Threads from Henry's Web

Category: Bible Study Method

  • Book Notes: Linguistics for Students of New Testament Greek

    linguistics for greekI try not to call what I do here “reviewing” as I don’t really try to provide an academic review. In fact, I might do better to call these “Ramblings after Reading.” In the case of this book I need to provide an additional caveat. Dave Black is a friend, and I publish several books by him (The Jesus Paradigm, Christian Archy, Why Four Gospels?, Will You Join the Cause of Global Missions?, and The Authorship of Hebrews: The Case for Paul). Since I own the company and have named myself chief editor, the fact that I’ve published that many titles by one author should indicate that I like his work. So don’t get the idea that you’re about to read a scholarly review by an impartial reviewer.

    Probably more important than that, however, is the reason I read this book in the first place. I have long believed that we might do the church a favor if, rather than one semester (or even quarter) of a biblical language, we gave them one quarter of introductory linguistics. This is not because I don’t believe in the value of biblical languages for biblical teaching and preaching. Quite the contrary!

    The problem is that there are many people using Greek or Hebrew in the pulpit, their Sunday School classes, small groups, etc. who don’t actually know enough of the language to support the use their making of it. I have come to the place where I tell those I can to beware. If a pastor or teacher says something like “What the Greek really says here is …” you’re about to be misinformed.

    There are teachers and preachers who do have a solid knowledge of the languages and use them in their study. They’re not that likely to say “what the Greek really says” when they introduce their discussion of a Greek word or phrase.

    Generally those who do that read the answer in a commentary or other study resource, and often they lacked even the skill to correctly interpret the commentary. In addition, the commentary itself may well have been wrong. I know it’s shocking, but even PhD’s whose books go through a serious editorial process can make mistakes.

    There has been a great deal of effort put into correcting some of the most common errors, and so we have lists of exegetical fallacies, such as D. A. Carson’s aptly named book Exegetical Fallacies. I’ve even published one (via my company Energion Publications) titled “In the Original Text It Says …” which provides examples of some fallacies and suggests how to avoid them.

    These tools are useful, but they only deal with the problem partially. Exegetical fallacies are committed because they often appear to work. Etymology often does point one to meaning, and thus one may become convinced, or just lazily assume, that etymology determines meaning. From valid observation to fallacy may not take that many steps.

    There is no real substitute for some understanding of how language works, and to get that understanding you need to do more than learn the vocabulary of a foreign language. I don’t teach Greek or Hebrew regularly, but from time to time I’ll have a few students in the church who want to learn. I try to introduce some linguistics right from the start. I tell them I hope that they’ll keep going with their study of the language until they can use it regularly, easily, and fruitfully in study. But if they don’t, I hope they will at least remember a bit of how languages are put together. If you’re wondering whether I’m qualified to comment, you can discover how I pat myself on the back via footnote 1.1

    So having outlined my view of the problem(s), what about the book?

    I wish every person who was going to study the Bible using the original languages would read this book. I’ll concede the possibility of getting the same knowledge elsewhere, but it would be difficult, I think, to find a book that both sticks with the basics with such rigor, and then applies them so well to the problems of translation and exegesis. Both of those issues were problems for me in my study. I recall being told that “Greek doesn’t have syntax,” an obviously silly statement, and having to discover the details of syntax as I went through those later courses. We didn’t have a good text. I did read other texts, such as Barr’s The Semantics of Biblical Language (a more recent and less widely accepted book in those days!) but getting down to what it meant for me was harder.

    Even though I have read a number of the works Dave Black cites or suggests for further reading, I still found this book helpful, because it helps provide a framework and make sure one hasn’t missed niggling details that will catch up with one later. You can find more detailed information on every topic (Dave provides a suggested list at the end of each chapter), but you will do well to get some landmarks by reading the chapters first. I’m reminded of one of my professors who said he’d like to see an introductory style course in Old Testament and New Testament given at the end, rather than the beginning, of one’s Bible study, because of the value of tying things together and drawing connections. I fully agree! Many people know quite a number of details, but fail to understand how these details fit into a bigger picture.

    So what does this book cover?

    It starts by introducing linguistics. This is valuable again in setting the boundaries. There are those who think I am a linguist because I have learned a number of languages. Not so! Linguistics is a field of study with many subfields, some of which will become topics for later chapters. (One will get a helpful idea of what is to come if one reads the preface, but that may be too much to ask! In particular, “read not consulted”–this book is an introduction, not a reference.)

    Following this are chapters on phonology, morphology, and then syntax. The latter is greatly neglected in biblical languages courses of which I am aware. If the teacher can force the students through enough vocabulary and basic morphology, perhaps that is all that can be expected with the limited time. A particular strength of this chapter is the presentation of the basics of immediate constituent analysis and later of transformations. Both of these concepts can look very difficult, but they are basic to being able to understand. We do some of this when we outline, but few people have the patience for that. Never fear! Dave will show you how.

    Chapter 5, “Semantics: Determining Meaning,” however, is the core of this presentation. Don’t imagine you can just jump to it, but a great deal centers on the concepts presented here. You’ll learn about etymology (what it’s good for and what it’s not), the difference between word and concept, semantic range, polysemy, synonymy (and many others) and why those terms are important. I find myself over-using the term “semantic range” and several paragraphs in this chapter helped me come up with some better ways of expressing the necessary concepts in less time and less technical language.

    Chapter 6 is a very nice introduction to the history of the Greek language. You’ll find such an introduction in most grammars, but those chapters won’t be this detailed, and they won’t give you the practical applications. After you read this chapter you should know why understanding how language develops is important to both language student and exegete.

    I’m glad that the final chapter, “Discourse Analysis” was added to the second edition. I was fortunate to have teachers who got me started in this areas, though the field has developed some since I was a student. My personal observation is that the thing that prevents people from doing more discourse analysis is that it seems to be too much work. Unfortunately, you can’t reap the benefits until you have done all that work, so you don’t realize what the rewards are.

    Well, follow Dave through Philippians. See how discourse analysis can shed light on many pesky questions regarding that letter. You can agree or disagree on details, but you will be much better prepared to understand any particular verse.

    May I also appeal to students at this point to learn how to do this for yourself. Don’t just depend on someone else who has done the work. It is absolutely helpful and a good idea to look at what others have done. But too many people get the meaning of the Bible from the outlines, headings, and notes provided in their study Bibles. You may come to the conclusion that the book is structured precisely as it was in the outline provided. But once you’ve done the work to determine that, I think you’ll feel that the time spent was truly worth it.

    This book requires some knowledge of Greek. Dave mentions advanced students. To some extent he is right. I’d suggest it after you have a good facility with the language. I would also recommend that teachers study it so as to get an idea of how to present this material to students. Many of these concepts can be presented earlier in class, preparing the ground for more serious study later.

    In other words, I think this is an excellent book. I would rate it 5 stars, and I believe it can be useful to a broader audience than the one intended by the author, because there is always value in a book that applies important concepts to actual problems.


    1. Do I have any business making these kinds of criticisms? After all, I’m a publisher with just an MA degree. Quite true. Yet I’d say one should question my knowledge more when I set out to talk about theology than about languages. My undergraduate degree was in biblical languages, including four years of Greek and three of Hebrew (actually I bypassed first year Hebrew through personal study). I also took a class in textual criticism at the undergraduate level, along with a minor in French. That minor language, along with growing up overseas (four years in Mexico as a child) gave me a different perspective on language as well. We sometimes get a distorted view of Greek and Hebrew because we’re trying to make them fit a preconceived agenda. Studying a language without that religious baggage can be a big help. I often refer to Max Knight’s translation of Christian Morgenstern’s Galgenlieder as an excellent example of the difficulties of translation, expertly overcome. Incidentally, I received a copy of those poems from my undergraduate German teacher, who knew my interest in translation and wanted me to learn from them. I am eternally grateful to him.

    I followed this with an MA in religion, again concentrating in biblical and cognate languages. So unlike many seminarians, I came to my MA ready to make use of the expertise of professors rather than needing to work on the basics, and I also spent all my time on the languages. At the same time, I spent hardly any time on issues of theology, and none at all on things like church administration, church history (I completed a church history requirement by taking patristic Latin!), counseling, homiletics, and so forth.

    Then I took one quarter in another master’s program in linguistics one I did not complete for a number of reasons. Since then I have continued my reading in this area.

  • The Numerous Authorship Proposals for Hebrews

    I was reading this morning from the introduction to Moffatt’s commentary on Hebrews in the International Critical Commentary (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, Ltd, 1979), and found an interesting quote on the variety of proposals for the authorship of the book.

    Few characters mentioned in the NT have escaped the attention of those who have desired in later days to identify the author of Pros Hebraious. Apollos, Peter, Philip, Silvanus, and even Prisca have been suggested, besides Aristion, the alleged author of Mk 169-20. I have summarized these views elsewhere (Introd. to Lit. of NT., pp. 438-442), and it is superfluous here to discuss hypotheses which are in the main due to an irrepressible desire to construct NT romances. Perhaps our modern pride resents being baffled by an ancient document, but it is better to admit that we are not yet wiser on this matter than Origen was, seventeen centuries ago. … (p. xx, transliteration mine)

    I would note in passing a different view in a book I recently published, The Authorship of Hebrews: The Case for Paul (Gonzalez, FL: Energion, 2013), p. 25-26, as well as in the appendix where Dave Black provides his own translation of Origen’s comments. Moffatt quotes these in full in Greek, providing sufficient context to judge.

    My point here is not to argue for a particular author. In fact, I’ve been agnostic on the subject of authorship since the first time I studied it. While I feel that Dave Black has provided the strongest argument for Pauline authorship possible within limited space, I have not yet been moved from “possible” to “reasonably certain.”

    But other hypotheses strike me much as they apparently struck Moffatt. There is simply too little information available to make such hypotheses seem more certain than “not absolutely excluded.” The study of internal evidence requires some literature to use in comparison, and other than Luke, we don’t have that much (if any) from any of the proposed authors. If Paul and Paul with Luke as amanuensis are excluded, there simply isn’t enough material available to produce a serious study.

    I wrote about the problems of evidence back in 2007 when reviewing (or writing notes on) Ruth Hoppin’s book Priscilla’s Letter. While the process of editing and publishing Dave Black’s book has provided a better basis for the claim of Pauline authorship, I would still stand by almost everything I wrote at that time.

  • Mark Alluding to Judges, and a New Blog

    David Lincicum, “University Lecturer in the Faculty of Theology and Religion, and Caird Fellow in Theology at Mansfield College, Oxford” (About), has a new blog. Well, new to me. It’s been around for several months. It looks interesting.

    Today he posted on a possible allusion (my term) to Judges in Mark in his post Trees Like People Walking. I see what he’s saying, and I see the connection, though it would be very hard to prove such an idea. He notes the difference in terminology between the LXX and the story in Mark, but if what we have is just a reference to the idea of the story, that vocabulary wouldn’t matter.

    So it becomes something of a look into the mind of the author. Nonetheless, in the context, it makes sense to me. That may not mean much. I was accused way back when I was working on my MA with being obsessed with parallels. Nobody said “parallelomania,” but I suspect some of them thought it. Or maybe Sandmel’s term hadn’t gotten wide enough circulation at that point in time.

    In any case, check it out. What do you think?

  • Aim It at Yourself First

    One of the key things I say in teaching Bible study is: “Aim it at yourself first.”

    Now that’s a hard one to follow, and it doesn’t mean one can never discover what a text means for someone else. Rather, it’s a focus. I need to look at what I need to change. You need to look at what you need to change. But, of course, with the second sentence, I’m aiming it at you!

    Nonetheless, if I look at myself first, I think I will tend to be less judgmental.

    This focus is also important in the participatory Bible study method for which this blog is named. In fact, there is little new in Bible study, and little new in the method except for the emphasis on sharing. I imagine some wonder how “sharing” has to do with aiming it at yourself first. That’s because many of us are used to hearing the word “sharing” with reference to telling other people what we know.

    But sharing can and should be much more than that, not to mention less of that. Sharing is a form of accountability. Academics are acquainted with this type of sharing. One of the things I miss from graduate school is how easy it was to find someone who was studying a similar subject to mine. I could then present them with some idea I had, and they’d tear it apart. As a result, I’d be able to refine, or possibly discard my idea before wasting too much time.

    People outside of academic circles come up with ideas all the time from their Bible study. Sometimes they just dismiss them, assuming they can’t possibly know something the author of their Sunday School literature didn’t know. Other times, they build up a list of eccentric ideas that haven’t been tested.

    You can avoid either of these results by sharing. That means talking to other people about your ideas and listening to what they say. It means finding people who are not in your inner circle, who might think very differently, and hearing their point of view. Listening doesn’t mean you accept everything you hear. It just means you hear it, take the time to understand it, and then evaluate it, and your own ideas in light of it.

    Now for a link. Pete Enns posted today on the difference between a spiritual journey and a religious journey. He’s talking about just one key, but I think he has an excellent point. I think you’ll see how it relates. His title is Losing My Religion (At Least That’s the Plan).

  • Duped on Ekklesia?

    On God Directed Deviations Miguel posts You’ve Been Duped! Ekklesia Does Not Mean “Called Out Ones.” He quite justifiably identifies the etymological fallacy.

    But in the comments, some folks are not so sure and don’t really see the issue. I can see why they don’t see it. As I’ve pointed out before, there’s a reason the etymological fallacy is so common. It often works. That is, words that relate in form often do relate in meaning. Compound words often do reflect their individual components in the meaning of the compound form.

    So it’s not a fallacy to define a word in a way that reflects its etymology. It’s a fallacy to define a word in that way because of that etymology alone. Having worked with reading Ugaritic, as well as several other Semitic languages from the ancient near east, I often used etymology. But that was just a starting point on a word that was obscure. The context rules in terms of the definition of the word.

    So how might the issue of translating ekklesia as “called out ones” be important?

    First let me note that there is a sense of “called out” in the definition of ekklesia. An assembly generally consists of people called out from amongst others who were not so called. I can feel that possibility in the various definitions. I suspect that might be how the word came to mean “assembly,” though I haven’t done enough research to be certain.

    So if the word developed historically from a sense of being called out (classified as a guess right now), why not use “called out ones” as the definition today? Simply because that gives an incorrect emphasis. That is not the main sense of ekklesia as it is used in our literature. In general, I believe the sense of “called out” is only present in a limited sense. The key is in the gathering together, not in being called.

    So even if we can see a sense of the assembly being called out (and I can), we need to focus on the gathering, and build the actual definition from the usage of the word.

    The etymological fallacy is very attractive precisely because it is sometimes right and often partially right. The partially right cases cause the most problems.

     

  • How to Dig into a Bible Clause

    … fully demonstrated by Jacob Cerone at ἐνθύμησις (Jonah 1:4c). Just the one clause!

    Bravo! Write more!

     

  • Let’s Get Critical

    It’s amazing to me how frequently we are do biblical criticism, but are not sufficiently critical in evaluating the results.

    Now don’t take this as the complaint of someone who is afraid that biblical criticism will undermine the scriptures. I think the Bible can handle it. It’s not that I don’t think there will be issues. I just don’t think those issues are what the story is about, but that’s another post. I believe that we Christians can benefit from hearing the views of non-Christians about the meaning of our religious texts as well.

    But it’s rather simply to find the holes in an existing theory, and much more difficult to build and defend a new one. The argument often becomes one of making a false dichotomy.

    Take, for example, the authorship of the Pentateuch. I’m fairly thoroughly convinced by the nature of the text itself that the first five books of the Bible were not written by one man at one time, or even during one time period. I find the evidence for this quite convincing. Now I lean strongly toward a version of the documentary hypothesis, though my dating of the sources would be unorthodox. But I am much less certain of my beliefs about how the Pentateuch came to be than I am that it was not written by one person at one time.

    Now I’ve heard the false dichotomy handled from both directions. Someone pokes a few holes in the documentary hypothesis—and heaven know there are holes to be poked—and then expects that one accept the alternative, authorship by Moses at one time. On the other hand, I’ve encountered people who poke a few holes in the singular authorship by Moses—and heaven know there are holes to be poked there too!—and then assumed that one would accept the documentary hypothesis as the only alternative.

    But those are not the alternatives. One simple option is to question the sources and dates. There are plenty of options for dating the sources of the Pentateuch, if one accepts that there are sources. There are not just two alternatives.

    My point is not to argue for some particular solution, but to point out that making the positive case for a particular solution is much more difficult.

    Then we have the question of where we apply critical methodologies. Many people would have no problem considering how reliable a report of a battle from an Assyrian inscription or tablet was, but would not apply the same criteria to a story from Kings. There are Christians who would apply critical study to the Qur’an, but who would be very angry if the same methodology to the Bible. There are Muslims and Jews who find New Testament criticism very convincing, often heading straight to a minimalist or even mythicist position. But don’t go applying the same standards to the Qur’an or the Hebrew Bible. Then there are Christians who apply criticisms to evolutionary theory that no historical study, including the New Testament (resurrection anyone?) could possibly withstand.

    This is natural and human. We tend to defend the things we believe. We even tend to defend the things we want to believe. But if we are going to claim to be critical—and I think that’s a good thing to be—then we need to be critical all the time. That will mean that many of the theories that we espouse must be espoused tentatively, with the knowledge that we could be wrong, and the expectation that in many cases we will be.

    Can you apply a critical approach to the doctrines and beliefs of your own faith? Have you?

  • Your Heart Messing with How You Read Scripture

    There’s a thought provoking post by Morgan Guyton (Mercy not Sacrifice) discussing this issue. While I have some problems with the interpretations proposed when considered from an historical point of view, as Christian application of scripture, I think this is a good thing.

    We should not forget, however, that the scriptures came to violent people in violent times. What does that say about how we should interact with them? I recall recently disturbing a group of people by noting that in some cases when the Spirit of God came upon a person, that person killed a bunch of other people (Samson, Judges 15:14-17).

    We don’t want the violence to guide our lives, which is a good thing, but what happened, happened. Even if the story of Samson is fictitious, or perhaps somewhat embellished, there was a time when the people of God thought that was encouraging stuff. And for those fighting the Philistines, I doubt the lesson was, “Let’s have sympathy for the Philistines. That’s a lesson we (should) learn later.

    Though we haven’t.

     

  • Depending on Others and Understanding

    I frequently encounter people who are afraid of depending on scholars for their knowledge of the Bible. I understand this fear. One thing that got me into studying biblical languages was the desire to know for myself, without having someone else translate.

    But when I had learned the languages, I found that one had to depend, to some extent, on textual critics for the text. When I studied textual criticism (not to the extent of becoming an expert), I found that textual critics depend on people who preserve and transcribe manuscripts in many cases. It’s not possible for the individual student of the text to examine the original manuscript for every variant, though imaging is making this somewhat easier.

    But in studying the language itself, the individual student is somewhat dependent on lexicographers, on those who have researched the history of the languages and relationships between various texts, on historians, and on and on. You just can’t get away from depending on someone else’s work.

    Nonetheless, I still urge people to study for themselves, and not just accept the word of others about what a text or passage means.

    The issue here is just where one places scholars and other sources in the process of study and in deciding what one believes.

    In study groups, I’ll often ask someone: “What do you think this passage means?” Frequently, the person looks at the notes in their study Bible and reads that as the meaning. One lady took me aside and said that she was concerned. When she read the notes in her study Bible they didn’t make sense. She didn’t think the passage meant what the note said.

    I said, “How can you be sure the note is right? Maybe you are right.” Then I suggested looking at notes from other study Bibles or from commentaries to compare. They might not agree, but they would give her ideas of how people had developed their understanding. This comparison of ideas would help her develop her own view and look at the logic behind it.

    In another group I was asked to follow a particular book on Revelation in teaching the class, because the author of the book indicated that Revelation was really not that hard to understand and he had made the contents simple. He knew the key, so to speak. I had to tell them that I disagreed with the author of the suggested book at the most fundamental level, meaning that I disagreed with almost every conclusion in the book. Those conclusions I might agree with were accidental, as I came to my conclusions via different logic. But further, I had a shelf full of books on Revelation, most of which claim to have figured out the interpretation, and no two of which agreed. (I wrote a study guide to Revelation, for what it’s worth, but I don’t answer even a tiny fraction of the questions you’re likely to have. I probably just ask more!)

    My point here is that while you are dependent on scholars and other Bible students, there are useful and profitable ways of using their work, while there are also unprofitable ways. It is unprofitable to simply accept the conclusions that someone comes to about scripture, and then say that it must be so because that person is an expert. No matter what the topic, you will likely find an expert who disagrees. That’s why scholars do so much footnoting when they write for one another. Scholars check each other’s work.

    There are several ways you can use the work of others that will be profitable:

    1) Check multiple sources from multiple perspectives. Many people use only study Bibles, commentaries, handbooks, and study guides written from their own (or their church’s) theological perspectives. Branch out. Sometimes the logic will become clearer when you see how two (or more) different views are derived.

    2) Check recognized experts on topics for which you lack background. For example, if you know Greek and can look up sources in the literature, you can double check the work of lexicographers yourself. If you don’t know Greek, you’re going to be better off using standard lexical definitions (or people who do). Does this limit you? Yes, it does. I have come to the conclusion before, based on my own study, that the definitions in a lexicon were not adequate. But just because I came to that conclusion doesn’t make it so. If you can’t check my work, you should treat it with caution.

    3) Check conclusions by comparing them with other expert opinions. Don’t go straight to the conclusion. Look for the logic. Various study Bibles will confidently assert widely varying dates for a book of the Bible, but how did the writers of the notes come to those conclusions? If you only use one study Bible you will not realize how the process works.

    4) Check your own conclusions and thoughts by sharing them. Share both with peers and with those who may be able to correct you, such as pastors or teachers in the church. Listen to what they say in response. Sharing is a form of accountability. If you cannot make your view sound compelling to someone else, re-examine it carefully.

    You are dependent on experts, but you can make that an asset, rather than a liability, by making expert use of your experts!

  • Avoiding Self-Centered Hermeneutics

    Rachel Held Evans has an interesting post on the way we tend to interpret the Bible differently based on our vested interests.

    This shouldn’t be a surprise. We tend to interpret everything according to our vested interests. It’s no surprise that we do the same thing with the Bible. In churches, we tend to hear texts in ways that support our traditions. That, again, is not surprising. We are much more likely to interpret the Bible in ways that mean that we haven’t been wrong for generations.

    How do we avoid this?

    Well, I doubt we can completely avoid it. We can be aware of it. We can try to correct for it. We can do our best to examine our beliefs and our behavior openly. That’s better than not doing so. But we won’t become truly objective.

    What I have suggested, and what I try to practice, is to always read any Bible passage first looking for things that correct and convict me. Only after I’ve aimed a Bible passage at myself can I aim it at others, if then.

    Of course, I’m far from perfect. Even as I’m writing this I can think of people I wish would pay more attention to this issue.

    And so it goes …