the 1500s the darkness of the Middle Ages was drawing to a close. New discoveries were illuminating every field of learning, and a spirit of new life permeated society. It was the time of the Renaissance. Two events of that time would have an especially telling influence on the years ahead. The first was Johann Gutenberg’s invention of the printing press sometime during the 1430s.

Gutenberg’s invention required an enormous sacrifice from him, demanding vast amounts of time and his personal indebtedness. He died without realizing much return on his investment; but, like so many other major sacrifices, the result would be a blessing to others, not the least of which would be making the Bible more readily available. Indeed, when he realized he had mastered the technique of printing, he sensed his first responsibility was to print the Bible, and a printed Latin Bible was the first major work to come from this remarkable new invention. The development of printing and the work on the Bible together absorbed over twenty years of Gutenberg’s life. 1

The second event to influence the dissemination of the Bible was the fall of Constantinople to the Turks in 1453. This caused a major reorientation of the scholastic centers of Europe, attracting to the Roman church and its areas of influence new pioneers of thought and study from the East. There arose a great movement to return to the very origins of knowledge; and among those works whose foundations were sought was the Bible. 2

Such developments, joined with the courage of men willing to sacrifice for a righteous cause, were the forces which at last paved the way toward putting the holy scriptures into the hands of the common people.

Among those who gave impetus to the movement for a people’s Bible was a Dutchman best known by his Greek name: Erasmus. In the early 1500s, with a newly obtained knowledge of Greek, Erasmus spent several years teaching at Cambridge as a professor of Greek and Divinity. His Greek studies had spurred in him a desire to produce a New Testament as close to its original Greek form as possible, and from it a better Latin version. Both were revolutionary undertakings in that day; for Jerome’s work, although once bitterly attacked, was now considered sacrosanct and untouchable. 3

But Erasmus argued that corruption through the years had crept into the Vulgate. “How is it that Jerome, Augustine, and Ambrose all cite a text which differs from the Vulgate? … Will you, treating all this with contempt, follow a version corrupted by some copyist? … In doing so you follow in the steps of those vulgar divines who are accustomed to attribute ecclesiastical authority to whatever in anyway creeps into general use. …” 4

While Erasmus worked on his Greek New Testament, a Spanish Cardinal, Ximines, labored over one containing Hebrew, Greek, and Latin translations. The Cardinal would actually complete his work before Erasmus, but because of opposition from the Inquisition, Erasmus’s work was first to be published. 5 Both had the benefit of the new printing techniques, and both would affect later translations of the Bible.

While Erasmus and Ximines experienced bitter opposition, there is no evidence that their lives were seriously endangered. Both were loyal to the authority of the church, seeking reforms from within it rather than outside it. 6 Furthermore, the translations both made were in languages in which the scriptures already existed, and were accomplished solely for scholarly purposes.

Yet Erasmus’s work led him to value the right of the people to use the scriptures. “I totally disagree,” he wrote, “with those who are unwilling that the sacred scriptures, translated into the vulgar tongue, should be read by private individuals, as if Christ had taught such subtle doctrines that they can with difficulty be understood by a very few theologians, or as if the strength of the Christian religion lay in men’s ignorance of it. …

“I wish that even the weakest woman should read the Gospel. … And I wish these were translated into all languages, so that they might be read and understood. … I long that the husbandman should sing portions of them to himself as he follows the plough, and that the weaver should hum them to the tune of his shuttle.” 7

Although Erasmus had uttered the longing cry, it remained for another, William Tyndale, to fulfill that longing.

It is generally agreed that William Tyndale was born in the early 1490s, around the same time as the discovery of America. At the age of twelve or thirteen, Tyndale went to Oxford, then to Cambridge for additional schooling. Although he arrived in Cambridge after Erasmus had left, he undoubtedly fell under the lingering influence of Erasmus’s teachings and writings. 8 Even so, the great influence on Tyndale was of a more primal origin. “William Tyndale was … [learned] especially in the knowledge of the Scriptures, whereunto his mind was singularly addicted, [and he] read privily to certain students and fellows … instructing them in their knowledge and truth.” 9

Fresh from his university education, Tyndale accepted a position in Sodbury as chaplain or tutor to the prominent Walsh family. It was a comfortable position which permitted him time for study. But his discontent grew as he perceived a great ignorance on scriptural matters among many of the clergy as well as the laity, and he found it difficult to keep his peace. Eventually, his continued disputations with others because they lacked knowledge of what the scriptures said brought him before local ecclesiastical authority, where he was harshly scolded for his views. 10

No one knows precisely when Tyndale decided on his life’s course, but at one point, during an encounter with a learned gentleman, Tyndale was provoked to exclaim that if God would spare his life, before many years the boy who guided the plough would know more scriptures than those who were supposedly learned. 11

And so Tyndale embarked on a mission to open the scriptures to the people. Like so many before him he nurtured a hope that his work could be done with the church’s blessing. This was difficult, however, because there were powerful laws against vernacular translations unless previously approved by a bishop. Since Erasmus had written highly of Tunstal, bishop of London, as one who supported the new learning, Tyndale hoped to obtain a position with Tunstal and his support for the work. To help pave the way, Tyndale took with him a letter of introduction and samples of his translative skills. Tunstal’s disappointing and abrupt reply was that he had no room in his house for him, that he should seek employment elsewhere. 12

Still, Tyndale’s trip to London was not without success. While waiting for his interview with Tunstal, he preached a few times at a local church. There he impressed a wealthy merchant named Monmouth who befriended him, and, after Tyndale’s rejection by Tunstal, made a place for him in his household. Tyndale remained there for six months, quietly working, obtaining information and making useful acquaintances among Monmouth’s business associates, who brought back news from the Continent about Luther’s work there and of the printing capabilities in Germany. Fortified by these reports and supported by his new friends, in the spring of 1524 Tyndale sailed for Germany. He would never return.

Tyndale’s life abroad has been difficult to trace because he felt it necessary at times to travel and live under assumed names, but it is now believed he traveled first to Wittenberg, where Luther resided, possibly because Luther had already made a vernacular translation of the New Testament into German. 13 The spread of Lutheranism in Europe had moved the Roman church to constant watchfulness and strong action, and so Tyndale found it wise to work in secret, and several times to quietly disappear for safety’s sake. Indeed, after a year in Wittenberg, growing danger forced him to move to Hamburg. 14

We know little of the difficulties Tyndale faced in preparing his manuscript for printing, but we would be mistaken if we assumed it had come easily. Luther, relating the struggles in making his translation, observed: “Sometimes for three and four weeks we have sought and asked for a single word and sometimes we have not found it even then. In working at the book of Job, [my associates] and I could sometimes scarcely finish three lines in four days.” 15 Tyndale, working alone, surely did not find translating any easier. For obvious reasons, the printing had to be done in secret.

However difficult the work had been, by August 1525 Tyndale was in Cologne, a city well known for its printing presses, with a nearly completed manuscript. Unfortunately, the printers were not always circumspect. One commented to a friend that a certain work they were printing would make all of England Lutheran. The remark was noted by a man with strong Roman sentiments who, through trickery, obtained from the printers a description of the work. This information was relayed to authorities in Cologne and England, and the Cologne authorities immediately prevented further printing of the book. 16

Tyndale again fled, taking the printed sheets with him. His destination this time was Worms, where Lutheran sympathies were much stronger and the printing safer. Knowing that the English authorities had been forewarned and thus expected his work, Tyndale tried to outmaneuver them by printing two editions, neither of which would bear his name nor the correct names and places of the printing houses.

The first edition off the presses was a translation of the New Testament in English. It carried a simple, unsigned postscript begging the readers to come to the scriptures with pure minds and with eyes single to the truth, that they might harvest spiritual blessings. Tyndale further pleaded that they not be overly critical of defects, for it was his first attempt at translating the sacred books. Not yet totally satisfied with his rendering, he vowed that if God would permit, he would in the future perfect this initial offering. “Count it as a thing not having his full shape, but as it were born before his time, even as a thing begun rather than finished.” 17

Once the printing was completed, the help of the merchants Tyndale had met in England became particularly valuable. English authorities were on the alert, and strict instructions had been given to prevent Tyndale’s New Testament from entering England. But the testaments entered anyway—six thousand copies of them, hidden under bales of innocent-appearing imported goods. There were many eager hands waiting to receive them. 18

Having failed in keeping the books from being printed and from entering England, the church took strong measures to at least prevent them from being read. To demonstrate their opposition, church authorities built a bonfire where they publicly burned any books they found. Tunstal and others, including Sir Thomas More, publicly attacked the accuracy of the translation itself, claiming it contained thousands of errors. 19 Tunstal also ordered that anyone coming into possession of these New Testaments must relinquish them for burning or face excommunication. The authorities felt their actions justified, insisting that “No burnt offering could be better pleasing to God.” 20

Tyndale later commented that “in burning the New Testament, they did none other thing than I looked for; no more shall they do if they burn me also, if it be God’s will it shall so be.” 21 Out of an estimated 18,000 copies printed between 1524 and 1528, fewer than a handful of copies have survived to modern times. 22 And yet, ironically, the burning actually helped provide resources for more printing. The story is told that Tunstal decided the policy of burning books would be more effective if the books could be confiscated before they reached England. While on a visit to Antwerp, he approached a merchant named Packington and expressed his desires to obtain and burn New Testaments because of their errors and evil influence. He offered Packington considerable money to buy all he could. Packington agreed to the bargain; but, sympathetic to Tyndale, he went immediately to him and described what Tunstal was doing. 23

Tyndale was quite pleased. He saw two advantages in such a bargain: the money paid would get him out of debt and provide the resources to continue his work, and the public burning of scriptures would outrage the public. The bargain was accepted. 24

Much of the money which Tunstal had paid to purchase the Bibles for burning had been raised by him from other clergymen. Thus, he unwittingly became Tyndale’s biggest single source of financial assistance. But the books also sold well on their own, in spite of the warnings and the burnings, in spite of arrests and imprisonments of sellers and buyers. Despite the fact that the cost of a New Testament was as much as a full week’s pay for a skilled laborer, the books were bought, secreted, and read. So good was the market for them, in fact, that enterprising businessmen in Holland printed copies of their own and sought to undersell those from Germany. 25

With the publication of the New Testament, Tyndale next translated the Pentateuch; but on his way to Hamburg to print it, his ship was wrecked. All his manuscripts were lost, all his labor destroyed. Fortunately, Tyndale was joined in Hamburg by Miles Coverdale, who assisted him in retranslating the work and who would in time make many significant contributions to the translation of the Bible. Together they worked, and in January of 1530 the Pentateuch was printed in English, again with its printing source disguised. The Pentateuch too was shipped to England—and there it, too, was sought for burning. 26

It was shortly after the Pentateuch arrived in England that certain individuals tried to persuade the king to bring Tyndale back to England in peace if he would agree to certain conditions. Tyndale was wary of the volatile situation in England but declared he would return if one condition was met—that the king would approve an English Bible of some sort for the people, if not his own. As a part of these negotiations, Tyndale revealed much of what he had suffered for the cause, including “poverty, … exile out of my natural country and bitter absence from my friends, … my hunger, my thirst, my cold, the great danger wherewith I am everywhere encompassed, … and hard and sharp rightings which I endure.” 27 He insisted that death would be more pleasant than life if it were really true that men could not endure truth and that knowledge of the scriptures would bring more harm than good.

When negotiations failed, other attempts were made to bring Tyndale to England, though not so peacefully. Appeals were made to the German emperor to surrender him, and instructions were given to kidnap him. Living like a fugitive, he managed to elude his pursuers. 28

Despite his frequent uproofings Tyndale continued to work and even to rework that which he had already done. Nothing testifies so strongly of his desire to produce a faithful English version of the scriptures as do his efforts to improve his own previous translations. In 1534 there was printed “The Newe Testament dylyggently corrected and compared with the Greke by Willyam Tindale,” and in 1535 “The Newe Testament yet once again corrected by Willyam Tindale” as well as revised editions of the Pentateuch. The corrections he made on the New Testament alone numbered in the thousands. Scholars generally agree that the changes were indeed for the better, lifting the good work he had done into the realms of excellence. 29

But Tyndale’s pen was soon immobilized. In 1535 he lived in Antwerp in a house established by English merchants. There he developed a close friendship with another Englishman, not realizing the friendship to be treacherous. So trusting had Tyndale become that he lent his friend forty shillings—just hours before he was betrayed by him into the hands of the emperor’s soldiers. Tyndale was taken to Vilvorde Castle, just north of Brussels, where he was imprisoned.

He would never be freed from the dungeon there, suffering its isolated darkness and dampness for over sixteen months. While in prison, he wrote a touching letter which provides clues to his condition and state of mind.

“If I am to remain here during the winter, you will request the Procureur to be kind enough to send me from my goods which he has in his possession, a warmer cap, for I suffer extremely from cold in the head, being afflicted with a perpetual catarrh, which is considerably increased in this cell. A warmer coat also, for that which I have is very thin: also a piece of cloth to patch my leggings: my overcoat is worn out. He has a woollen shirt of mine, if he will be kind enough to send it. I have also with him leggings of thicker cloth for putting on above; he also has warmer caps for wearing at night. I wish also his permission to have a lamp in the evening, for it is wearisome to sit alone in the dark. But above all, I entreat and beseech your clemency to be urgent with the Procureur that he may kindly permit me to have my Hebrew Bible, my Hebrew Grammar, and Hebrew Dictionary, that I may spend my time with that study.” 30

Just two events brought Tyndale out of his dark dungeon. One was a bitter trial; another was an attempt to disgrace him by publicly stripping him of his ecclesiastical authority. Throughout his imprisonment he endured intense pressures to recant. Finally, on October 6, 1536, twelve years after he left England, he was led from prison to the stake. There he was strangled, then his body burned. He had time to utter one last cry: “Lord, open the King of England’s eyes.” 31

It is one of the ironies of history that Tyndale died not knowing the battle was nearly won.

In the 1530s, the political climate in England underwent many significant changes. Henry VIII had split with Rome to facilitate his divorce and remarriage, and Anne Boleyn, his new love, favored a translated Bible. Others also had come to see the folly of denying the scriptures to the people—including Sir Thomas More. 32

Working behind the scenes to effect this change in policy were a number of enlightened men. One of these was Tyndale’s assistant, Miles Coverdale. A man of peace, Coverdale established good friendships with men of all persuasions; Tyndale, More, and Cromwell all considered him a friend. In 1530, Coverdale had written Cromwell, patiently reasoning the need for an English scripture. Evidently, he helped influence Cromwell, because he later lent support to Coverdale to accomplish that work. 33

Finally, in 1534, a group of prominent church authorities petitioned the king to allow scriptures in the English language. The king, always in touch with political expediency, responded positively, and a process was begun by which an “official” translation might be obtained. Some of those chosen to work toward that end, however, were actually obstructionists, and the project quietly died.

But while the “official” translation work was grinding to a halt, Coverdale secretly worked on his own version—a project supported by Cromwell. In making his translation, Coverdale used Tyndale’s Pentateuch and New Testament, but improved upon them where he could, using his own natural sense for linguistic harmony and rhythm. The rest of the Old Testament Coverdale translated himself, referring for guidance to several other works, including Luther’s Bible. 34

Coverdale’s accomplishment, the first printed complete English Bible, was published overseas and shipped to England. There were hopes this time for a favorable reception, based on changing opinion and a very flattering dedication to King Henry, who Coverdale compared to Moses and King Josiah in leading the people from darkness to light.

It is believed that Cromwell drew the king’s attention to the new translation. The king, likely weary of ecclesiastical divisions and flattered by the dedication, asked the bishops for their opinions. They offered various criticisms, but Henry demanded, “Are there any heresies maintained thereby?” When they could point out none he exclaimed, “If there be no heresies, then in God’s name let it go abroad among our people.” 35

The English people were at last free to purchase, own, and read a Bible without fear of retribution. Many received the new Bible warmly. But there was still reluctance, even hostility, among a significant number of the clergy. Though they no longer had the power to seize or burn the scriptures, their strong disfavor worked against its universal acceptance.

When Coverdale’s Bible came out, Tyndale was yet alive, in prison. Coverdale was aware of Tyndale’s plight, and though not daring to use his name openly, made vague reference to his situation in the prologue to his Bible. He also revealed the forces that had brought him to finish Tyndale’s work:

“It was neither my labor nor desire to have this work put in my hand: nevertheless it grieved me that other nations should be more plenteously provided for with the Scripture in their mother tongue than we: … when I considered how great pity it was that we should want it so long, and called to my remembrance the adversity of them [Tyndale chiefly] which were not only of ripe knowledge but would also with all their hearts have performed that they began, if they had not impediment.” 36

So Coverdale finished what Tyndale began. Unlike others, who suffered death for their roles, Coverdale’s diplomacy kept him alive, though he was forced into exile at least three times. Nevertheless, he was able to maintain deep respect from diverse parties, and thus wield a strong influence on several succeeding biblical translations. He revised and republished his own version in 1537, but it remained too much Tyndale’s work to be widely accepted by the clergy.

In 1537 another version of the Bible mysteriously appeared. It is believed that after Tyndale’s death, among his effects were found his translations of Joshua to 2 Chronicles. These were left to some of his friends. One of these men, John Rogers, put together a new Bible which consisted of all of Tyndale’s translations, including these last ones, with Coverdale’s translation from Ezra to Malachi. The book was meant to honor Tyndale, now deceased; but it was thought wisest not to prejudice the work with his name, which was still bitterly despised by many. Hence it was published as the translation of “Thomas Matthew,” a false name. 37

Strangely, whether or not it was known how much of this work was Tyndale’s, the authorities granted it license as an approved version (though Tyndale’s first publications were still under condemnation). There were several reasons for the license. It was obvious that the public wanted an English Bible, and the petition of 1534 by church leaders requesting an authorized Bible had not yet been fulfilled. Indeed, because of opposition from certain bishops, Archbishop Cranmer, a moderate with leanings toward an English Bible, decided that to give license to this version would save face for both the crown and clergy, as they could go along with the pretense that it was “new.” So Cranmer wrote a letter to Cromwell, saying of this work, which was almost wholly as Tyndale had written it, “you shall receyve by the bringer herof, a Bible in Englische, both of a new translacion and off a new prynte, dedicated vnto the Kinges Maieste. … So farre as I have redde thereof I like it better than any other translacion hertofore made.” 38

So now two versions of the Bible were available, though only so far as the people’s ignorance and poverty allowed. The books were still not used, read, or taught in churches, where the uneducated might learn and the poor might hear. But finally, even that barrier began to crumble.

As early as 1536, Cromwell had considered a decree that English Bibles be placed in every church; but the time was not ripe. And for many, the Bible translations available were still not right. Conservative clergy particularly objected to pro-Protestant leanings in the notes of the Coverdale and Matthew Bibles. And so Cromwell began to envision a Bible worthy to be placed in churches—free from criticism, done with the very best of scholarship, and with an external beauty worthy of its place. 39

Coverdale was picked for the task. But this time he was given every advantage. France was selected as the place for the work. There they could obtain the best quality of paper and printing. Cromwell saw that Coverdale had all the help he needed in the way of grammars, dictionaries, other scholarly resources, and a personal assistant.

Coverdale’s work was indeed thorough. He used the Matthew Bible as his original source, making corrections wherever he felt best. If he found a translation better than one in his own previous work, he did not hesitate to set aside his own.

After much labor, the translation and printing neared completion. Then, just as it appeared that at last the way to an unhampered printing of the Bible had been won, the work was suddenly confiscated and the printing ordered stopped. Political relations between France and England had deteriorated, and the work was halted by the French inquisitor-general. Through diplomatic channels England finally obtained permission to bring the presses back to England, but without the printed sheets. Coverdale had managed to ship some home prior to the seizure, and some that had been sold as waste paper to a haberdasher were retrieved; but for the most part, the work had to be reprinted.

In 1539, the “Great” Bible was released. It was called “Great” because of its size—but it was splendid in other ways, too. Perhaps its only outward flaw was small hands appearing on the pages pointing at nothing. They were originally intended to signify explanatory notes. But the king, tired of controversy over notes, had forbidden their inclusion.

In 1538, prior to this Bible’s actual publication, Cromwell had issued an injunction that there be kept in every church a Bible for the people, and that the people be freely allowed to read it. Though there is evidence that the Matthew Bible was sometimes used, the decree was in anticipation of the Great; and when it was available, it became the Bible “appointed to the use of the churches.” 40

There are many interesting reports of reactions to this sudden exposure to the Bible. It was now available to people of all classes, and the great controversy had surely aroused immense curiosity about its contents. On the one hand, “it was wonderful to see with what joy this book of God was received not only among the learneder sort and those that were noted for lovers of the reformation, but generally all England over among all the vulgar and common people; and with what greediness God’s word was read and what resort to places where the reading of it was. Everybody that could bought the book or busily read it or got others to read it to them if they could not themselves, and divers more elderly people learned to read on purpose.” 41

The way had been opened, and the people responded. Those with enough money purchased the Great Bible for private use, then often read to crowds who gathered. But its cost of ten to twelve shillings prevented its availability to the majority, except at the churches. There the poorer flocked to marvel that they could see and hear and handle a whole Bible, printed in the English tongue. 42

Nevertheless, there were still dark days ahead. In Henry’s later years he turned against the Protestants. Cromwell was executed. Persecutions resumed. “The crafty, false, and untrue translation of Tyndale” (specifically the Matthews and Coverdale versions) were denounced and again publicly burned. 43 The Great Bible, also mostly Tyndale’s work, was not attacked, but its reading by common people was again forbidden. These events were only the first of very turbulent times during which the opinion toward vernacular translations rose and fell precipitously.

During Edward’s reign, Protestants returned to favor and Bibles again were set up in the churches. Even weekly scripture reading in the churches was encouraged.

Then Mary Tudor came to power. Bitterly anti-Protestant, Mary sentenced readers of the English Bibles to death. Many of those instrumental in bringing about English translations lost their lives, among them Archbishop Cranmer and John Rogers. 44

Coverdale and numbers of other Protestant leaders fled to the Continent, finding safety in Geneva, whence sprang yet another version of the Bible. But this was not just another version. A free intellectual climate had brought to Geneva some of the finest religious scholars in all of Europe. Drawing upon each other’s knowledge and upon original sources not previously available, these scholars helped produce new translations of English, French, and Italian Bibles. In the English, they found the greatest need for revisions in that part of the Old Testament not done by Tyndale.

By the time the Geneva Bible was ready for publication in 1560, Queen Elizabeth had replaced Mary on the throne, and she again allowed free access to English Bibles.

Because of its smaller size, its simplicity, and certain innovations that made it easier to read (namely Roman type rather than Gothic, and the use of verses), the Geneva became the most popular Bible for private use among the people. Indeed, it became the common family Bible for the next 50 years and was the Bible the Pilgrims carried to America. However, because of its Protestant bias in the marginal notes it was never approved by the Church of England, although its high quality of scholarship was grudgingly conceded. The Great Bible remained the Bible of the churches. 45

This awkward situation—one version of the scriptures in the homes but another in the churches—aroused the desire for yet another version. Thus, the plan which had once been suggested, that there be an “official” version done by ecclesiastical authorities of the church, was finally set into motion. Approximately sixteen men, mostly bishops, labored on this new translation. Here at last was hope for a version that would be accurate and non-controversial.

But while the “Bishops’ Bible,” as it was designated, did officially replace the Great Bible in the churches, it could not uproot the Geneva Bible in the hearts of the people. Although it did make improvements in a few areas, in general it was too uneven and too literal. The beauty of Tyndale’s “Cast thy bread upon the waters,” for example, had become “Lay thy bread upon wet faces.”

The work which Tyndale began had through the years been taken up by many men. Each had sought to improve it, and indeed they had; a work so vast and challenging could hardly have been made perfect by one mere man. And yet, the amazing truth is that while Tyndale’s work was eventually refined, it was of high quality from the start. Eighty to ninety percent of the biblical work Tyndale performed remains today in the form in which he set it. 46 For his was the gift of capturing accuracy in a rhythmic-poetic way, thus adding beauty and power to the scriptural message.

While many circumstances combined to make the scriptures accessible to the English people, surely Tyndale’s work, life, and death were among the chief factors. He gave for this cause all that he could give, for he knew in a very personal way the immeasurable worth of the scriptures. And he recognized that for these eternal jewels, no price was too great.

The translation Tyndale made of the Sermon on the Mount may well serve as the only epitaph he needs:

“Blessed are they which huger and thurst for rightewesnes: for they shal be fylled. … Blessed are they which suffre persecucion for rightewesnes sake: for thers is the kingdom of heven. Blessed are ye whe men shall revyle you/and persecute you/and shal falsely saye all manner of evle sayings agaynst you for my sake. Reioyce ad be gladde/for greate is youre rewards in heven. For so persecuted they the prophetts which were before youre dayes.” 47

End of Part 6. To be continued.

Gospel topics: Bible, scriptures

By Lenet H. Read

Gifts of Sacrifice and Love

Lenet H. Read, “How the Bible Came to Be: Part 7, The Sweet and Ripened Fruit,” Ensign, Aug. 1982, 49
The bloodshed in the late 1500s had a decidedly sobering effect on England. The outrageous spectacle of Protestants being martyred under one regime, and Catholics under another, helped prepare the way eventually for greater religious tolerance. Under James, who became king in 1603, a major move in that direction took place.

James faced a nation badly in need of religious unification. The Puritans had grown strong in numbers and also in determination to make their numbers felt, and they petitioned James for reforms.

Though he was not sympathetic to the Puritan cause, James felt it politically wise to hold a conference to consider their grievances, and did so the following year. It is surprising that the most remarkable accomplishment to come out of that three-day conference arose not from the carefully prepared petitions, which were generally rejected, but from one individual’s seemingly extemporaneous suggestion—that there be a new Bible. The suggestion was made by John Reynolds, a leading Puritan and president of Corpus Christi College, who felt the Bible used in the churches was “corrupt and not aunswerable to the truth of the Originall.” 1 Reynolds was not seeking a pro-Protestant version, however; he was seeking a correct Bible that would be satisfactory to all.

The majority of those in attendance were opposed to another translation. One participant remarked that there would never be an end to translations if everyone’s whims were humored. But the person who really counted, King James, was very taken with the idea.

It is true that part of his excitement over a new translation was due to his strong disapproval of the Geneva Bible. He was displeased not because of inaccuracies, but because of what he considered improprieties in its notes. But he also was excited at the idea of heading such a project—for King James liked books, and the Bible most of all. 2

His boyhood tutor had acquainted him with the Bible, and he had discovered for himself its worth. In fact, he considered himself somewhat of a biblical scholar. He had translated a paraphrase of the book of Revelation and some of the Psalms, and in all his communications he made frequent references to the scriptures.

One writer points out that we should feel quite thankful that Reynold’s lonely request fell upon James’s ear. Otherwise, such an idea probably would have died. 3 Indeed, when we consider the differing roads that various kings and queens have pursued to embellish and glorify their names, it is easy for us to conclude that King James undoubtedly was among those who chose most wisely. Not only did James nurture this dream of a new Bible acceptable to all, but he also cared enough about the final product to carefully ensure its excellence.

The excitement King James felt about this project is shown in the rapidity with which he acted. Within one month, he had a detailed plan drawn up outlining how the work would be accomplished. 4 The translators were then chosen with care. Initially there were fifty-four of them, selected with a representative balance in mind—Anglicans and Puritans, high churchmen and low churchmen, clergy and laity, theologians and linguists. 5 James sincerely wanted a book for all people, regardless of religious preference, one to which no one would take offense.

Furthermore, he wanted it to be of highest scholastic quality. Among the men selected was the dean of Westminster, a master of fifteen languages with an unquestioned reputation for accuracy in scholarship. Another had spent thirty years as King’s Professor of Hebrew at Trinity College, Cambridge. Others were skilled in various combinations of Hebrew, Greek, Latin, French, Italian, and Spanish. 6

But the committee possessed more than just linguistic acumen. Among its members were men of high character who exercised good influence on their peers in many ways. One was persistent in persuading fellow clergymen of the need to take the gospel abroad. Four were Puritan clergymen, some of whom had made enormous financial sacrifices for their faith. Another had gained wide-reaching respect for his meekness and charity, even toward his enemies. Still another labored among the Scots, preparing ground necessary for unifying the Church of England and the Church of Scotland. 7 Reynolds himself, who had suggested the work, in the end sacrificed his life for it. For though he became ill, he insisted on giving his utmost to the project, thereby contributing to his own death. 8

Though King James intended to give every support necessary to the translation, he was not wise in money matters and soon encountered an empty treasury. Undaunted, however, he appointed the Archbishop of Canterbury, Richard Bancroft, as a general manager of the project and suggested he raise funds for it from the bishops and clergy. But the appeal evidently fell on deaf ears. Finally, the universities agreed to provide, without charge, food and lodging for the translators while they worked. Some scholars also claim that a publisher promised to pay a sum for the right to print and sell the book. But it is generally felt that most of the translators did their work at considerable sacrifice to themselves and with little financial remuneration. 9

The extent of that sacrifice is captured in an account given by one of the committee members, John Bois, to an associate. Bois indicated that he as a translator was secluded in his work throughout the week until Saturday evening, that he then went home on Sunday to take care of his most urgent clergical duties, and that he returned on Monday morning to resume translation. This kind of schedule he followed for four years. 10

Although the committees had been appointed in 1604, formal work did not begin until 1607 because of the fund-raising delays. While fifty-four men supposedly were appointed, only forty-seven actually worked on the Bible, and several of them died before its completion. These forty-seven were divided into groups of six. Two of the groups worked at Oxford, two at Cambridge, and two at Westminster. Each group was assigned a different section of the scriptures to translate.

The instructions they received through Bancroft were very strict. This work was to be a revision only, not a fresh translation, and the work they were to revise was the Bishops’ Bible. They were granted permission, however, to refer to Tyndale’s, Coverdale’s, and the Geneva versions; and where any of those agreed more closely with the Hebrew and Greek texts that were available, they could use them instead. 11

There is strong evidence that the scholars worked much more independently than these instructions indicate. For example, according to their own accounts, they consulted every translation or scholarly work currently available, including versions of the Bible in Spanish, French, Italian; the Vulgate and other Latin versions; Luther’s and other German versions; as well as the best Aramaic, Hebrew, and Greek manuscripts then existing. 12 They even consulted the Rheims-Douai Version, which had recently been translated by Roman Catholic scholars in a defensive move against the Protestant translations. Because the Douai Version was still so heavily laden with Latin terminology, it did not have much effect on the King James, but the King James Version came to have much effect on later Douai versions. 13

Thus, every source that might possibly give an insight into the best translation was eagerly sought. In fact, the translators sent appeals to all bishops to notify those who were skilled in ancient tongues, and who had information or observations that might be helpful to the translators, to forward that information to the appropriate college. And when there was difficulty over any obscure passage, the translators did not hesitate to make contact with outside specialists who might be able to shed some light upon its meaning. 14

The process by which the translators obtained not just a coherent but an excellent translation in spite of its being a many-handed work was apparently quite unusual for the times. Each man began by working separately on his assigned chapters. Then the committee met for review. There is some uncertainty as to how this final correlation process was actually carried out, but John Seldon, who knew some of the translators, was quoted in 1689 as saying:

“The translators in king James’s time took an excellent way. That part of the Bible was given him who was most excellent in such a tongue … and then they met together, and one read the translation, the rest holding in their hands some Bible, either of the learned tongues, or French, Spanish, Italian, etc. If they found any fault they spoke; if not, he read on.” 15

While some have questions about the full accuracy of this summary, 16 the fact that the King James Version is so beautifully lyrical—so pleasing to the ear—lends credence to this oral method of correlation.

In the March 1974 Ensign, Margaret Tuttle Sanchez illustrated the process with which one committee probably dealt with the problem of translating the Psalms. In her imaginative portrayal, one of the scholars begins by reading the Scripture as existing in the Bishops’ Bible.

“ ‘God is my shepherd. …’ ‘Wait!’ There is a chorus of exclamation. … All present agree that ‘shepherd’ is the correct meaning. But to begin by saying ‘God’ is too abrupt. The rhythm is awkward. There is no melody to the line. Moreover, the Hebrew word is Jehovah that here and elsewhere Coverdale has translated as the LORD, using capital letters. And besides, the Book of Common Prayer and the Geneva Bible both agree that there is a superior wording: ‘The Lord is my shepherd.’

“The reader continues: ‘Therefore I can lack nothing.’ This is better than the inversion in the Prayer Book, ‘Therefore can I lack nothing,’ but it does not equal the simplicity and power of the Geneva version, ‘I shall not want.’ This is it, a line with dignity and beauty of movement: ‘The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want.’

“Again, the Bishops’ version is read: ‘He will cause me to repose my self in pasture full of grass.’ The Prayer Book (Great Bible) version states, instead, ‘He shall feed me in a green pasture.’ But why the future tense? Coverdale originally used the present tense, ‘He feedeth me.’ The Geneva text agrees on this point and contributes a valuable alternative: ‘He maketh me to rest in green pasture.’ ‘He maketh me’—how effectively the rhythm is enhanced by the alliteration. ‘To what?’ ‘Repose myself’ and ‘rest’ both suggest the same thing. But how else could it be said if the Lord were a shepherd and I were a sheep?

“ ‘He maketh me to lie down’—here the committee has had inspiration. The words are not in any of the English texts before them, but they agree to adopt them. ‘He maketh me to lie down in green pasture.’ ‘Why not green pastures?’ a new voice asks. Perhaps one of the group has glanced at an English paraphrase … [by] Gilby published in 1580. …

“ ‘Green pastures’ suddenly sounds universal. Coupled with the use of the present tense, the line takes on immediacy and significance for each follower of the Good Shepherd. It is accepted.

“ ‘And he will lead me unto calm waters.’ The future tense has already been vetoed. Geneva, Coverdale, and Gilby all say, ‘And leadeth me.’ Someone makes an astute observation: there is more balance and dignity if the ‘he’ of the Bishops’ Version is retained but all the ‘ands’ are dropped. ‘He leadeth me’—it is a good beginning. There is a choice of prepositions: ‘to’? ‘unto’? ‘by’? ‘forth’? ‘beside’? ‘Beside’ is chosen. Shall it be ‘calm waters,’ ‘the pleasant rivers of waters,’ ‘a fresh waters,’ ‘the waters of comfort’? The Geneva Version triumphs again with the quiet beauty and appropriateness of ‘the still waters.’ ‘Green pastures’ and ‘still waters’ now balance perfectly.

“ ‘He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters.’

“The line surpasses those of all earlier texts; it bears the stamp of excellence so characteristic of the King James Version.” 17

Because records are available of the other translations the committee used, we can tell from which of these the King James Version ultimately drew. What is important here is that although the translators were seeking accuracy, they were seeking far more than just that. To have sought accuracy alone would have been much easier, but they were also seeking that which would be spiritually satisfying. They recognized that the true purpose of scripture is to move—to motivate. Ideas placed in their best frame are far more stimulating. They are more memorable. Because the committee members were often willing to expend the energies necessary to find the best word, the most pleasing phrase, they were able to conserve “all that was gracious and dignified and beautiful from the cherished versions of the past,” 18 and to blend them with inspiration into a glorious new whole. The result of that toil, that love, is a Bible that has had immense impact on every generation since its publication.

Actually, accuracy and beauty of phrasing were not left to just one committee. As one of the translators explained, “Neither did we disdain to revise that which we had done, and to bring back to the anvil that which we had [already] hammered.” 19 Although there is some question as to whether it was fully carried out, the original plan was that each group’s work be reviewed by every other group. If this plan was followed, the manuscript went through at least six or more revisions before it was actually published. We know for certain that there was at least one review—this by a committee of twelve, two from each of the six major groups, who met after the other committees had disbanded, at least for nine more months and perhaps longer, reviewing and revising the work as a whole. 20 The original plan had also called for final review and approval by the bishops, the Privy Council, and King James. In view of James’s strong personal interest in the results, it would be surprising if at least some of these steps were not taken.

And so, in 1611, King James’s Bible was completed. It is said he felt more pride in seeing this work accomplished than in a recent military victory over Spain. And he had every right to feel proud. The Bible was handsome—both inside and out. Of special satisfaction to him, no doubt, was its flattering dedication. But it was impressive for many other reasons as well, particularly for its beautiful new illustrations. In addition, it boasted a table of contents, various other tables of information, an almanac, a genealogical chart, and a map of Canaan. Each chapter had an introductory summation of contents and briefer summations at the top of each column. The chapters and verses were numbered. 21 While these kinds of features are common in our Bibles of today, in earlier times they were remarkably new.

One thing the Bible did not contain was controversial notes. James had been emphatic about this. The only notes allowed were those which explained Hebrew and Greek words or which gave alternative translations or referred the reader from one scriptural passage to another. “The text ought to speak for itself” was the policy adhered to. 22

One feature which the original version possessed but which has been left out of subsequent editions was a lengthy preface titled “The Translators to the Readers.” Believed to have been written by Dr. Miles Smith, but obviously approved by all, it reveals much insight into the hearts of the men who translated the Bible for us. Still mindful of the great struggles that had been waged in behalf of the Bible prior to this time, and of the still lingering negative opinions toward this new translation, the spokesman for the translators referred sadly to their “zeal to promote the common good” which “deserveth certainly much respect and esteem, but yet findeth cold entertainment in the world.” 23

The translators insisted that their only object was to make out of several good translations one final one that was better. And they reaffirmed once more the great need for translation itself, stating that such work “openeth the window, to let in the light; … breaketh the shell, that we may eat the kernel; … removeth the cover of the well, that we may come by the water; even as Jacob rolled away the stone from the mouth of the well.” 24

Not only had the stone been rolled away, but every effort had been made to ensure that the water which came forth was in its purest, most refreshing form. In the King James Version, that water was a river, its fountainhead truth, but fed by many streams and tributaries.

From the pens of the Hebrew prophets and Greek translators who had given physical shape to that truth, there had come homely but highly effective imagery—truth wrapped in images of wells and wildernesses; of shepherds and sheep; of sowing, cultivating, and harvesting; of oil and lamps, arks and threshing floors. The Hebrews had influenced the rhythmic poetry of the books, providing parallelism to its structures, giving it balance and contrast.

From the New Testament writers, who were influenced by Greek, there had come a more flexible sentence structure and Greek customs and names. Even the English form of the name Jesus Christ was inherited from the Greek.

From the Latin influence had come melody and deeply imbedded Latin terminology such as justification, sanctification, dispensation.

From the Anglo-Saxon had come brevity in the form of one-syllable words. Over eighty percent of the Sermon on the Mount consists of one-syllable words, attesting to their Saxon origin. 25

Of this inheritance from strong multiple sources one writer has observed of the Bible, “It must suffice here to point out that the perennial glory of the King James Bible is that it succeeded so wonderfully in combining these diversified elements—some from Hebrew, some from Greek, some from Latin, some from Anglo-Saxon—and in fusing them into a unified and harmonious kind of speech.” 26

As the Bible’s original shape came from several different cultures, so its final English form was the handiwork of many men. One writer explains that “the development of the English text was … a gradual unfolding. Each translation entered into the making of the one that came after it and was incorporated with it, thus transmitting its own influence down the whole line of descent.” 27

The English translation had begun with Wycliffe, and his influence remains upon it. The Geneva Bible translators had used the Wycliffe translation and so had passed on some of his work. Also, his precedent of simple structure and plainness of speech was a route which was consistently followed.

Tyndale, however, exercised the greatest influence. The entire line of Bibles which followed him were basically revisions of his first work. While it had been refined again and again by other hands, the work remained basically Tyndale’s.

Coverdale had been the laborer behind the Great Bible and other versions. To him is attributed the Bible’s final smoothness, an even-flowing tempo, and a special sweetness, contributions consistent with Coverdale’s own basically gentle nature.

The Geneva Bible also had much influence. Because its writers had so diligently sought the Bible’s pristine intent, searching newly discovered manuscripts previously unavailable to Tyndale, it added clarity in areas which had been obscure. It also added a vitality which had been part of the original; because of its fidelity to original tongues, its renderings often were highly poetic. 28

The high-church origins of the Bishops’ Bible are seen in the elegance and high propriety found in some verses of the scriptures. And it helped tone down some renderings of the Geneva that were felt to be too sharp. 29

Finally, there is the touch of those forty-seven translators who produced the King James Bible. Charles Butterworth describes the impact of their sensitive and polished work:

“Compared with its predecessors, the King James version shows a superb faculty of selection and combination, a sure instinct for betterment. … No doubt, the men of the six revising companies were aided by the era wherein they worked; it was an age in which there was a lively appreciation of literary skill. …

“[But] much was also required of the King James workmen to know what they should preserve untouched in such a rich inheritance.” 30

Perhaps the most precious gift bequeathed by every translator who labored on the Bible—from Wycliffe to the forty-seven—was their earnest care for it, an unselfish love void of personal ambition and personal pride. Precisely how true this is may be best illustrated by the following outline of sources from one section of the Sermon on the Mount. (See Matt. 6:28-33.) It should be realized, however, that in many cases, a phrase attributed to one source may be distinctly different from Tyndale’s version only by the change of one or two words.

Tyndale: Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow;

King James: They toil not,

Coverdale: neither do they spin:

Great: And yet I say unto you,

Geneva: That even Solomon in all his glory

Coverdale: was not arrayed like one of these,

Great: Wherefore, if God so clothe the grass of the field,

Rheims Douai: Which today is,

Geneva: and tomorrow is cast into the oven,

King James: shall he not much more clothe you,

Tyndale: O ye of little faith? Therefore take no thought, saying,

Wycliffe: What shall we eat? or, What shall we drink?

Coverdale: or, Wherewithal shall we be clothed?

Bishops’: (For after all these things do the Gentiles seek:)

Tyndale: for your heavenly Father knoweth that ye have need of all these things.

Geneva: But seek ye first the Kingdom of God,

Wycliffe: and his righteousness;

Bishops’: and all these things shall be added unto you. 31

Out of a full understanding of its history, and in deep appreciation of its artistry, readers have called the King James Version of the Bible a “miracle,” a “masterpiece,” a “literary wonder of the world.” 32

But while it was destined for greatness, when it first appeared, it received cold welcome—even vicious attacks. Some with axes to grind called it theologically incorrect, even blasphemous. 33 And many of the common people, their ears prejudiced to the Geneva, were uncomfortable with its unfamiliar sounds.

But, in time, with greater acquaintance, came greater appreciation. King James’s Bible crept its way into the hearts of its readers and won the admiration of individuals of numerous religious faiths. It would become the chief religious influence in the lives of many men for centuries.

Nevertheless, there have been additional efforts to revise it. Two revisions of minor consequence were made in the 1600s. In 1769 a revision was made to modernize the spelling. It is this specific revision that is the King James Version of today. 34

In even later times, as other old manuscripts have been discovered, as more is learned about ancient tongues, and as language usage has changed, there have come more versions of the Bible. Among the first of the major versions were the Revised Version (1881, 1885), the American Standard Version (1901), and the Revised Standard Version (1946). However, the original manuscripts which have most heavily influenced these translations are manuscripts which lack material found in other ancient copies. The result, in some revisions, is insufficiently supported substitutions for or deletions of precious original truths. Among the most serious losses are phrases which verify Christ’s divinity. President J. Reuben Clark, Jr., writing in 1956, documented the changes made in some of the earlier revisions and explained why many of the substitutions and deletions in these works are of such concern to Latter-day Saints. 35

This is not to say that the translations President Clark mentions, and the others available to us today, are not helpful in their own ways. Some of the newer versions since President Clark wrote are easier to read and incorporate translations of documents (some dating to the second century A.D.) unavailable to the King James revisers. However, the Church continues to hold to use of the King James Version because of its general soundness in doctrine, its relative accuracy in telling the life and mission of the Savior, and its wide popularity. 36

In fact, the King James Version most likely can never be completely replaced because it is such a vital part of the heritage of English-speaking nations. Its language that has become “part and parcel of our common tongue—bone of its bone and flesh of its flesh.” 37 In one fifty-year period alone, this Bible was the source of more than eleven hundred titles of published books, a credit to its “terse and telling imagery.” 38 And everywhere in our language are its unforgettable phrases: “the apple of his eye” (Deut. 32:10; see Ps. 17:8; Prov. 7:2), “the signs of the times” (Matt. 16:3), “a pearl of great price” (Matt. 13:46), “a labor of love” (1 Thes. 1:3), “straining at a gnat” (Matt. 23:24), “a thorn in the flesh” (2 Cor. 12:7).

The heritage of the King James Bible has been in far more than expressive language, however. One writer says of it:

“It has been in life and death the guide of a billion hearts and minds. It has taught, consoled, enlightened, civilized and disciplined millions who have read little else. It has … astonished the learned, and formed the characters of those who have led.” 39

When the common man first began to desire the Bible during that long period when it was denied him, one of the great arguments against his receiving it was that he would cheapen and debase it. Yet, the reverse has proven true. Man has not debased the Bible. The Bible has lifted man. It has enriched his language and lifted his hopes, his achievements, and his eternal perspective.

Through all the centuries of its being written, compiled, and translated, this collection of sacred records has indeed proved to be a truly sweet and ripened fruit.

Gospel topics: Bible, scriptures

By Lenet H. Read

Gifts of Sacrifice and Love

Lenet H. Read, “How the Bible Came to Be: Part 8, The Power of the Word,” Ensign, Sept. 1982, 64
To produce Bibles in the most influential languages of the sixteenth century and to make them easily accessible to everyone was to unleash a powerful new force upon the earth. Indeed, we have not yet fully grasped the impact this accomplishment has already had upon the world. The first impact was unquestionably upon the Reformation, but its reforming influence has spanned all the intervening centuries and has had a far broader effect than we usually think.

First of all, the Bible has been a primary force behind man’s search in Western civilization to purify his religion—to find the Lord’s true gospel. When we read descriptions of the low levels to which religion once sank, where corruption and ignorance were predominant among leaders of the church, we recognize what great progress has been made since the time of the first printed vernacular Bibles. And that progress must be mainly attributed to scriptural influence—a “light” and a leavening influence upon the heart of every sincere Christian, as far as it is used.

The second great impact the Bible has had is its feeding of the spirit of freedom. Too often the credit is given to political influence. But the desires for civil freedom have been very much intertwined with and seeded by their religious counterpart. Among the first successful settlers of America, for example, were Puritans who were inspired to search for the freedom to live and worship as they felt the Bible directed them. And many who followed them to America were driven by the same desire. We know through revelation that the Lord raised up certain individuals to help create a political framework in this new land where those desires for freedom might be fulfilled. (See D&C 101:80.) It is significant that first among the freedoms established by these men was freedom of religion:

“Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievance.” 1

Not only has the Bible influenced the establishment of freedom, it has been a mighty power on the hearts of leaders that they might respect and preserve those freedoms. George Washington believed that “it is impossible to rightly govern the world without God and the Bible.” 2 Many other leaders in western civilization have similarly turned to the scriptures for guidance in leadership, and many have recognized that not only they but the people themselves must draw their strength from the scriptures if freedom is to be preserved. Woodrow Wilson once said of the Bible, “I ask every man and woman in this audience that from this day on they will realize that part of the destiny of America lies in their daily perusal of this great book.” 3

As the influence of the scriptures continues to spread to all lands, so there is hope that someday full liberty will be seen in all the earth, for all its inhabitants. 4 The Bible inspires its readers to work steadily toward that goal, for ultimately, as it says, it is the truth that makes men free. (See John 8:32.)

A third major impact which the Bible has had is visible in the role it played in the restoration of the fulness of the gospel. We are familiar with the story. A young man named Joseph Smith, severely troubled by the religious confusions of his day, searched the Bible for solutions. He came upon this scripture in James’s epistle: “If any of you lack wisdom, let him ask of God …” (James 1:5.) As the Prophet said, “Never did any passage of scripture come with more power to the heart of man than this did at this time to mine. It seemed to enter with great force into every feeling of my heart. I reflected on it again and again. …

“At length I came to the conclusion that I must either remain in darkness and confusion, or else I must do as James directs, that is, ask of God.” (JS—H 1:12-13.)

This wasn’t just an ordinary event in which a troubled boy turned to the scriptures for help. It was a momentous occurrence planned and prepared for before the earth’s creation. There was to be a restoration of the fulness of the gospel to prepare for the second coming of the Savior, and Joseph Smith, who had been foreordained for this purpose, would be the instrument of that restoration. 5 The Bible—now in his own language and at his fingertips—was a catalyst which led Joseph Smith to his prophetic role.

While the Bible served as a catalyst leading Joseph Smith to the Father and Son and the burden of his own mission, so it was a continual influence in helping him fulfill that mission. (JS—H 1:74.) Shortly after the organization of the Church, the Prophet was directed to begin a translation of the King James Version. This he did under the influence of the Spirit, clarifying many passages in the King James Bible. However, the significance of his work goes far beyond those vital and important clarifications. As Joseph Smith struggled and searched for the meaning of passages, he was troubled by many questions and was moved to seek the Lord for answers. The result was revelation after revelation of truths once contained in scriptural records but lost over the centuries of darkness. Many of these revelations are now found in the Doctrine and Covenants and the Pearl of Great Price.

Joseph Smith was only the first in these last days to be led to the fulness of the gospel via the Bible. From the earliest days of the Church until the present, many seekers of biblical knowledge have experienced deep dissatisfaction with discrepancies between its teachings and entrenched Christian beliefs. Echoes of “other” truths in the testaments have made them restless—and their restlessness has made them search—and further searching has led them to discovery. Thus, the Bible has been a powerful tool in the gathering of Israel.

A fourth major impact of the Bible is the effect it has had on the moral character of its readers. John Richard Greene long ago wrote of the changes that it first brought to England:

“No greater moral change ever passed over a nation than passed over England during the years which parted the middle of [Elizabeth’s reign] and the meeting of the Long Parliament. England became the people of a book, and that book was the Bible. … Far greater than its effect on literature or social phrase was the effect of the Bible on the people at large. … The whole temper of the nation felt the change. A new conception of life and of man superseded the old. A new moral and religious impulse spread through every class.” 6

And that force continues today. The power and influence of that message which teaches God’s creation of earth and man, of the preparations which preceded the coming of God’s Son, of an Eternal love so great that this Son would take up man’s burden of sin and lay down his life in exchange, of Christ’s teachings of love and meekness—these are the truths which are slowly spreading into the darkest corners of the earth. And wherever those truths are accepted and practiced, there is change for the better and the ground is prepared for the reception of the fulness of the gospel.

Perhaps the best evidence of the power and influence of the biblical message lies in the witness of how bitterly it has been denounced—even in modern days. Adolph Hitler saw it as a threat to his ambitions and, among his own people, revised the New Testament and sought to destroy the Old. 7 In private he said, “Whether it is the Old Testament or the New, or simply the sayings of Jesus, it is all the same old Jewish swindle.” 8 During his time in power, in some occupied lands, churches and their Bibles were burned. Nevertheless, the Bible remained a fountainhead of strength for those Hitler could not break. One bishop from an occupied land who had been imprisoned for non-cooperation said in retrospect of that period:

“The Bible was the weapon of our souls. It was with us in suffering, it fought for us, and our foes feared it. Why did they hate that very old book? For the same reasons we ourselves loved it. … Because the Bible spoke to us as a voice closer to our trembling hearts than any other voice. … This small book is the charter of peace, the charter of freedom, the charter of the future life of mankind.” 9

The struggle still goes on. In parts of the world today, the Bible is still denied. In schools in certain lands the Bible is officially branded as “unscientific,” a “collection of fantastic legends,” and a “tool of imperialistic, capitalistic powers for subjugating backward, unknowing nations.” 10

But these very attacks are a testimony of its strength and power, and when people who have been denied it again gain access to its strength, the Bible is reembraced with a touching devotion. One man held as a prisoner behind the Iron Curtain said that when at last he was given a requested Bible, “I treated it as one treats a priceless possession, a thing of great value, a rare treasure. … It gave me strength and assurance for what to my knowledge at that time were the interminable years ahead.” 11

In spite of the continual war fought against the Word of God, the work of putting the Bible into every man’s hands and into every language continues.

The goal of the typical Bible society, usually a collaboration of numerous different Christian denominations, has been to take a translated Bible to every people—a work which deserves our praise and gratitude. The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints

does not make translations of the Bible itself at this point, but chooses carefully a translation available in a particular language for use among its members who speak that language.

The translation of the Bible into non-European languages began very early. One of the first translations, a rendition in an American Indian dialect, was completed in 1663. 12 Since then the Bible, or portions of it, have been translated into so many languages that it has been called the “book of a thousand tongues,” though its translations have now far exceeded a thousand. It has been translated into every major language, and the effort in more recent years has been to translate it into even the remotest dialects of the earth—in many cases into dialects where previously there was no written language at all. 13

Obviously, this work is tedious and fraught with many obstacles. It is reported for example, that it took almost a hundred years to produce an entire Bible in the Tibetan language. 14 Though such an interval is rare, “many years” is the common time required for each new translation.

But the sacrifices required are measured in far more than time alone. Translating the Bible into the language of a remote tribe usually requires that someone first take the trouble to live among those people in their primitive conditions—to win their trust, to learn their language, and to convince them that there is a gift of knowledge that will serve them well. Extreme care must attend each translation, for the idioms and customs of isolated peoples are often very different from those of the Hebrews who recorded the scriptures and from those who made the first translations. There must be careful sensitivity to the unique experience of each distinctive culture.

One example of the sensitivity required pertains to the Zanaki people, who live on the eastern shores of Lake Victoria in Tanzania. In translating the Bible there, it was found that only a thief would knock on the door of a Zanaki hut. If the thief then heard a movement within, he would run away. The good man does not knock, but rather calls to his friends inside. Respecting the implications of these customs, Revelation 3:20, which speaks of Christ knocking for entrance into our lives, was wisely rendered in the Zanaki language, “Behold, I stand at the door, and call.” 15

The experiences of Adoniram Judson, a Christian missionary who made the Burmese translation, is typical of the challenges modern-day Bible translators face. He explains:

“When we take up a language spoken by a people on the other side of the earth, whose very thoughts run in channels diverse from ours, and whose modes of expression are consequently all new; when we find the letters and words all totally destitute of the least resemblance to any language we have ever met with, and these words not fairly divided, and distinguished, as in Western writing, by breaks, and points, and capitals, but run together in one continuous line, a sentence or paragraph seeming to the eye but one long word; when, instead of clear characters on paper, we find only obscure scratches on dried palm leaves strung together, and called a book; when we have no dictionary and no interpreter to explain a single word, and must get something of the language before we can avail ourselves of the assistance of a native teacher—that means work.” 16

The work of translation also cost Judson twenty-one months in prison because of the Burmese dislike for Europeans. While he was in prison he became concerned for the manuscript he had been working on. His wife hid it for a time in their house, but as the rainy season approached they feared it would be severely damaged by mold. Therefore they felt that the best place for it after all was with Judson in prison. Mrs. Judson hid it in a roll of hard cotton which was sewed into a pillow. Judson slept on this uncomfortable pillow for months—only to have it stolen from him. The thief later threw the contents of the pillow away, and by some great fortune these contents came into the hands of a Christian convert. Although he did not at first realize that what he had was the manuscript of the Bible translation, he kept it, only much later discovering the value of this treasure. The manuscript survived to obtain its hard-earned place in the Burmese Bible. 17

Any story that deals with the sacrifices made in bringing the Bible to the nations of the world would be incomplete without mention of the many people from all faiths who have labored earnestly to bring better comprehension to its study. There are archaeologists, sifting through sands and ruins for clues that might enlighten us; there are those who have scoured high and low for ever more ancient manuscripts; there are those who refine their knowledge of important original languages; and finally there are those who struggle to decipher newly discovered manuscripts. While some of these students have unfortunately fallen into misunderstandings and thus clouded man’s perceptions, nevertheless many studies have had beneficial effects in broadening our understanding.

We appreciate the dedication of all those searchers who have pursued the Testaments’ purer origins. But the knowledge of the cost of those intense pursuits should work in us an even greater gratitude for those divine gifts which facilitate our understanding of the Bible.

A first gift was the Book of Mormon. Hugh Nibley has written, “Just as the New Testament clarified the long misunderstood message of the Old, so the Book of Mormon is held to reiterate the messages of both Testaments in a way that restores their full meaning.” 18

In addition to illuminating the Bible through the Book of Mormon, the Lord has restored other ancient records that are beginning to fill in gaps in the scriptures. The first such gifts were writings of Enoch, Abraham, and Moses given by divine power to Joseph Smith and which are now found in the Pearl of Great Price.

In more recent years, other ancient manuscripts have come to the general knowledge of mankind, manuscripts which are now restoring to a wider audience those same truths earlier given through the Prophet Joseph Smith. Dr. Nibley quotes Professor Albright as authority that the Dead Sea Scrolls alone have been an invaluable source in the restoration of material lost from the biblical record. Says Professor Albright, “Future translations [of the Bible] will have to expand the text substantially—including … some [passages] of great importance for their content.” 19

Thus we must remember that our scriptural heritage is not only a work of sacrifice by man, but also a great gift of love from the Lord himself. As the record was God’s gift from the beginning, so through earth’s ages he has seen to its preservation, and in his own ways and in his own time has restored that which he knows we are ready to receive.

As long as man continues to dwell outside God’s presence, the search for his word and the meaning of his word must continue. For it is still a major access to him. Thus we Latter-day Saints ourselves in recent years have labored diligently in producing an extraordinary English-language edition of the King James Version containing helps and scriptural references unavailable in any other edition. Roger Coleman of the Cambridge University Press, who helped with the work of printing, said of the Latter-day Saint edition, “Nothing is perfect in the world … but this Bible is as nearly perfect as human beings can manage.” 20

It is indeed a magnificent work. And it too is a product of sacrifice. The dedicated scholars who labored on this project to its fruition gave all that was required—from depths of vision to tedium. Not the least of what they gave was patience, for the work took seven years. But they did not labor alone. They relied upon hundreds of workers, from faculty members to returned missionaries to seminary and institute teachers who were mobilized for challenging, painstaking assistance. One volunteer alone gave as much as 2,000 hours of dedicated service, refusing any compensation. Another did computer work between 2:00 A.M. and 4:00 A.M. to minimize expenses on the project. The result of all these offerings is our opportunity to know, understand, and love the word of the Lord at a newer, higher level. 21

And now in contrast to medieval church leaders who feared the people’s possession of the Bible, access to this edition is encouraged by leaders who yearn that the people not only possess it but study it and understand it.

Conclusion

Throughout this series we have tried to trace those forces which have unitedly worked to channel God’s teachings to his children. In our tracings we have particularly sought to emphasize the love and sacrifice behind those labors. But we have of necessity portrayed as well the counter movements seeking always to inhibit the spread and effectiveness of the Lord’s word. It is still suppressed in much of the world. Where there is free access to it, its voice of influence struggles to be heard over constant bombardments of false ideologies. And while free access to the Bible has indeed caused it to suffer somewhat from abuse and misunderstanding, it has unquestionably suffered most from abandonment. But its messages are abandoned at great peril. For it represents eternal truth—truth passed down from the very Creation, truth added upon and reinforced with experience, truth revealed through word and deed beforehand, truth shaped in unforgettable language, truth personified in Jesus Christ, truth in constant struggle against untruth. And ultimately, it will be truth unconquered and unconquerable. Every gift of love and sacrifice which has been offered to relay that truth to men shall not have been given in vain.