On Etymological and Anti-Etymological Fallacies
Clayboy has an excellent post on preachers who say “What the Greek really means…” or words to that effect. I was drawn to this one because of my own experience.
My wife tells me that when we first got married she quickly got used to watching me during sermons. I need to tell you that my wife is extraordinarily observant and will catch people–especially me–trying to conceal feelings and reactions. She told me that I was very good at concealing my reaction, but she would see me get a certain fixed expression on my face whenever a preacher said “What the Greek really means …” (They rarely do it with Hebrew, but for what it’s worth, the comments on Hebrew are generally less accurate than those on Greek.)
Often the preacher is simply replacing he word in his English translation with one that is possible, though not necessarily probable, but which better supports his point. Besides the inaccuracy, I dislike the implication that someone with a couple of years of Greek can correct the work of translation committees in such an authoritative fashion.
I also, however, understand the reservations expressed by Bob MacDonald in the comments in reminding us that etymology has value. It can be useful in studying the history of words or in suggesting meanings for derived forms for which we have too few examples in the literature. Of course, the context of the word in actual used, studied as synchronically as possible, governs, but the etymology can be very useful.
I’ve encountered a few people who have heard of the etymological fallacy, and some of the very careless uses of etymology, especially in ancient near eastern studies, and have therefore determined that any use of etymology must be a fallacy. There are legitimate uses.
My suggestion to preachers and teachers has always been to use whatever skills they have in the original languages for they’re worth in preparing to teach, but to avoid making the sermon into a language lesson. There are, after all, many factors other than the structure of language in understanding a text.
I recall one professor I had in graduate school who was incredibly good at the structure and vocabulary of a language. I took readings in Biblical Aramaic from him and I value highly the time I spent in his classes. But while he could analyze the nuts and bolts better than anyone I have encountered, before or after, I would not rely on him for the exegesis of a passage. The only thing he cared about were those nuts and bolts. Which is fine–I’d build on his foundation any day.
The problem, as I see it, is that when we use the language to give a single word for “what the Greek really means” or provide a few synonyms, we imply that getting the right gloss for the word is what using Biblical languages is all about. It’s much better to learn to express the result in good English–assuming that’s the language in which we’re preaching.
Good post; my wife knows that “fixed expression” too well!
Just last week our pastor managed to appeal to both the Greek and Hebrew in his sermon. Afterwards he asked me how he did. I told him he didn’t want to know… He did though, and felt so bad about it that this week he called me on Saturday to make sure his (much more modest point about Hebrew parallelism) was accurate before preaching it. Thankfully it was!
A study of the books of the Bible in their originals greatly aids in understanding. Too bad so many people read the NIV without digging deeper into the word.
Cordon Fee calls it being “dirivation happy” – he says, as do you: don’t do it!