IN HIS ESSAY “Politics and the English Language”, George Orwell memorably rewrote a verse from Ecclesiastes in a dispiritingly familiar type of modern English. No longer did “time and chance happeneth” to all men; instead, “a considerable element of the unpredictable must invariably be taken into account”.

Suddenly it is no longer funny. A slim volume entitled The 100-Minute Bible was launched this week at Canterbury Cathedral. Intended for those interested in Christianity but lacking the stamina and application to read the Bible, it “picks out the principle (sic) stories of the life and ministry of its central character, Jesus Christ”.

Its author, a retired priest and headmaster, defends his handiwork as a “gateway” to the Bible. On the evidence so far presented, he is wrong. The problem is not that he has abridged the Bible — the very creation of Scripture required the editorial judgment of its redactors — but that he has attenuated it.

The English Bible, in the Authorised Version, is among the noblest expressions of the language. Its power lies in its directness. So far from being couched in archaic and impenetrable language, the King James Bible uses short and unambiguous words. Its poetic quality lies not in ornamentation but in rhythm.

Few of these qualities are left in modern English translations of the Bible, but at least the possibility remains of comparing those versions, verse by verse, with the cadences of the Authorised Version. The 100-Minute Bible lacks that redeeming characteristic of even the most enervating of modern translations.

It is not a translation but an attempt to render Christian doctrine and biblical narrative simply and succinctly. Its failure was almost certain, and is already obvious. The Prodigal Son might be any carouser: “His father arranged a huge party for him on his return.” The Revelation of St John the Divine appears to have been borrowed from Star Wars: “All this was part of a cosmic struggle between the forces of good and evil.”

The 100-Minute Bible takes a sacramental language and renders it banal. Christians may squander their scriptural or liturgical inheritance as they wish. But when they demean a work of beauty and dignity that has shaped English history and literature as no other book, they invite retribution.