But that’s not how some other evangelicals saw it. In their eyes the Bible is not marketing collateral to be translated every which way depending on the proclivities of the audience. The backlash from evangelical churches was fierce, and loud. One missionary reported that ‘The reaction of church leaders was violent. We received threats from pastors and Christian leaders.’17
The Assemblies of God, a Pentecostal alliance with over sixty million affiliated members, reacted with a mixture of rage and despair. It announced that it would review its relationship with Wycliffe. The Anglican bishop of Tasmania, who seemed to have a much clearer understanding of the disputational implications than the Wycliffe translators, charged that ‘Changing fundamental words of Scripture such as “father” and “son” will also fuel the Muslim claim that the Bible is corrupted, full of errors and has been abrogated by the Qur’an and the example of Muhammad.’18
The argument raged in evangelical circles until finally, in 2012, Wycliffe, and their associates SIL International, agreed to submit their translation techniques to an external review, to be carried out by the World Evangelical Alliance.
The review panel, an international body comprising some of the world’s leading bible scholars, linguists and missionary experts, reported in April 2013. They recommended, among other things, that whenever the words ‘father’ or ‘son’ refer to God or Jesus, they should be translated in such a way that they still suggest the closeness of a familial relationship, without implying a physical one. Modifying adjectives could be used, so that ‘father’, they suggested, could become heavenly father; son could be preceded by the word ‘eternal’. The panel also recommended that the translators used local focus groups to test how a proposed translation might actually be received in practice. Significantly, they also recommended that ‘in addition to translating Scripture, translators consider additional ways of communicating the message’19 to Muslim audiences. In other words, Wycliffe Bible Translators might want to think twice before translating the Bible. Wycliffe translators accepted the report in full.
Two things stand out in this episode. The first is that, however innocuous the process of Bible translation might seem to the outsider, even in the twenty-first century it remains a highly emotive and sensitive business.
The other is that, of all the 700 translation projects across ninety countries that Wycliffe have been involved in, the only time controversy has erupted on this scale is when they produced a text for the benefit of Muslims. It beggars belief that of their vast global audience, Wycliffe Bible Translators believed that only Muslims would have found phrases like ‘Son of God’ disturbing. Yet this was the only time they felt the need to amend a translation.
One doesn’t need to go back to the Crusades to see why Wycliffe thought it important to tread carefully but it does force us to wonder what the real reasons were for their departure from their normal translation practices. It is hardly a surprise that other evangelical churches reacted with anger.
13
The Future for the Translated Bible
The act of translating the Bible really should not be contentious. After all, the Bible is the most famous book ever published; Guinness World Records estimates that five billion copies have been printed since 1815.1 Not only is it a foundational text of Western culture, the cornerstone of the Judeo-Christian religious tradition, it is also a literary masterpiece in its own right. One need not be religious to read it, and although very few people have ploughed through it all, no one can claim to be well read without having dipped into it. Like any other book, making the Bible available in translation seems to be a perfectly natural and reasonable activity. And yet, as we have seen, translating the Bible has frequently been controversial, even at times murderous.
The controversies have not always been about power. Yes, throughout history religion and power have walked hand in hand. they still do, and not only in contemporary theocracies. Religious lobbies are powerful in many democratic nations; even where there is no formal alliance, those with similar beliefs share vested interests and tend towards political homogeneity. However distasteful we may find it, the conjugality of religion and power explains why in earlier times, a dominant religious faction might have wanted to restrict the availability of the Bible to a particular language or an ‘authorized’ version. What is harder to understand is the extent to which the medieval church was prepared to go, the levels of violence and persecution to which they were willing to stoop, to prevent ‘unauthorized’ versions appearing.
Although perceived challenges to the authority of the medieval church account for the most dramatic and violent episodes in the translated Bible’s history, the majority of controversies have been about authenticity and human emotion. The Septuagint’s conflict with the Hebrew Old Testament, Jerome’s desire to produce a truly reliable Latin version, arguments between Jewish and Christian theologians over whether Isaiah’s almah referred to a virgin who would give birth or just a young woman, contemporary striving towards inclusive language; these are all struggles over the authentic reading of the biblical text, its intended meaning and the best way of translating it. It is interesting to consider what might have happened had the Gospel of Matthew been transmitted in Hebrew rather than in Greek; if, rather than translating it as parthenos, Matthew’s author had used the same word, almah, as had Isaiah. Judaism and Christianity would still have differed theologically over Mary’s virginity, but translations such as the Revised Standard Version would, presumably, no longer attract censure for translating Isaiah’s almah in the same way as the Jews do, as a young woman. Rather than burning the offending page from the Revised Standard Version, Pastor Luther Hux would have had to dream up another way of shamelessly grandstanding.
Nor should we discount the emotional element, the irrational discomfort that irks some Bible readers when confronted by an unfamiliar translation. Many of the more recent controversies over the use of modern or ameliorated language owe more to the psychological and emotional attachment that Bible readers have to the particular version they prefer, than to any theological consideration.
It is probably emotion which accounts for the phenomenon known as King James Onlyism. Supporters of the King James Only movement assert that, of all Bible versions, this one alone represents the unchanging divine word. That, without exception, all later translations are either inaccurate, based on corrupt manuscripts or, ominously, are the work of Satan. The synchronic fundamentalism of King James Onlyism has prompted vigorous debate, with dozens of websites dedicated to refuting the arguments of the movement’s followers. The underlying question is, to what degree are the King James’s acolytes driven by an untroubled belief and conviction, and how much is due to their emotional attachment to its majestic origins and magnificent language? A similar question can, of course, be asked of all religious believers; is your faith driven by personal insight, or is it something so comforting that you cannot but help believe in it?
So what is the future for the translated Bible? For some time now, Bible translations have mainly been attempts to improve or ameliorate versions whose theological battles have already been fought and disposed of. Gender-neutral versions, responding to a perceived need brought about by social change, have been the only significant exception to this drive for perfection. By and large there seems to be no need for any further translations of the Bible, at least until a particular language has evolved to such a degree that the current version appears antiquated.
Good commentaries and interpretations are almost certainly more important today than new translations. Bibles have always been accompanied by explanations; Origen and Jerome were among the first Christian exegetes, with Philo and the rabbis of the first two centuries CE initiating the Jewish interpretative tradition. Bibles like the Queen James may well have proved to be more valuable as a commentary; after all it wasn’t really necessary to publish a translation of the whole Bible in order to respond to just eight verses of seemingly homophobic readings. Similarly, Davi
d Stern’s Jewish New Testament, with its anachronistic yiddishisms, would probably have had more impact as a glossary; indeed Stern is one of the contributors to the recently published Jewish Annotated New Testament which, through the use of notes and articles appended to the New Revised Standard Version, draws out the Jewish context within which Christianity emerged.2
But, even though the apparent need for them has virtually been eliminated, more translations have been made in the last century than ever before. So the chances are they will probably carry on appearing; sometimes it seems as if nearly every Hebrew and Greek scholar with a personal interest in their religion has the makings of a new Bible translation in their back pocket. King Solomon, regarded in the Jewish tradition as the epitome of wisdom and the author of the book of Ecclesiastes, wrote: ‘Of making many books there is no end.’3 And who would dare argue with him?
Notes
Introduction
1 Nehemiah 8.8; Acts 2.1–11. Neither of these sources explicitly says that the Bible was translated. But that’s how they have each been interpreted in their respective traditions.
Chapter 1
1 Canfora, 1987.
2 Canfora, 1987 p. 18, quoting Plutarch, Short Sayings of Kings and Commanders.
3 Stothard, 2013.
4 Canfora, 1987 p. 20, quoting the twelfth-century grammarian of the Greek language, John Tzetzes, in his Prolegomena de Comoedia.
5 Stothard, 2013.
6 Shutt, 1985; Wasserstein, 2006.
7 Aristeas doesn’t mention the name of the island but it is clear from the context, as well as from Philo’s later account, that he meant Pharos.
8 Nina Collins challenges the view that Aristeas’s account is inaccurate. She places the date of the composition of the Septuagint at 281 BCE (Collins, 2000).
9 Canfora, 1987; Wasserstein, 2006.
10 Metzger, 2001.
11 Philo, On The Life of Moses II, 25–44 (V–VII) in both the Yonge and Thackery translations.
12 Metzger, 2001.
13 Philo probably copied from Aristeas. It is possible that both made use of the same common source, but there is no evidence for that.
14 Philo, On The Life of Moses II, 37 (VII).
15 Irenaeus, Against Heresies, 3, 21, 2–3, trans. Roberts and Donaldson, cited in Kirby, 2001–2013, http://www.earlychristianwritings.com/text/irenaeus-book3.html.
16 Genesis 1.26.
17 Genesis 11.7.
18 Babylonian Talmud Megilla 9a–b and elsewhere. The Talmud lists fifteen changes that the translators made, including Leviticus 11.6 because, according to the Talmud, they feared that the Greek translation of the Hebrew word for hare, lagos, sounded like the name of Ptolemy’s wife (although lagos was actually his grandfather). Not all the divergences listed by the Talmud occur in the version of the Septuagint that we have, and there are many differences between the current version of the Septuagint and the Masoretic text which the Talmud does not list.
Of course, the Talmud does not question the authenticity of the Hebrew text in its day. The fact that some of the ‘innovations’ in the Alexandrian version also occur in other independent sources, e.g. the Samaritan Pentateuch and Qumran manuscripts, does not enter the Talmud’s discussion. There is a huge amount of scholarship on the variant versions of the Bible, but it is beyond the scope of this book. For a brief and concise, if somewhat dated, summary see Bickerman, 1988.
19 Metzger, 2001.
20 Churton, 1861.
21 Bickerman, 1988. p. 101.
22 Wasserstein, 2006.
23 Scholarly opinion is that the Septuagint was not based on the Hebrew text current today. Today’s Hebrew Bible, known as the Masoretic text, received its final form over a period of time culminating no later than the eighth century, but beginning much earlier than that. That is not to say that the Septuagint fully reflects the Hebrew text then current; if there was such a thing as a Hebrew ‘original’ then the Septuagint, the Masoretic text and the many other ancient versions, including the Qumran, the Samaritan and the Peshitta all represent divergences from it.
24 Isaiah 7.14. See also below, p. 194.
25 The Greek word Parthenos does not necessarily mean virgin; it cannot, for example, in Genesis 34.3, refer to Dinah who has just slept with Shechem. But Matthew clearly understands it in the sense of virgin.
26 Matthew 1.23.
27 Dines, 2004.
28 Trypho was almost certainly not the first-century Jewish sage and olive farmer, Rabbi Tarfon, as the historian Heinrich Graetz believed. Not only do the respective dates of Justin and Tarfon not match up but some of Trypho’s arguments fly in the face of rabbinic opinion in Tarfon’s time. See Ben Zion Bokser, The Jewish Quarterly Review New Series, 64(2) (Oct. 1973) pp. 97–122 and the article by the same author in the Encyclopedia Judaica s.v. ‘Justin Martyr’.
29 Dialogue with Trypho, Chapter 71, trans. Roberts and Donaldson from Kirby, ‘Historical Jesus Theories’, Early Christian Writings, cited in Kirby, 2001–2013.
30 Dines, 2004.
31 Justin, Hortatory Address to the Greeks, 13, trans. Roberts and Donaldson from Kirby, ‘Historical Jesus Theories’, Early Christian Writings, cited in Kirby, 2001–2013, http://www.earlychristianwritings.com/text/justinmartyr-hortatory.html.
32 Soferim 1.7.
33 Scholion to Megillat Ta’anit s.v. Tevet. The sources in this and the previous note are quite late but, as is often the case with rabbinic works, are likely to reflect earlier teachings still in circulation. Conversely a case can be made for arguing that the views themselves were indeed late and were expressed by people looking back on the historical consequences for the Jews of the Septuagint’s adoption by the Church.
34 Faith, Fact & Fantasy, C. F. D. Moule, HarperCollins: London, 1964, p. 106.
35 Although these were Jewish translations, those fragments which have survived were transmitted mainly through Christian channels. One reason is that the Jews nearly always spoke in the vernacular of the lands in which they lived. A Greek translation was only useful for Greek-speaking Jews, who became progressively fewer as global Greek influence diminished. However, Greek, as the language of the New Testament, remained important for Christians for far longer. Another reason is that as a result of the insecure and volatile conditions in which the Jews lived, the only written materials they preserved were those in everyday use, i.e. mainstream, rabbinic texts which were invariably written in Hebrew sprinkled with Aramaic.
36 For a thorough but unconvincing attempt to equate Aquila with Onkelos see Silverstone, 1931.
37 Silverstone, 1931.
38 Hayward, 1995.
39 Salvesen, 1991.
40 Salvesen, 1991.
41 Salvesen, 1991.
42 Epiphanius of Salamis, ‘De Mensuris et Ponderibus’, 15–17, http://www.tertullian.org/fathers/epiphanius_weights_03_text.htm.
43 Babylonian Talmud Yevamot 72a.
44 Kelly, 1998.
45 Dines, 2004.
46 Augustine of Hippo, On Christian Doctrine, 2.1, 5.22 (Schaff, 1890).
47 Rajak, 2009.
48 Matthew 19.12.
49 Eusebius Pamphilus, Church History 6.8, in A Select Library of the Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers of the Christian Church, Second Series, Vol. 1, P. Schaff, 1890 (Christian Classics Ethereal Library), http://www.ccel.org/ccel/schaff/npnf201.iii.xi.viii.html.
50 McGuckin, 2004.
51 Metzger, 2001.
52 McGuckin, 2004.
Chapter 2
1 Eusebius Pamphilus, Church History 1.13, in A Select Library of the Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers of the Christian Church, Second Series, Vol. 1, P. Schaff, 1890 (Christian Classics Ethereal Library), http://www.ccel.org/ccel/schaff/npnf201.iii.vi.xiii.html.
2 Liebermann, 1942.
3 Mishnah Yoma 3.10. In the Mishnah, Izates’s name is Monbaz. The biblical passage is Numbers 5.11–31.
4 Sabar, 2013. The Syrian Christian village of Maaloula was possibly the last place where Aramaic was
spoken as a first language. At the time of writing its Christian population had fled because of the Syrian civil war and the future of Aramaic as a living language may be coming to an end.
5 Weitzman, 1999a. Evidence from within the text itself, e.g. 1 Chronicles 29.19 which reflects anti-gnostic phraseology in the Kaddish, suggests a date no earlier than the third century, while quotations from the Peshitta by the Syrian church father Aphrahat set the end date at 344.
6 E.g. 2 Chronicles 15.5–7, quoted in Weitzman, 1999b, p. 7.
7 Bickerman, 1988.
8 In Tosefta Shabbat 14.2 (compiled in the third century) Rabbi Halafta recalls a Targum of Job being brought to Rabban Gamaliel who was sitting on a step on the Temple mount.
9 There are suggestions that in some Greek-speaking Jewish communities the weekly reading was made from one of the Greek translations. See Charles Perrot, ‘The Reading of the Bible in the Ancient Synagogue’, Mikra: Text, Translation, Reading and Interpretation of the Hebrew Bible in Ancient Judaism and Early Christianity, ed. Martin Jan Muldar and Harry Sysling, Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1988, pp. 137–59. Perrot adduces M. Megillah 1.8 and 2.1, M. Yad 4.5 and particularly T. Megillah 3.13 (4.13) to suggest that Greek was ‘surely’ read in Jerusalem’s Hellenistic synagogues (p. 155). But T. Megillah only refers to ‘foreign-speaking synagogues’ where not enough people can read Hebrew; the implication is that this was unusual. See also Meir Bar-Ilan, Writing in Ancient Israel and Early Judaism, Part Two, in the same volume, who extends the idea to suggest that the Torah was also read in various communities in Egyptian, Elamite or the language of the Medes.
10 Nehemiah 8.8. The word that we have translated as ‘with an interpretation’ is often rendered as ‘clearly’ or ‘distinctly’. But that suggests that they articulated well, whereas the context and the usual meaning of the Hebrew is about explaining, not articulating.
The Murderous History of Bible Translations Page 24