Sermon 670+October 12, 2011
November 2, 2011
Seventeenth Week after Pentecost
810th Week as Priest
636th Week at St Dunstan’s
The Most Important of Books
Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.
I’ve said many times before that the Bible is truly like no other book. That idea is not new with me, of course, but I want to be sure that you hear it so many times, and in several different ways, so that, as the Psalmist says, the words soak into your consciousness like oil into your bones.
The Bible—which is comprised of many forms of writing: histories, genealogies, poems, narratives, wisdom sayings, mythic fragments, parables, prophecies, and prose—is the Most Important of Books. In this 400th anniversary of the publication of the King James Version of the Bible, called the Authorized Version, we recognize that particular translation as “the noblest monument of English prose,” but we must also concede to the unique usefulness of each of the translations now available. In all its forms, the Bible is admired for “its simplicity, its dignity, its power, its happy turns of expression … the music of its cadences, and the felicities of its rhythm,” but most especially in the 1611 edition authorized by Mother Church.
In our tradition, we run the risk constantly of worshipping the form rather than the ideal. Our worship, which is always in the beauty of holiness, is itself true, honorable, just, pure, lovely, gracious, excellent, and worthy of praise. But our worship, our liturgy, is not something we worship any more than we worship a book, even the Bible.
Once upon a time, I was the president of a little bank in Fayette, Alabama, the little town that time forgot, that the decades cannot improve. I was also the parish priest, the vicar of St Michael’s in Fayette. One of my best customers was my plumber. He was not only a good plumber, but also a good businessman. He liked to come into my office and talk about CD rates and theology. One day my plumber sat before me and said, “Do you happen to have a Bible?”
“Yes,” I said, and pulled a dog-eared old copy of the Good News Bible from my desk drawer. “Here’s one.”
“What’s this?” asked my plumber.
“That’s the Good News Bible,” I answered. “It’s a modern translation, and a good one.”
“Mr. Warren,” he said, “If it ain’t the King James, it ain’t the Bible.” And he walked out, disgusted. He did come back eventually.
I could have said much more, had he given me the opportunity. I would have told my plumber that the Good News was also honorable, excellent, and worthy of praise. I would have told him that young people find its straightforward prose appealing and understandable and immediately useful. But I am sure my plumber would still have said, “If it ain’t the King James, it ain’t the Bible.”
We use the Revised Standard Version of the Bible on Wednesdays, simply because it is comparable in language and form to the Rite One liturgy. But we also use the RSV because the language is beautiful, traditional, and it harks back to an earlier time when change did not occur at such an accelerated, frenzied pace. And so here, each week, we worship Almighty God—Father, Son, and Holy Spirit—in the beauty of holiness, using the Most Important of Books. Amen.
