Flea Market Bibles

One of my guilty pleasures in life is snatching up two arms full of interesting books at flea markets. I try to be discerning, but when they're practically free, who can you resist these poor books when their eyes beg for a loving home?  

Thrift stores and church flea markets are especially great hunting grounds. That's where I recently landed upon a Douay-Rheims Bible. I didn't even get to this flea market early, and it was hosted at the kind of church where people love tradition and old books, so it surprised me a bit somebody else didn't beat me to this treasure. I've had this on my list for many years. Still can't spell it right on the first try, but to paraphase Red in The Natural, "Can't spell it, but it reads pretty good, don't it?"

Here's a picture. I paid all of one dollar for this Bible:

It could use a cover... the ugly duckling of Bibles here.

Appreciate the personal touch in Archbishop Cardinal Gibbons' Imprimatur, "The sacred volume is printed in an attractive style." 

Unfortunately, this is a fragile book. It's paperback, and I've already slightly torn one page. I probably need a sturdy cover for it if I'm going to, you know, actually use it. 

Why do I like this old text so much when capitalism has delivered to our poor souls a plethora of translations in modern English to save thee from thy trials of thinking while reading?   

One, Bishop Challoner's revision is relatively recent, completed in the mid-18th century. Yes, there thee's and thou's and wilt's, but by this era English was largely modernized (at least what we call modern, I don't know what they will call future versions of our language). So the vast majority of the vocabulary is familiar and current. 

Second, I enjoy the sprinkling of thee's and thou's. It's just the right mix to make for a poetic reading of Scripture, without detracting from understanding the message. 

Third, the entire Scripture (for Catholics, anyway) is published in this volume without apology, explanation, or pandering to our separated brethren. 

Boom. Take it or leave it. 

I also find compelling the arguments which support the scholarship behind this translation. Below is the Preface from Tan Books. Specifically the second paragraph mentions how St. Jerome read many Hebrew and Greek manuscripts are lost to time and not available to scholars today. This ties into the argument at the bottom of the first page into the top of second page about how the Latin Vulgate and Douay-Rheims are potentially the most "original" versions of the Scriptures. Another factor specific to the Latin is that being a dead language, scholars who read the Vulgate have the benefit of engaging with a langauge that hasn't changed since St. Jerome penned the words. 

In other words, it's fascinating to hold in your hands 1,392 pages of text that carry with them a direct tie to our history and countless clues that are otherwise lost to time. 

Think about St. Jerome becoming fluent in Hebrew and Greek. Maybe he learned these languages as. child during his education? (I honestly don't know much about his life, which would be interesting to dive into.) How many hours and years did he expend into detailed reading and comparison of Scriptures? Just the physical act of writing his translation by hand must have required a few years. 

And then Bishop Challoner's project to provide a much-needed update from the Shakespearean Era. 

Years of scholarship, painstaking labor, and preservation work over 1,500 years for the grand sum of $1.00. 

That's why books are amazing things. We live in a time of stupid wealth when you think about all the knowledge and wisdom that is practically free. 

The one knock on this version is the limited commentary. There are great study Bibles with extensive commentaries and teaching. This is not a study Bible, in that sense. Maybe the perfect Bible would be the Douay-Rheims translation with extensive commentary by someone like John Bergsma. Maybe capitalism shall bless us yet with such manna from heaven. In the meantime, I guess we shall make do with using two separate books.