The KJV: Is it THE Bible? Conclusion

The KJV: Is it THE Bible? Conclusion

Those who feel they can escape the problem of translations by retreating into the citadel of the KJV have a zeal for God that is not in accord with knowledge.  The same sort of attacks that are now made on the new translations were made on the KJV when it was new.  If the same kind of fine-tooth combing that is expended on the new translations is used on the KJV, we see that the problems of the KJV are as numerous and as serious as those of the new translations.  The need for new translations lies in the inadequacies of the KJV.  Though shortcomings of the KJV complicate the task of learning, they have not kept the person who is willing to expend the effort from learning what God would have him do.  At the same time, there are no valid reasons for one to insist fanatically that everyone should read only the KJV; to declare that it is a mark of orthodoxy to use the KJV as a standard, consulting other translations only for comparisons; and to look with suspicion on the person who calls attention to the shortcomings of the KJV or who has other preferences in his readings[…]
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Down in the Hemlocks—A Summer Poem

[This week we’ll be saying goodbye to summer with three summer-themed poems I wrote during the summer.  This untitled poem I wrote last summer, shortly after the birth of my son.]

Down in the hemlocks
I brought my young baby
My boy in a blanket
And swaddled him there
Under the hemlocks
Down by the river
The cold stony river
Under the shade

.
[For Noah]

The Rime of the Anglyng Touryst—A Summer Poem

[This week we’ll be saying goodbye to summer with three summer-themed poems I wrote during the summer.  This first number, based on my fishing trip, is a parody of “The Rime of the Ancient Mariner” by Samuel Taylor Coleridge.]

The Rime of the Anglyng Touryst
by Caleb Coy

It is an angling Tourist,
And he renteth a cheap rod.
“I’ve cut my shrimp in quarters.
Will I catch me a cod?”

Optimistic as the rising sun,
He casts out with a wink
(Because it’s all in the wrist,
Or so he’s been told to think).

He feels a little wiggle
He feels a little pull
“I think I’ve got a live one!
I’ve yanked him from the shoal!”

Alas, on pillars snagged—
It appears that when he cast
A wave brought his line inward
To the pier the hook held fast!

He gives a friendly wave
To a stranger down the pier,
Who knows what he is doing—
(That’s why he fishes here).

Then comes another tug—
“This time it is for real!”
A big knot he untangles,
But soon he’ll have his meal.

Perched above, a pelican—
Patiently it stares,
Chin tucked with the posture
Of a fasting saint in prayer.
[Dedicated to Charley Gwaltney]