From Old English to Broken English

This year marks the 400th anniversary of the King James Bible, and a new edition is being advertised as one the Stuart king would “loveth.” However, the text regarded for generations as the gold standard in literary circles for its elevated style of English has apparently been denuded of “thee, thou, ghost, hath and shalt.” Evidently, the publishers believe the modern reader to be either too sophisticated or too challenged to make use of the 17th century text.

Has the long-familiar style of precepts such as “Thou shalt have no other gods before me” been improved upon? Is “As the Father hath loved me, so have I loved you” too difficult for modern English speakers? Is nothing sacred?

It’s true that our language has sustained almost violent changes since Old English first emerged as a distinct tongue. By Chaucer’s day, hearty toasts of “Was hael!” had long become quaint. No doubt much of the early medieval verse enjoyed around the wassail bowl would have been virtually Greek to the London scribe now regarded as the father of English poetry. Likewise, try getting someone’s attention today with a Chaucerism such as “Herkneth if you leste” and see how that works out.

With the language forged on English soil having been conveyed around the world, a strange alchemy has taken place, resulting in a multitude of dialects. These far-flung lingoes, whether Jamaican, Australian or Brooklynese, all have their own charms; it’s the butchering of the language that can be depressing. Beyond the banality of common chatter, correct grammar appears to be an abstract concept, and any faith still held in the future of sound English has been sorely tried. Between the double negatives and the misconjugations perpetrated by people whose native tongue is supposedly the language spoken and written by the descendants of Anglo-Saxons, modern English is taking a beating. Add to that the proliferation of meaningless utterances such as “like” and we’re practically living a Mad Max–like existence.

The fuss earlier this year over some restored language in the English version of the Catholic missal underscores what decades of insipid linguistics can do to people. Rather than go to the trouble of responding to the priest’s “The Lord be with you” with the correctly translated “And with your spirit,” the partisans of the hail-fellow-well-met texts of the last decades have been collectively cleaving to the “And also with you” reply. God forbid we should strain ourselves.

Is it unrealistic to expect articulate speech? The proponents of slothful discourse would do well to recall the sage admonition of Professor Higgins to Eliza Doolittle: “You’ll get much further with the Lord if you learn not to offend His ears.”

I don’t think it would kill us to rise above street jargon every now and then, especially, perhaps, in church. For those infatuated with novelty, here’s an idea: Why not render unto God what is God’s? What say ye?