English Translation of the Preface to the Bible d’Olivétan (1535)

P. Robert Olivetanus, the humble and lowly Translator,
to the Church of Jesus Christ: Greeting.

The good custom has obtained from all antiquity that those who bring some book into public view—whether they have compiled it by their own industry and invention, or have translated it from one language into another—come to dedicate and present it to some Prince, King, Emperor, or Monarch, or, if there is some Majesty more sovereign still, to that one. And they do this (as they well know how to say): so that the work may be found more freely and boldly in the hands of men, as having a safe-conduct and being placed under the safeguard of the Prince to whom it is offered and dedicated. And this we see being done and practiced day after day.

This manner of doing is not at all upheld without cause, for in addition to the fact that one is invited and enticed to it by the expectation of a royal thank-you (that is to say, a generous and liberal reward), there are also some who have such prudence and foresight that their inventions would not be well received by the people unless they bore the livery of some Most-illustrious, Most-excellent, Most-high, Most-powerful, Most-magnificent, Most-dreaded, Most-victorious, Most-sacred, Most-blessed and Most-holy Name.

Therefore, having well considered everything and seen all the other writers and translators running and trotting—one this way, another that—to his most liberal Maecenas, another to his most revered Patron, I, having in hand this present translation of the Bible ready to bring forth, have not done as much for this Lady Custom (though she has much exhorted, flattered, tempted, and even importuned me) as to wish to enslave and subject myself to the right she demands and requires: that I should name and assign some lordly, august, and immortal guide to this book that I send into the public.

For its path does not run in such a way of the Gentiles, nor does it belong to it to play the flatterer or act the glorious Thraso to any it meets. For it is of quite another cloth than all the other books whatsoever, whose authors offer them as gifts so profitable and meritorious, and as such cunning exchanges for rich gifts and golden favors. After such beasts I do not hunt, for I can well do without such game—the grace of God supplies me with contentment in sufficiency.

Now, it was indeed in me to also make some fine and singular present of this present translation, but not to whoever I might have wished to choose and name, however great, powerful, and Sovereign he might be. For such a book, in itself, has no need of favor, support, or acknowledgment of any man whatsoever—nor of power, principality, or paternity, however sovereign it may be—except from you, O poor little Church, and from your true faithful ones, learned and having the knowledge of God through Jesus Christ, His only Son, our Lord.

I do not speak of that Church triumphant in pomp and riches, nor of that militant one—that is to say, warring by deeds of arms. It is to you alone that this precious treasure is addressed (of which you might say Man hu? [Hebrew for “What is it?”] as did the children of Israel, though I hope it may never be a burden to you), and this from a certain poor people, your friends and brothers in Jesus Christ, who, since they were long ago endowed and enriched by the Apostles or Ambassadors of Christ, have always had full possession and enjoyment of it.

And now this one, desiring to honor you for what you so long for and desire, has given me this charge and commission: to draw out and unfold this treasure from the Hebrew and Greek armories and chests, in order that—after having heaped it up and packed it into French satchels as suitably as I could, according to the skill and gift that God has given me—I might make of it a gift to you, O poor Church, to whom nothing is ever presented.

And truly, I saw no reason at all why it should be given to any other than to you. For what would one wish to give to those who have everything, and to whom all things are given by everyone? Now this—worth as much and more than all the wealth and possessions of the world—is for you, poor little Church, from whom (alas) things are rather taken away than given, and who are so stripped of every good, who are so thin, faded, and emaciated, that nothing remains to you but the Word. Truly, nothing remains to you but the Word: the Word, I say, of Truth and Life—the Word of God, which remains forever—by which you were created and begotten. Thus, you have only the goods of your birth and generation, for you are naked and deprived of all other riches in which the world, adorned and embellished, so glories in itself.

This offering, then, was properly owed to you (who would not want to wrong you?), inasmuch as it contains and comprises your entire inheritance and rightful possession, and all that belongs to you—namely, that same Word, through which, and by the faith and assurance you have in it: in poverty, you regard yourself as very rich; in wretchedness, as blessed; in solitude, well accompanied; in doubt, as certain; in dangers, as secure; in torments, as comforted; in reproaches, as honored; in adversity, as prosperous; in sickness, as whole; in death, as made alive.

You will therefore accept, O poor little Church, this gift that I present to you, on behalf and in the name of this poor people, with as joyful an affection (notwithstanding your afflictions, anguishes, and sorrows) as if, from a good heart, you were not so desolate, forsaken, and cast off, and had not in your family—most often and for the most part—the blind, the lame, the crippled, the maimed, the deaf, the paralytic, strangers, widows and orphans, the simple and the foolish: all of whom have a particular need for the consolation of Christ, since He gave and communicated Himself to such a kind of people—abject, small, and humble—and familiarly disclosed to them the great secrets of the Kingdom, hidden from all ages, of which also He is said to be and calls Himself the Evangelist, and to whom He proclaims the Kingdom of Heaven belongs.

It is His little invincible corner, His little unconquerable band, His little victorious army, to which (as a true Captain of war) He gives courage and boldness by His presence and drives away all fear and dread by His living and vigorous Word.

But would you not gladly wish to inquire and investigate: “Who is this unknown and strange friend and benefactor, who thus takes it upon himself to give you what is yours?” As for the fact that he gives you what is yours, I believe you will not thank him any less than if he were giving you something else (although he could not give you anything better), since for so long—indeed (as I believe) never before—(at least not so fully and freely), have you been given the opportunity to enjoy it, as you now will. This good is yours, and even though he gives it to you in such a way, it is also his and remains entirely his, so fruitful and blessed is the sharing of such a treasure.

Oh, the gracious merchandise of Charity, which is traded by such a useful and profitable arrangement! Oh, the kindly possession of grace, which gives to both giver and receiver the same joy and delight! What other gift, or what similar thing, can people give to one another, of which they may not sometimes run short—and, in giving, fear they may be harmed, and later come to need it themselves? However fine their appearance when offering it, and whatever words they may speak to color and convey how willingly they give, still there is always in some corner of that heart a cautious fear that cries: “Watch what you’re doing—be careful not to lack that of which you are being so generous.”

Now, it is not so with this business and this gift, which is truly of another nature and happiness than any other gift. For (so you may know), it is made only to be given and shared with everyone. And the gracious giver, who of His own will gives it with such blessedness, enriches those to whom it is given and in no way impoverishes those who give it—but they count it as a great gain and a fine bargain when they find an occasion to offer it to you and place it in your possession.

This poor people, who make you this gift, were cast out and banished from your fellowship more than three hundred years ago, and scattered to the four corners of Gaul, since held and considered (wrongly and without cause, yet for the name of Christ and according to His promise) as the most wicked, execrable, and shameful that ever was—even so much that the name of this people became like a fable and a proverb among other nations, and was used as the gravest insult and reproach.

Nevertheless, not long ago, a certain person of immortal renown, having surely known their holy conduct and the virtue of this people, and having experienced the opposite of their slanderous and false reputation, changed by public edict their ugly name and gave them a fine and royal one such as they bore. This is the true people of Patience, who in silence and hope have overcome every assault and effort made against them and their just cause; and by no lapse or interval of time has their rightful claim been lost. And now they invite you to the enjoyment and fruition of the sure victory won by Jesus Christ.

Do you not know him? It is your Brother, who, like the compassionate Joseph, can no longer contain himself and now reveals himself to you. It is your friend—like Jonathan—the most perfect, constant, and wholehearted you have ever had, who has borne his share in his sorrowful heart of the harsh treatment you have received, suffering greatly within himself for the strange and cruel bondage in which he has seen you held until now, always hoping that you would come to recognize the right you share with him, a right he was grieved to enjoy without you. Concerning this, he now wishes to warn and remind you, so that you may at last confirm your brotherhood and respond to the love and affection with which he has loved you so perfectly.

Even though he was unknown to you, and you rather held him in contempt and scorn, and had his name in horror and abomination—following the example and desire of your masters, whom you miserably served (and still serve). Under the service of such harsh and demanding masters—commanding and enjoining a thousand things one on top of another—he saw you (not without deep sorrow and compassion) going, coming, running, trotting, and hurrying about: mistreated, poorly dressed, abused, torn, filthy, scratched, disheveled, frozen, bruised, mutilated, beaten, disfigured—and in such a pitiful state that one would sooner have judged you to be some poor maidservant, slave, or scullery girl, rather than the daughter and heiress of the Universal Lord and Possessor, and the beloved friend of His only Son, such as you truly are.

This same one—your brother and friend—whose heart was moved by your wretched life, has often taken it upon himself, in passing by again and again, to call you by the name of his heart, striving to make you understand the right that is yours, and to give you the watchword of perfect and blessed liberty. But you—stunned, exhausted, and dulled by so many blows, sorrows, and labors given to you by your cruel and graceless masters—went on your way, continuing to do and finish the ungrateful, tiresome, and filthy tasks they assigned and imposed upon you.

What burdens and heavy loads of regulations (though you were but slender and delicate) did he see you lifting, carrying, and dragging before these—your most religious masters—who had not so much pity for the sweat and toil they saw you endure in their presence, that they would help you even with the smallest finger, not even to try, in play, the weight of such burdens under which you were bound and overwhelmed. No sooner had you unloaded one, than they would reload another upon you. And they scarcely allowed you time to eat or drink. No, they wished, intended, and commanded (these good people!) that you should fast most of the time—all to serve and feed the insatiable appetites of such gluttons and the lazy bellies of such wicked beasts.

Now then, since you have begun to return a little to yourself, and are beginning to recognize, to some degree, from what race and ancestors you descend, the servile condition in which you are held, and the honor and estate to which you are called—this people has desired to come forward and make you a favorable welcome, as is their duty and desire, by offering you kindly all that they have.

Now then, poor little Church, who are still in the state of a chambermaid and servant beneath the furious scowls and magistral threats of so many sullen and harsh Masters—go and clean off your rags, all dusty and dirty from running, turning, and toiling through the mire of vain traditions. Go wash your hands, which are all soiled from doing the servile work of iniquity. Go cleanse your eyes, full of crust, because of the neglect you have had toward yourself—being more diligent in running after the task of superstition and hypocrisy—so that you may receive your rightful inheritance honorably, as it deserves to be, and so that in enjoying it, you may reflect inwardly on what end you truly intend to come to.

Do you still want to remain in servitude to such a Master? Is it not time that you turn your ear to your Bridegroom, Christ, who has suffered so much—more than any faithful lover—for your sake? Shall he have endured in vain the pains he took for you? Shall he have loved you for nothing? Will you not take note of the precious and unique jewels that he himself (if you have the heart to understand) sends you as tokens of marriage fidelity? For this is how he handles the matter—through his friends and his own, with his Holy Spirit pursuing the cause.

Do you prefer the servile fear of your vindictive Masters over the generous love of your kind Bridegroom? Do you more desire to be trapped in a place where you are reproached for offending the Court, rather than in the joyful company of the One who longs for you so? Do you prize more the confused cries and noisy ramblings of scatterbrains than the pleasant words and conversation of your friend? Do you prefer the shadows and cloistered darkness (where you are forced to keep silence, whether you will or not) over the splendid tabernacles and delightful palaces of this One? Do you crave more the scraps and filthy leftovers and secret sippings under your Masters than the abundant and delicious table of your rich Bridegroom? Will you not give Him your love and your faith? What are you waiting for? Will you not trust in Him?

Is there not enough good in His Father’s house to provide for you? Are you afraid He might deceive you—He in whom is no deceit or malice? Do you doubt He will treat you well—He who is so gentle and so good-natured? Are you worried He might not want to love you—He who is lovesick for you? Do you suspect He would abandon you—He who is so jealous and faithful? Do you doubt He can help you—He to whom all power has been given over all things? Are you afraid He will let you be trampled—He who has already exposed Himself to death for you? Do you think He would let you die—He who gives eternal life? Are you afraid He would ever leave you a widow—He who lives forever?

Then do not delay in uniting yourself to the Son of the King, however poor a little one you may be—since He desires you for His Bride. Do not consider your smallness, since He does not regard His own highness in this. If He is pleased to show you grace, would you resist through ingratitude? It pleases Him to choose lowly things in order to shame and bring down the lofty.

If He were to seek a match for Himself according to His own rank and dignity, where would He find it? And yet it pleases Him to choose you—you who are nothing—in order to make you more than those who think themselves something. You are a slave—He will set you free. You are torn and naked—He will clothe you. You are despised—He will exalt you.

Do not care for these things. Forget only your own people and the house of the one you considered your father—and that treacherous mistress whom you have so long called your mother. Leave your Masters. Take your leave of them. And do so with good reason: that it is time for you to do the will of Christ, your friend and Bridegroom, who is calling you, and for whom you should not miss the grace and opportunity to find your true good by running after the work of others.

Leave them all your wages and whatever you may have earned or merited with them according to their accounting and terms. For your Bridegroom has no need of such goods, and He does not want you to bring to Him your bundle of old rags and tatters that you have gathered in the service of those Masters, to mix with His precious, pure, and clean riches—for you would dishonor Him.

It is truly the case that, from your side, you could not offer Him anything in gains that is of value. But what would you do? Come boldly, with all the bravest and most beautiful of your court—those who are all made an abomination for Christ, not for wicked deeds. Their titles are as follows: Injured, Blamed, Hunted, Denounced, Renounced, Abandoned, Excommunicated, Anathema, Confiscated, Imprisoned, in Gehenna, Banned, Scaffolded, Mitred, Disgraced, Smeared, Crushed, Tormented, Withered, Dragged, Burnt, Roasted, Stoned, Burned, Drowned, Decapitated, Dismembered, and other such glorious and magnificent titles of the Kingdom of Heaven. He holds none of them in disdain, He who is the opposite of other Princes and Kings, who will accept no one to their court and service unless they are noble, well-dressed, wealthy, healthy, and in good condition. But He wants them as He Himself was in this world, and He kindly calls them to relieve them, to grant them new riches, to advance them, to elevate them, and to make them triumph with Him in His celestial court.

Now then, O noble and worthy Church, happy bride of the Son of the King, accept and receive this Word, Promise, and Testament, which you have here written, word for word, and nowhere else, where you will be able to see the will of Christ, your Bridegroom, and of God, His Father, by which you shall govern your family. Thus, you will be called the most beloved, in the place where it seemed that you were nothing to Him.

To make a further preface beyond what the title and face of the book bear (as this arrogant Custom required) I believe would not only be superfluous labor but also rashness, for the name of the one who speaks here, who seeks to be heard and made known, is of such authority that there is no ear that should not be attentive to hear the true and living word of His eternal and unchanging will, by which all things consist. He does not wish to make it heard by the ears of our hearts, and to have it dwell in us, so that instead of our own wicked and depraved will, we may find in it His Holy and Infallible will, which may keep you, poor little Church, in His grace.

—From the Alps, this 7th of February 1535

Ne craignez point petit troupeau, car il a plu il a plu à votre père de vous donner le royaume. Luc 12

[Fear not, little flock; for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom. Luke 12:32 (KJV)]

In God, all.

I would have written to you more fully, but you see here the distress I am in, both with paper and other things.