A man devoted to God’s Word

With citizens in the States celebrating America’s 250th, many of us have neglected another important anniversary that occurred 250 years before the Declaration of Independence was even penned. I refer to the publication of William Tyndale’s complete English New Testament. Gladly, not all of us forgot. I was pleased to read an article in the Religious News Service that wove the two themes together beautifully.

We do well to commemorate the power and historical significance of the Declaration of Independence, as well as the Constitution. But both documents are far outstripped in potency and importance by Tyndale’s achievement. You see, there had been previous translations of the Bible—partially or wholly—into English. But these were derived from the Latin Vulgate (itself a great accomplishment) and rendered into Old English or Middle English, John Wycliffe’s being the most famous example. William Tyndale sought to translate the Bible into early Modern English, employing the latest textual work of Desiderius Erasmus and Martin Luther. He used the best scholarship of his day to translate the Bible into contemporary English.

But don’t let the “contemporary” throw you off. It was not casual; it was not easy-going. Indeed, it wasn’t even necessarily the kind of English you’d find in everyday conversation. It was grand, soaring, pithy, evocative, clear, earthy, accurate, and oftentimes outright ingenious. For example, Tyndale is the one who coined the term “atonement.” To convey the union and reconciliation of the Hebrew word kippur, Tyndale simply forged the word “at-one-ment.” You can also add “Passover,” “scapegoat,” “mercy seat,” “let there be light,” “the powers that be,” “it came to pass,” “filthy lucre,” “the signs of the times,” and the use of “trespasses” in the Lord’s Prayer to the list of Tyndale-isms. Amazing. I guess we should expect nothing less from “The Father of English Prose Style.”

At the core of this remarkable man was the dauntless conviction that the Bible bore divine authority and that it was for all the saints, even down to the lowly ploughboy. This fueled a bevy of other Protestant views. Tyndale was no compromiser, sure in his opinions, uncowed in argument, and unworldly. His talents, his achievements, his views, his mission, and his personality put him in the crosshairs of the authorities. He fled into exile more than once, but was eventually apprehended. In 1536 he was strangled to death, with his body burned at the stake.

Tyndale never finished a translation of the whole Bible, even though he was able to finish the Pentateuch and other parts of the Old Testament. Nevertheless, others carried on the cause. Myles Coverdale relied on Tyndale’s work to produce the first complete modern English Bible in 1535 (its Psalter is still used in the historic Book of Common Prayer). Other editions followed. The most famous heir of Tyndale is probably the Authorized Translation of 1611, popularly called the King James Version. But really, anytime you pick up an English Bible, you hold Tyndale’s legacy in your very hands.

Tyndale’s time was an age of extremes. Approved opinion turned on a dime. And the wily found ways to navigate and survive. But Tyndale, despite fleeing for his life at certain points, didn’t compromise on God’s Word, its truthfulness, its authority, its perspicuity, and the need for its accessibility. The world might call it obsession. I think it was devotion—a devotion that many of us lack and that we should earnestly pray for.

Some men just like to fight; others lack all conviction, simply mouthing a party line to secure personal peace and affluence. But men like Tyndale? They serve as a fixed point—or at least something close to it. When a man locks onto the truth and does not break or bend, he points to true north, just like Polaris in the night sky. The world is not worthy of such, and the Church is abundantly blessed by them.

I admit that sometimes I get cynical. Occasionally, when I observe the proliferation of contemporary English Bible translations these days, I see publishing houses trying to tap into the market for the world’s best-selling book and at least some academics eager to stroke their own egos. But that cynicism dispels when I hear the sonorous glory of God’s Holy Writ freely proclaimed in pulpits by faithful preachers, recited as memory verses by schoolchildren, read with reverence at lecterns, echoed back and forth among generations of families, and clung onto for dear life in foxholes, lifeboats, hospice rooms, or the emergency room.

English is a beautiful language, and it’s at its loveliest when found in a faithful translation of the Bible. We have William Tyndale to thank for that—him, and the glorious God Who made him.