Do I understand Greek and Hebrew? Otherwise, how can I undertake, as every Minister does, not only to explain books which are written therein but to defend them against all opponents? Am I not at the mercy of everyone who does understand, or even pretends to understand, the original? For which way can I confute his pretense? Do I understand the language of the Old Testament? critically? at all? Can I read into English one of David’s Psalms, or even the first chapter of Genesis? Do I understand the language of the New Testament? Am I a critical master of it? Have I enough of it even to read into English the first chapter of St. Luke? If not, how many years did I spend at school? How many at the University? And what was I doing all those years? Ought not shame to cover my face?”
John Wesley, “An Address to the Clergy,” in Works X:491. (HT: The Biblical World)
I would add that I was very glad that I already had my basic biblical languages at the undergraduate level, because that meant I was able to spend my time in graduate school doing exegesis and advanced language study. I felt that learning the basics of Greek or Hebrew from those professors would have meant wasting some of the precious time I had to learn from them.
The WP Framework theme has been upgraded and broke my child theme, which included a few hacks. The new one looks like I can do even better things with it, but it will take me some time to code. In the meantime, I’ve put most of my normal widgets back, though all in the right hand sidebar.
I will not go into the mechanics of keeping up with your Greek this summer. For this, you can refer to my book Using New Testament Greek in Ministry, published by Baker Book House. Con Campbell and a host of other Greek teachers will tell you that the use of helps such as interlinears is anathema. Do I agree? You bet I don’t! Do I really care what helps you use? I want those of you who are struggling with your Greek to employ any tool available that will keep you in the Greek text. And if you are feeling like a nobody, just remember that God specially chooses nobodies to glorify Himself. The success or failure of your Greek studies depends on the extent to which your thoughts and attitudes and habits are brought under the control of the Holy Spirit. Our constant daily priority is to submit ourselves to the Spirit’s control so that His fruit may be manifest in our lives. I am the ultimate egalitarian when it comes to languages. Greek is for everyone who has a love for Bible study. It is hoped that through our class many will be led into a deeper knowledge of God’s Word and challenged to become more obedient to the call of God on their lives — despite their struggles and failings. Being able to read your Greek New Testament is one of the most joyous and rewarding activities possible, and I have labored diligently to equip you for this task. I make no pretense of having successfully accomplished this. But I have tried. Ultimately, however, the work is God’s. Now let us trust Him to accomplish it!
Dave already linked to my own previous post on this topic, so I hardly need to add anything.
But I will anyhow!
The key problem I find amongst pastors and teachers who are not in an academic environment is not that they lack skill discovering lexical forms (though they generally do), but rather that they don’t have enough exposure to Greek text to provide context and background to their study, or more precisely, they take so look piecing together individual Greek words, that they can’t really study the passage.
The best solution to this, in my opinion, is to read quantities of Greek. Large quantities. Reader’s lexicons and interlinears make that possible. Don’t neglect digging in and learning the nuts and bolts. But if you’re already used to the sound and feel, you’re going to find it easier to practice the details.
Even though I always get in trouble on this, I must recommend both memorization and reading aloud. One of my own methods for keeping my Greek fresh is to read passages aloud and record myself doing so. I then put them on CDs which I have in the car. Right now I have Philippians, 1 John, and the first 8 chapters of Romans. I started doing this when I was teaching and noticed that my pronunciation was not as fluid as it once had been. I have been quite horrified to hear some of my “slips of the tongue” when listening to myself, but things have gotten better as I put this into practice.
Besides, if you want your spirits lifted, there’s nothing quite like the text of Philippians to listen to as you drive!
Across the front cover of my book What’s in a Version? I placed the slogan that forms the title of this post. You might think it’s a strange thing to put on the cover of a book. I’ve used it in class as well. I’ve received more criticism for that one line than for anything else in the book.
I’m in the process of revising the book (though it’s still available), but that one line is something that will not change. Yes, it’s a one-liner, and thus subject to a variety of interpretations. No, I don’t believe that anything that might masquerade as a translation actually is a translation. But there are very few things that I would say masquerade as translations, and there are many people who want to prescribe the Bible you should read.
There are some facts regarding reading a piece of ancient literature. First, I didn’t live in the first century, when the New Testament was being written. I’m at least at one remove, because no matter how much I study Greek, I will never truly understand it in the same context and world as Paul did. Second, if you’re reading in translation, you’re not reading the original. This leads to my third point: Something is always lost in translation.
But that means that something is always present in translation as well. The question is just what you’re looking for. For example, I prefer the more formal style of the Revised English Bible. I even like its Anglicisms. I spent much of my teens in a former British colony (Guyana), and I was born in Canada. Those things are comfortable for me and they give me a familiar feel.
Should I therefore recommend that everyone read the REB? Hardly! For others, features that make it work for me may be a hindrance to understanding. Then there’s the question of just what it is that I want to understand, or more importantly that you want to understand.
What seems to escape so many people who prescribe what a translation must and must not do is that it matters not what is there if the reader doesn’t understand. Admonitions to “get a dictionary” are both pointless, and in my opinion, arrogant. This kind of talk suggests to people that if they would just put in enough work, they’d be able to understand–well–what the talker believes they should want to understand. Maybe I’d prefer the clarity of the CEV of Jeremiah 22:29 to a translation that conveys the epizeuxis. It’s possible that I couldn’t care less about an epizeuxis. In point of fact, I care about the epizeuxis largely so that I can convey it’s meaning in another fashion. At the same time, I do not regard my particular aim as normative. If you want to convey the epizeuxis, by all means do so. It’s not better or worse, it just is what it is.
This lack of concern for the readers–though I’m sure it’s advocates think they are advocates for the spiritual and intellectual well-being of their hearers or readers–is what I like to call the problem of the one-ended telephone cord.
So I frequently frustrate inquirers who want me to recommend a Bible version. I always ask what they want to do with it, and to a great extent I want to know who they are before I will even attempt an answer, and then I’m going to leave it quite open-ended–what do you want? what do you read?
Oh, and credit where credit is due. I was finally tipped to the point of writing this by a post from Kurk at Aristotle’s Feminist Subject, which is well worth reading. I’d also like to reference my Bible Translation Selection Tool, which tries to list Bibles in priority order according to preferences expressed by the user. I’ve been told both that this is much too complicated and also that it can’t be personalized enough, but thus far I haven’t had time to fix either problem, nor do I know that I could fix them both at once.
From the forthcoming study guide to Philippians (from my company, Energion Publications), in commenting on Philippians 1:27-30:
Even now in our time, we can take confidence in Paul’s assertion that God is with us and that, in life and death, and celebration and persecution, Christ sustains us. We are resurrection people. But, our lives are also cruciform or cross-shaped. The Risen Jesus is known initially by his wounds, and we too may experience suffering and loss as a result of our relationship with Christ. Still, at the end of the day, integrity, fidelity, and the promise of resurrection life far outweigh any trials of this lifetime.
(Excerpts from this forthcoming study guide are used by permission of the author as I edit the book. If you’re interested in reviewing this book, slated for a July 31 release, e-mail pubs@energion.com.)
After much of what I heard about Paul in school, which was really rather a lot, I think one of the most important things to remember when reading Paul’s letters is that they are letters, and that Paul writes pastorally. He is not writing systematic theology. On the other hand, he is writing theology. He’s just doing it in a pastoral way to address particular situations in churches or with persons.
I’m correctly working through advance copies of the forthcoming study guide to Philippians by Bruce Epperly, which will be part of the Participatory Study Series, with my Sunday School class. Now I love the book of Philippians. In fact, right now it’s one of the books I have recorded for myself in Greek on CD to listen to in my car, and it’s something I really enjoy hearing. There are so many powerful passages for daily Christian living.
If you study just Galatians, you might get the idea that Paul was contentious with very little tolerance for any sorts of differences of opinion. You’d be wrong if you did–well, he’s a bit contentious, true–but you could do so by ignoring the situation and the nature of the issues he’s addressing in that letter.
In Philippians we see another style, in which Paul can even celebrate (with some reservations) those who preach the gospel from bad motives. Let me quote Epperly on this point:
Once again, Paul trusts God to be providentially working through a variety of Christian messages. While Paul would surely fault his opponents for their lack of ecumenical hospitality, he still recognizes that their message may advance the gospel message by bringing people to an experience of the Risen Christ. Now, I must admit this is a tall order. While most of us recognize that unity does not mean uniformity, there are times when we find it difficult to affirm God’s presence in those groups whose beliefs, worship style, ethics, or experiences differ from our own. Could it be that Paul is advocating a “big tent Christianity,” large enough to embrace progressives, moderates, evangelicals, Pentecostals, and conservatives? Could it be that Paul, for whom theology is very important, nevertheless, places experiencing Christ above doctrinal differences?
Now while I might see Paul faulting these opponents for more than a lack of hospitality, I do see much of Paul in Philippians in that paragraph. The situation and the issue tends to drive the letter. Differences in Paul’s theology are generally driven by differences in the churches he’s addressing. His interest is in reaching and guiding people, rather than in expressing a systematic theology.
“Guiding people” and “expressing theology” are not opposed. Paul expresses theology in order to guide people. The pastoral view guides what theology is expressed, where and how.
There’s some controversy about contentious material in chapter three and how it relates to the generally positive and joyful tone of the letter. I see no more conflict here than I do with the belief that Paul could write both Galatians and Philippians, a view which is pretty much unchallenged. At least I know of no serious argument that Paul didn’t write both. The difference is the issues for which Paul is contending.
In other words, there are things worth contending for, and others that are not.
I’ve often said that I think people who become angry when their beliefs questioned are actually less confident of those beliefs, rather than more so. But that’s a pretty broad and inadequate statement, I think.
I was discussing this with my wife recently, and we were wondering why neither of us get annoyed with people who question our faith, when some folks we know do. In an extreme case, I recall talking to a young man at a book show who responded angrily to my book What’s in a Version?. For him, the KJV was the one and only word of God, and you could see the tension creep in at the very thought that anyone might question that fact. As the discussion progressed, it became clear that for him, faith would collapse should this one doctrinal position prove false.
In our discussion, I recalled my own departure from faith after I received my MA. I claimed unbelief, but as I processed things, I eventually (nearly 12 years later) came to the realization that I did, in fact, believe. The belief wasn’t something one would call Christian faith, and it was limited, but having shed most doctrinal positions, I found myself believing still. In exploring that, I returned to some doctrinal positions I had held previously, but not to others.
I think the question here is just what is the object of my faith. If I, like that young man, would find my world unraveling if one could prove that the KJV wasn’t the one and only true word of God, is my faith in God or in the doctrine? Now the KJV-Only position is an extreme example, and I do believe many KJV-Only advocates are guilty of bibliolatry, but it’s very easy, I think, for us to place our personal preferences, and even our correct doctrines, ahead of God.
For example, T. C. Moore suggests that the Gospel is the Messiah and not the doctrine of justification by faith (HT: Political Jesus). While I accept the doctrine of justification by faith (though not with all the definitions some Calvinists place on it), I would agree. The doctrine tells us something about the object of faith. Thus I could be convinced that I had misunderstood something about the doctrine without it making me question my faith in Jesus.
On the other hand, I want to avoid the idea that doctrine, or the content of our beliefs, doesn’t matter. What I believe about Jesus is important, at the same time as I place my faith in Jesus and not in what I believe about Him.
Let me compare this to marriage. I love my wife. I could describe this as adequate. She, and not some one of her attributes, is the object of my love. I know that she is a great organizer, a great caregiver, that she loves and prays for our children and grandchildren, and that if the budget is short she’ll give up something she wants before something that the children, grandchildren, or I would like. It’s important that I know these things about here. They’re true.
But I don’t focus on those things to the neglect of the person. I could be out every night telling people about those things, while neglecting my wife, herself. But more importantly, what happens when she displays weakness? My love doesn’t change. But if what I loved was merely a list of characteristics, it might.
The two elements are a package, but I do believe that if the focus, the object, of our faith and trust is right, we will have much less fear of examining the various things we believe about that person. There is no single string you can pull to make my faith in God disappear.
So pull away at those strands. I’ll enjoy the discussion! Maybe we’ll both learn.
Actually the headline is just hype. I’m not going to say much about them. By the time things settle down to where I think I have something to say, somebody else has already said it. I guess I’m just slow.
Even while the media has begun to take notice of serious doubts about the authenticity of the lead codices, a new story is circulating about the alleged discovery of the nails with which Jesus was crucified. I wonder if they are made of lead and have inscriptions upon them, and had earlier been used to hold Noah’s Ark together.
David Ker has written a book, and it has lots of pictures of hippos in it. Since my very favorite song is “I want a hippopotamus for Christmas,” this means that I truly adore the book. Besides, I’m only about a decade late taking notice of it.
Now I haven’t actually read the book, but I read most of the blog posts that went into it, and I enjoyed them. I have duly downloaded it so I can peruse it in an orderly fashion.
But it was the fact that Jim West called the book “gas from a hippo’s backside” that really made me go and download it. I think, however, that David Ker lied to me (horrors!) and Jim didn’t actually write all that nasty stuff about his book. So I’m truly disappointed. No, that’s not right. Make that impressed!
I always tell my authors that a truly nasty review is great for publicity. But to write one yourself, and credit it to a creatively credible culprit (not to mention creedally correct [see depravity)–that’s genius!
