History over the Water: The King James Bible Turns 400 Derek Wilson (bio) The King James Version of the English Bible is 400 years old this year. For a country like Britain that prides itself on being multicultural and secular, the anniversary has been afforded a surprising amount of media attention. Hours of television and radio time have been devoted to it, and the celebrated film director Norman Stone has made a ninety-minute documentary describing its genesis. All this to commemorate the far-from-romantic work of six committees of scholars and senior ecclesiastics spread over seven years from 1604 to 1611. Moreover, the King James Bible was just one episode of a translation process that had been going on for more than a century and has continued to the present day. It was not the last word in faithfulness to the best ancient texts available at the time, and it has been subjected to various revisions throughout its lifetime. Yet until recent times it was firmly established as the English Bible, and there are many users today who will still countenance no other. The reasons for its success do need exploring. For its devotees there is nothing remotely odd about its longevity: the KJV, they will claim, is written in unsurpassably beautiful language, which speaks directly to the soul. It is not just a vehicle for the eternal word of God; it is the word of God. Click for larger view View full resolution Archbishop William Laud, from Thomas Longueville, A Life of Archbishop Laud (London, 1894). Well, pace Marshal McLuhan’s famous dictum, in this instance at least, the medium is not the message. Whatever the historian may believe about the workings of providence in history, he cannot be satisfied with value judgments but is professionally bound to investigate those circumstances on the terrestrial plane that influence major events. This is not always easy for people to understand. As I have delivered talks and lectures on the KJV over the last few months I have sometimes been taken to task for irreverence or, at least, for not making sufficient allowance for the sheer excellence of this particular translation. In response, I have been at pains to point out that the dominance of the KJV can largely be explained in terms of the usual conflicts of interests and socio-political changes that govern all our history. There were, it seems to me, a series historical “accidents” that to a remarkable degree extended the shelf life of the 1611 Bible, making it the authoritative text throughout the English-speaking world. The first was the eradication of the opposition. By the beginning of the 17th century the Geneva Bible had become the translation of choice for most English readers. Shakespeare had read it and heard it read from his schooldays in Stratford-on-Avon onward. At least 1,200 references and allusions to it appear in his plays and poems. By 1604 this version had been in use for a generation or more and had far out-sold its rival, the bland Bishops’ Bible. Its language was vigorous. It was the first to divide the text into chapters and verses for ease of reading and reference. Its various printings included maps, charts, linguistic notes, and, of course, the Calvinistic glosses that rendered it anathema to middle-of-the-road Anglicans. If any version was responsible for making the English “the people of a book and that book . . . the Bible,” as J.H. Green claimed, that version was the one compiled by the Marian exiles in the 1550s.1 If it had continued to be freely printed, we might now be celebrating the anniversaries of the Geneva Bible. The fact that we are not is largely down to one man: Archbishop William Laud. His appointment to Canterbury in 1633 was a deliberate move by Charles I to suppress the Puritan element in the English church. On the scaffold ten years later Laud claimed that he had labored “to keep an uniformity in the external service of God.”2 What this meant in practice was the bolstering of royal absolutism and of episcopal power by enforcing on all congregations the doctrinal and...
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