Are We There Yet?
By Caroline Calogero
It’s time to close the book on this biblical quest
When most people think of settling down with a good book they don’t usually think of the Good Book. Novels, mysteries or even a self-help volume seem like a reasonable choice, but getting comfy with a cup of tea and the Bible seems a bit odd.
Regarding the study of God’s word, I have more in common with an illiterate peasant from the Middle Ages than an educated child of the twentieth century. Except for bits read at Mass or CCD, my earliest encounter occurred while attending summer camp at a Lutheran church.
Chosen to read aloud from the New Testament, I quaked, never before called on to find chapter and verse on my own.
The rest of the group, well-trained Protestant youth, didn’t seem to flinch at the task.
An avid reader and curious Catholic, I decided to remedy this lacking in the privacy of my own home. I found our household Bible in my father’s nightstand. Draping myself across my parents’ bed, I began at the beginning.
Genesis is a tough haul for a kid in a rush for religion. Somewhere amid the long history of who begot whom, I gave up. It was years before I realized that my haphazard approach to the family encyclopedia, crack it open anywhere and give that topic a whirl, would have been a better idea.
I’d like to proclaim that the onset of maturity allowed me to overcome these problems, that I’ve worn out several copies since these ill-fated forays of my salad days.
But the truth is rather different. There are several well-worn children’s Bibles in my house, each aimed at a different reading level. But I make do with a ratty paperback copy of the New Testament and access to a high speed Internet connection when I want to poke around in the BC era.
I’ve replaced my old fear of reading the Bible with a new fear of buying one. Choosing just the right kind out of a billion versions seems an insurmountable task.
A word snob, I thrill to the regal language of King James but we know King James was not a good Catholic. I considered the Douay-Rheims translation.
There Luke’s beautiful words from chapter 6, verse 31, “Do to others as you would have them do to you” (from the New American Bible) comes out as “And as you would that men should do to you, do you also to them in like manner.” Too obtuse even for me.
Why not choose the New American, you say? As lovely as this rendering is, I’m still hoping to find one with the classic “do unto others” of my dreams.
So the search continues. I can’t even use the one I’d like to read myself for religious ed or children’s liturgy purposes — too highfalutin — so for these moments when the clarity of the vernacular counts, I’d need a second.
When I checked out the selection at a local mega-bookstore, most were shrink wrapped in plastic. No casual thumbing allowed. The nearest Catholic bookstore is a 30-minute ride.
Perhaps I’m the only one in this predicament, but in case there are other Bible-less souls still closeted in their shame, here’s my plan to fix the problem. Like the sneaker company advises, the time has come to “just do it.”
I’ll buy a Bible, any one, and if that’s the wrong choice, just buy another. This year I’ll spend more time with a good book, the Good Book.
Caroline Calogero can be reached at ccalogero@comcast.net
*The attached/referenced article was originally published in The Catholic Spirit, the official newspaper of the Diocese of Metuchen, and is protected under U.S. and international copyright law