Thou dost not look thine age

You may not have known this (unless you subscribe to Harper's magazine), but the King James Bible turns 400 this year. This long-standing, beloved-of-many translation has fallen out of usage due to its old-fashioned, Shakespeare-style language (in fact, the translation was started in 1604, the same year Shakespeare was at the height of his career)--but the move to more modern versions is fairly recent as these things go. Your parents and grandparents likely grew up hearing the King James Bible in church, and there are places all over the world where it is still used every Sunday. Whether you're familiar with it or not, you are surely familiar with the way it has enriched modern English with phrases like "a drop in the bucket," "a labor of love," and "bite the dust," (for real!) among many, many others.

I did not grow up hearing the King James Bible in church, but I have profound affection for 17th-century English and for the smart, secular editors of Harper's, who decided to gather seven well-known authors, have them pick their favorite verse, then write about it for the latest issue of the magazine. This intersection of ideas, writing, language and religion always makes me want to throw a party in my brain--and the variation of writing (four short essays and three poems) are all wonderful takes on the chosen verses. There is cranky atheist Benjamin Hale railing against the notion of human exceptionalism in Psalm 8; and Howard Jacobson's brilliant interpretation of the creation story with God as the original autonomous artist. John Banville re-tells the tale of Absalom through the eyes of an Israelite soldier with the personality and language patterns of a Victorian-era enlisted man. I wish you could access the article online, but you have to subscribe. Let me know if you want to read it, and I'll send you my password or a copy.

It has also inspired me to pick a verse from the King James Bibe and write a commentary of my own. This is not to put myself (ridiculously) in the category as John Banville or Marilynne Robinson. Ummmm...no. But it seemed like such a fun way to mark the anniversary of such an influential book. I invite you to do the same, if you feel so moved. I would love to post it here!

And the light shineth in darkness, and the darkness comprehended it not. --John 1:5

For much of the year, I leave the house before the sun comes up and return home long after it sets. I have witnessed countless sunrises from the windows of various classrooms and have watched the light leaking from the sky as I sit in meetings, type away at the computer or stand over a copy machine. That teachers work hard is no secret, and our relationship with light and darkness has closely linked literal and figurative sides. The turning of day into night represents the physical hours it takes to educate children with some measure of effectiveness. The turning of night to day, that switching on of the metaphorical light of knowledge is the reason every teacher puts in those long hours in the first place.

Despite my mixed reviews of the movie Waiting for Superman, I do sometimes think of my job in comic-book terms. There are the villains of institutional racism, poverty, apathy and massive budget shortfalls. Then there are the heroes: the teachers, students and families who work every day to overcome these dastardly roadblocks with a pow! wham! smash! of hard work, tenacity, and maybe even some humor every now and then.

I don't think I could be as chipper a good guy as I often am if I didn't believe in the promise at the heart of this verse: that light shines in the darkness. Always. What I love about the King James version is that the darkness is totally clueless. Most translations I've read cast the darkness in a more proactive role. The same verse in the NRSV Bible reads: The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it. In this version, darkness is still losing, but it's trying to do something about it. In the King James Bible, darkness is there, but it's totally uncomprehending, a verb we use as a synonym for understand, but has its roots in Latin for "to grasp."

A light shines in the darkness (pow! bam!), and the darkness just can't get a handle on it. (K.O!)

It's a good reminder at the end of the year--or maybe at any time--that the darkness is ultimately powerless in the face of the light. It might seem like it's evil, like the Joker or the Riddler, twirling its mustache menacingly, coming up with pitfalls and snares. But, let's not forget, darkness is static, clueless, defeat-able. I speak from experience, especially at the end of the year, as former students head to college, and current students turn in final projects full of insight, organization and correct spelling. Chasing away the darkness, being the metaphorical light, is sometimes just about showing up every morning before the literal light. Or doing whatever it is you do with all your heart, day after day, with the wider world in mind. No cape, no special powers, no Batmobile required. This might sound comic-book-ish, simplistic, with no proper shading or depth--but it's also true. And it's not just me. The King James Bible has been saying the same thing for 400 years.