Biblical Revision, its duties and conditions: A sermon preached in St. Paul's Cathedral at the special evening service, on Sunday, March 13, 1870

In Short

This work is a transcript of a sermon delivered in 1870 at St. Paul’s Cathedral. It addresses the urgent need for a revision of the English Bible, arguing that the Church, as the guardian of the Holy Scriptures, has a moral obligation to correct errors and incorporate new textual evidence. By framing the Bible as a divine treasure that requires constant, diligent stewardship, the author encourages his audience to embrace necessary updates to their vernacular translations, ensuring the text remains a living, accurate witness to the faith.

The Story

The narrative arc begins with a definition of the Church’s identity and responsibility. Drawing upon the metaphor of the "scribe instructed unto the kingdom of heaven," the author establishes that believers are the keepers of a sacred deposit. He distinguishes clearly between the original texts—Old Testament Hebrew and New Testament Greek—and the human-authored translations that follow. The central conflict arises from the fact that while the Bible is divine in origin, translations are inherently human, prone to the limitations of language and the imperfections of historical transcription.

The argument progresses to a delicate acknowledgment of the English version currently in use. The author grants it deep respect, describing its majesty and beauty, and admits that for many, it has become an object of immense affection. However, he introduces the friction of the modern era: the discovery of ancient manuscripts that were unavailable to earlier translators. He asserts that the Church is currently reading passages that are demonstrably inaccurate, some of which are even used to support foundational doctrines. He contends that clinging to these errors out of a sense of tradition is not an act of piety, but a failure of the Church’s stewardship.

As the sermon nears its climax, the author addresses the practicalities of reform. He suggests that the task of revision is akin to restoring an ancient mosaic; the goal is not to replace the old, but to mend the fabric so that the new additions harmonize perfectly with what remains. He dismisses the fear that changing the words will shake the faith of the people, pointing out that religious communities have historically survived and even thrived through various iterations of sacred texts.

The conclusion is a call to action characterized by both intellectual courage and communal humility. The author rejects the idea that a single authority should impose a new version. Instead, he proposes a collaborative effort among different branches of the Church, relying on the collective scholarship of the age. He emphasizes that the ultimate test of this work will not be its official sanction, but its intrinsic merit and its ability to connect with the conscience of the faithful. He closes on a note of spiritual aspiration, reminding his listeners that their reverence for the Bible is best demonstrated not by a stubborn adherence to the familiar, but by a fearless commitment to truth and a life guided by the Word itself.

How It Unfolds

The role of the guardian The author establishes that the Christian Church is the modern trustee of the Holy Scriptures. This guardianship requires the Church to treat the Bible as a precious deposit, ensuring it is preserved in its purest, most accurate form for every generation.

The inevitability of human imperfection A distinction is drawn between the divine origin of the message and the human nature of its translation. Because no language perfectly mirrors another, all versions are essentially human efforts, making them inherently liable to error and in need of periodic refinement.

The weight of new evidence The central turning point involves the recent discovery of ancient manuscripts. These findings reveal that the current English translation rests on incomplete data, creating a responsibility the Church can no longer ignore or defer.

The restoration of the mosaic The author outlines the methodology for change, comparing it to the repair of a piece of antique art. The objective is to remove blemishes and clarify obscurities without destroying the majesty and "stately march" of the traditional English prose.

The path of collaboration Finally, the sermon rejects the idea of a top-down, authoritarian fix. It argues that a successful revision must be an ecumenical, scholarly process that earns its place in the hearts of the people through its own quality and clarity.

The People

The central figure is the Scribe, who acts as the primary archetype for the Church. The Scribe is a person "instructed unto the kingdom of heaven," tasked with bringing forth both old treasures—the original, authentic sacred texts—and new ones—the necessary updates to translation that allow the faith to remain intelligible. The Scribe represents the ideal of a church that is both reverent of its history and brave enough to accept the demands of present truth.

Opposing this ideal are the Objectors, who view any change to the Bible as a threat to their faith. These individuals are defined by their deep, sentimental attachment to the established English version. They find comfort in the familiar music of the prose and fear that any alteration will undermine the authority of the Word. The author treats these figures with empathy, acknowledging that their love for the Bible is a sign of faith, even while he attempts to redirect that love toward a higher priority: the pursuit of objective truth.

Finally, the Scholars appear as the necessary instruments of reform. They are the ones who have worked through the evidence and are ready to apply the corrections. They are not depicted as arrogant innovators, but as careful, responsible stewards who are as sensitive to the aesthetic value of the classic English translation as the laypeople they serve. Their goal is to ensure that the "wells of salvation" remain free from "later alloy."

In Its Own Voice

“These Scriptures all Christians regard as the revelation of God to man. Other works rise and are built up from below: this alone we receive as let down upon us from above.”

The author distinguishes the Bible from all other literature by asserting its divine origin as the primary reason it must be kept in its most accurate state.

“And therefore it was very early recognised as a duty of each Church to provide the Scriptures for her members in their own language: to bring out of her stores not only things old,—the genuine and venerable text of the word, but also things new,—the new garment or vehicle of that sacred text.”

Here, the author explains the necessity of translation as an ongoing process of renewal.

“The task may fairly be compared to the mending and restoration of a goodly piece of ancient mosaic-work.”

This analogy captures the author's vision for revision: a process of repair that preserves the integrity of the whole while fixing the damaged parts.

What It's Really About

The central theme is the tension between tradition and truth. The author argues that true reverence for the Bible is found in an honest, fearless pursuit of the original intent of the text, rather than in the preservation of the familiar. He challenges the belief that faith depends on the static nature of a translation, suggesting instead that the "precious deposit" of Scripture is best honored by a commitment to accuracy. The argument hinges on the idea that the Church must be a living, breathing entity that evolves in its understanding and communication of God’s word, ensuring that the "well" of knowledge is never clouded by errors that have been rendered obsolete by modern research.

Why Read It Today

This sermon offers a fascinating glimpse into the intellectual climate of the Victorian era, specifically the moment when modern biblical criticism began to challenge the sanctity of the King James Version. Readers interested in the history of religious thought or the mechanics of translation will appreciate the author’s balanced, temperate tone. He does not attack his opponents; instead, he elevates the conversation, framing the prospect of change as a noble, spiritual endeavor.

However, the modern reader should be prepared for the dense, rhythmic prose characteristic of 19th-century pulpit oratory. The language is formal and occasionally circuitous, reflecting the ecclesiastical standards of the period. While the sermon addresses a specific historical debate, its underlying philosophy—that we must be willing to sacrifice our comfort and our attachments to past conventions for the sake of greater truth—remains strikingly relevant. It is a quiet, contemplative read for anyone who has ever wondered how we treat the things we hold most sacred. Those who enjoy deep, reasoned arguments about the intersection of tradition, scholarship, and community will find this piece a rewarding exercise in thoughtful, respectful debate. Its warmth and precision make it an excellent example of how to hold a difficult conversation with both grace and conviction.