Showing posts with label Greek. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Greek. Show all posts

29 September 2015

Is agapē a mystical magical word that means God's sacrificial gracious love?

by Dan Phillips

Over a month ago, I Tweeted this little hyperbolic jab:


At the time, some folks asked for me to expand on the serious, chewy center. And now, I will. Ahem.

Anyone and everyone who's tried to get serious Bible teaching has heard it. It goes something like this:
There are four Greek words for love: erōs, storgē, phileō, and agapē. They have very different meanings. Erōs means sexual love, storgē means family love, phileō means the love of friendship, and agapē means God's love, a gracious, sacrificial love. Only the Holy Spirit can give agapē.
Sometimes the folks who say these things are very dogmatic and categorical, saying things like "when reference is made to God’s LOVE, the word used is always agape" [Guy P. Duffield and Nathaniel M. Van Cleave, Foundations of Pentecostal Theology (Los Angeles, CA: L.I.F.E. Bible College, 1983), 78].

You could probably supply your own; we've all heard them. But are they true?


First, I'll say as I've said before, if you don't know Greek, I'd encourage you — in as friendly and brotherly way as possible — not to talk about what "the Greek" says, unless you're directly quoting someone who does. I don't mean to be snotty or insulting about it, or to hurt any feelings; it's just the safest way to proceed. "A man's got to know his limitations," as a sage once observed.

For instance, someone who's studied Greek will wince at the statement that there are four words for "love." There may be four Greek words that have been translated by the English word "love," but there are more than four Greek words that mean "love." Or even just staying with the list, it's a mildly fingernails-on-the-blackboard experience to hear the list erōs (a noun), storgē (also a noun), phileō (hey, wait — the noun is philiaphileō is a verb)and agapē (oh, now we're back to nouns). The speaker might as well say "I don't actually know Greek, but this is a traditional list someone started at some point."

All that may seem like inside-baseball stuff, so let's just get down to this: does it hold true that "when reference is made to God’s LOVE, the word used is always agape," and that agapē means "God's love"?

Well no, not at all. For instance, John 3:35 says "the Father loves the Son, and has given all things in His hand." The verb is a form of the verb agapaō. So far, so good. But wait a minute, look at 5:20 — "the Father loves the Son, and shows Him all things which He Himself is doing," and so forth. There, the verb is phileō. What? Two things: (1) it simply isn't true to say that "agape" is "always" used of God's love — unless you want to say that the related noun and the verb are unrelated (?!); and (2) agapaō and phileō are not like two distant continents, utterly dissimilar from each other in meaning.

While it is true that agapē and agapaō are the words characteristically used of God's love, it is not true that the terms themselves have as their own inherent meaning "God's love," or even "God's kind of love." For instance, if we consult uses in the Greek translation of the Old Testament, which was current in our Lord's day, we find the verb used of Shechem's "love" for Dinah (Gen. 34:2). Ew. It also describes Samson's "love" for Delilah (Judges 16:4), Amnon's "love" for Tamar (2 Sam. 13:1, 4; again, ew), and Solomon's "love" for the pagan women who led him away from Yahweh (1 Kings 11:2). That's just a sampler.

Then in the NT, the verb is used of tax collectors' love for those who love them (Mt. 5:46; cf. Lk. 6:32), Pharisees' "love" for the first seats (Lk. 11:43), the "love" of the lost for darkness rather than light (Jn. 3:19), the Jewish leaders' "love" for human praise over God's glory (Jn. 12:43), Demas' "love" for the present age (2 Tim. 4:10), forbidden "love" for the world (1 Jn. 2:15), and so forth.

That's just the verb. The noun is also used of Amnon's sick infatuation with Tamar (2 Sam. 13:15). In the NT, however, the noun is used more exclusively of God's love or ours. But so are forms of phileō, alone or in combination. The verb phileō is used of the love we must have for Jesus in 1 Cor. 16:22. God's saving love for man is called philanthrōpia in Titus 3:4, shortly after which Paul refers to those who "love" him and his coworkers in the faith (3:15, using a form of phileō). Jesus' love for Lazarus is described with phileō in John 11:3 and 36; but His love for Lazarus and Mary and Martha is described with agapaō in v. 5.

I could go on, but I hope I've established: the verb agapaō is not a magic word used exclusively to describe God's love. It does not, all by itself, mean God's love, nor is it the only word used to describe God's love, nor does it necessarily describe God's kind of gracious, chaste, sacrificial love.

Having said that, I will say this, which may for a brief second seem contradictory, so stay with me: the agapē-words are the ones the Greek writers most readily reach for to describe God's love (shown and mandated), and they best serve those uses.

Let me illustrate by a question: Does the word "devotion" mean "a mother's committed, dogged, tireless, self-sacrificial love for her child"?

No, of course it doesn't. We could also speak of a drunk's devotion to the bottle, or a druggie's devotion to his crack-pipe, or a terrorist's devotion to his jihad, or a pagan's devotion to his false god (—did I just say the same thing, twice?). The word does not inherently mean "a mother's committed, dogged, tireless, self-sacrificial love for her child."

However, if you want to describe that kind of love, you may well reach for the word "devotion." Because it serves well in that use. You'll just have to check the context.

And so it is with the Greek words translated love. I don't think any two of them are completely synonymous in the sense that they are completely interchangeable. But you really get the meaning by examining the use.

So with agapē and (please!) philia. We know about God's love, not by reading a study bible or a word-study or a lexicon, but by studying passages using and illustrating the term's meaning, such as Romans 5:6-8 or Ephesians 2:4.

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24 June 2014

To be or..to become: when translators should try harder (John 1:1, 6)

by Dan Phillips

Last week I discussed an instance where the ESV used two different words to translate the same Hebrew verb in two consecutive verses, unintentionally obscuring a significant point of interpretation. There are cases where the reverse happens. One such is John 1:1 and 6.

Everyone knows verse 1, which doesn't warrant much creativity from a translator: "In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God." That word "was" crops right up again in the ESV of verses 2, 3, and verse 6.
In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. 2 He was in the beginning with God. 3 All things were made through him, and without him was not any thing made that was made. 4 In him was life, and the life was the light of men. 5 The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it. 6 There was a man sent from God, whose name was John.
"Was," "was," "was." Of course, verse 3 doesn't count since "was" there is just an auxiliary verb ("was made"). But the English-only reader is left to assume that every other occurrence of "was" must either translate the same verb, or that there is no exegetically-significant variation. Both would be incorrect assumptions.


In verses 1 and 4, the verb is ἦν (ēn), which is the imperfect active indicative of eimi, the common copula (I am). At this point, novices have sometimes waxed a bit imaginative, noting that the imperfect means continual action, so John is saying that the Logos continually was at creation.

Theologically, this is of course accurate. Etymologically, not so much. It might be, if a simple past (aorist) finite form of eimi were available to John. None was. Just the present (estin, is) and the imperfect (ēn, was). John could not have used that verb to say that Jesus "was," in the aorist tense, if he'd wanted to. (To oversimplify, aorist serves for punctiliar past events, with no emphasis on process: he ate, she sat, he built.)

But what of verse 6? According to the ESV, it's the same: in the beginning was the Word (v. 1), there was a man sent from God named John. The Word was, John was. No point is being made.

However, John (not the ESV) used two different words. Verse 6 employs the aorist tense of the verb ginomai, meaning simply "I become." It indicates beginning to be... something. Becoming something. Springing up on the pages of history.

In practice, one can't translate ginomai with forms of "become" every time, and I'm not arguing that we should. However, here it's pretty clear that John is making a point by using two verbs — ēn, ēn, ēn, ēn, ēn, ēn ...then egeneto. He introduces two characters in his opening verses: the Logos, and John. One had a beginning, one was at the beginning. The contrast between the two is, very literally, infinite.


So why not at least note the fact in translation? Sometimes, it is simply impossible to reflect nuances of Hebrew and Greek in English. Here? Not at all. Many translations make some try, such as "came" (NASB, NET, ASV, NJB), and "arose" (Rotherham). You could say "A man came to be; his name: John." But the ESV is not alone in apparently not even trying: "was" is found in ESV, NIV, CSB, KJV, and NKJV.

I can't even speculate about what moves translators to do or not do many things. It just seems like it's most respectful of the text to try to note both similarities and differences in the original text when one can. John could have used a sixth ēn, but chose to use egeneto instead. If we can reflect his word-choice, I think we should.

And here, we can.

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23 April 2013

What in the "world"?

by Dan Phillips

In my review of the new EEC volume on the letters of John, I remarked on the author's selective lack of curiosity as to John's meaning in using "world" (kosmos) in 1 John 2:2. I noted that Derickson was forced to admit and consider other senses in later passages, though he had treated 2:2 as if the term could only be univocal, and only naked and baseless dogmatism could ever move one to another view.

My aim here is not to solve the difficulties in understanding 1 John 2:2 (on which I've shared a thought or two in the past). Rather, it is to open some minds — pause, to allow gales of laughter and tear-wiping to die down — of those who imagine that Bible readers who affirm Scripture's teachings about God's sovereignty in grace (i.e. "Calvinists") simply make up the notion that "world" could ever mean anything other than "every last man, woman and child who ever has been born or ever will be born."

I'd just like to observe that it is not only impossible to imagine that the word always has that meaning — it is, in fact, questionable whether it ever has that meaning.

My favorite example is John 1:10, which saith: "He was in the world, and the world was made through him, yet the world did not know him."

Can we say, "World just means world," and be saying anything meaningful about that passage?

That is, is John really saying, "In the incarnation, the Logos was in the presence of every last man, woman and child who ever has been born or ever will be born, and every last man, woman and child who ever has been born or ever will be born was made through him, yet every last man, woman and child who ever has been born or ever will be born did not know him"?

Unlikely.

Rather, is not John saying "Jesus came to be in the society of mankind [Sense 1], and though the entire physical universe [Sense 2] had been made through him [cf. v. 3], yet the anti-God Satanic system within it [Sense 3] did not know him"? If so, then, do we not have three senses of the same word, kosmos, in a single verse?

Or how about John 3:17, the verse after the Arminians' favorite (imagined) trump-card verse? It reads, "For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him." Again, a threefold use of kosmos. Does John really mean, "For God did not send his Son in the Incarnation to every last man, woman and child who ever has been born or ever will be born to condemn every last man, woman and child who ever has been born or ever will be born but in order that every last man, woman and child who ever has been born or ever will be born will be saved through him"? If so, how come most of the world never got a glimpse of Jesus or heard a word He said (and still haven't), and how come so many people are in fact and will in fact remain lost?


Or take 1 John 5:19, which has virtually the same wording as 2:2 — "We know that we are from God, and the whole world lies in the power of the evil one." So, really? Is John actually saying that "every last man, woman and child who ever has been born or ever will be born lies in the power of the evil one"? What about John himself, and the believers to whom he wrote? John certainly didn't think they all lay under the power of Satan (cf. 2:13-14). As for Paul, he thought he was (and we are) "in Christ," not in the evil one.

We shall come to real misery when we try to apply this to John 17:9, where our Lord prays, "I am praying for them. I am not praying for the world but for those whom you have given me, for they are yours." Is He saying, " I am praying for them. I am not praying for every last man, woman and child who ever has been born or ever will be born but for those whom you have given me, for they are yours." But aren't "those whom you have given me" people who have been born?

I could easily go on, and on, and on and on and on. Of course, no human power can dislodge dogma from the grips of its worshipers, but one may dare to hope that all fair-minded readers will grant the one point I'm making: the word kosmos is not univocal, and it does not "just mean 'world,' period." It means different things in different contexts.

What that specific meaning is must be determined by serious exegesis, and not by bilious assertion and airy, impatient dismissal.

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27 December 2012

Book review — Devotions on the Greek New Testament, by Duvall and Verbrugge

by Dan Phillips

Devotions on the Greek New Testament
edited by J. Scott Duvall & Verlyn D. Verbrugge
(Zondervan, 2012)

I was happy to receive this review copy from Zondervan. I've been reading the Greek New Testament daily for 39 years, and there simply isn't much in the way of devotional literature specifically geared to it. I used Bitzer's work (he was a banker, in case you haven't heard), but that was about it.

Zondervan's new Devotions on the Greek New Testament is the work of many authors, ranging from names I know to be notable scholars (Craig Blomberg, Darrell L. Bock, Ben Witherington III, William Mounce), to names I know (Scott McKnight), to a long list of names I don't know at all, including a surprising number of female writers. This latter phenom prompted a recent forum in these-here parts.

The purpose of the book is to address the "need to know why you are studying Greek, particularly in relation to the ultimate purpose of strengthening your walk with the Lord," to "help motivate you to endure in your Greek studies" (11).

Each of the 52 entries takes a verse or portion of the Greek New Testament and comments on it. The articles come in canonical order, from Matthew to Revelation, omitting only 2 and 3 John. Unfortunately, the author's name is withheld until the end of each article; I'd have preferred to have it straight up front.

The first devotion is on Matthew 1:19, which I appreciated as I'd had a good time wrestling with it before preaching that verse some years ago. At the time, I was dissatisfied with the common translation and with many of the usual explanations, which seemed hurried to me. My own solution was to take καὶ in the sense of καίτοι, "and yet," a concessive sense. I take both participles in the same sense, yielding "being righteous, and yet not willing." That is, Joseph was in a real bind: he had a strong impression of Mary as a godly girl, yet here she was, pregnant, and he was not the father. Joseph knew the Law and its righteous requirements, and yet he mercifully did not wish to expose Mary to shame and punishment.

The writer of this article, Roy Ciampa, felt the same issues I did in the text, but his solution is different, focused on the senses of the participles. Ciampa takes both as causal, yielding something like "because he was righteous, and because he was not willing" to make a display of Mary. Ciampa takes the sense of righteous differently than I do, arguing that Jesus and the rest of the Gospel require a "transformed understanding of righteousness" involving more mercy and compassion.

I find that a less satisfying (and somewhat less coherent) solution, but am glad for Ciampa's reflections.

An article by Edward W. Klink III (41-42), on the uses of γίνομαι (ginomai) in John 1:1-18, is very insightful. Klink highlights ten instances of the root and notes their place in how the Prologue frames the entire Gospel. It is first used of God's creative power in Jesus' work of creation (v. 3), and ends with v. 17's revelation of how the Gospel is the creative power of God, bringing grace and truth to reality in Christ. It is a helpful piece.

I could wish Klink had phrased one sentence a touch more carefully: "...Jesus has now become the pinnacle of creation, the center of human history and all created things." One might misread the author as classing Christ among "all created things," as do Jehovah's Witnesses. However, Klink had affirmed that Jesus created all things (41), and had just previously said that v. 14 means that "the Creator is now with his creation" (42). So I think the problem is only in his word-choice.

Darrell Bock highlights the three kinds of conditional clauses in Greek on pp. 52-53. He illustrates a second-class condition from Lk. 7:39, where the Pharisee is framing his thought in a way that assumes Jesus must not be a prophet. Bock focuses on Galamiel's words in Acts 5:38-39, as showcasing the other two kinds of conditional clauses. Gamaliel uses first a second-class conditional in v. 38 ("if this is of men — and I'm not saying it is, nor that it isn't"). Then he employs a first-class conditional in v. 39, framing Christianity as being of God. Nifty, eh?

However, Bock says
Gamaliel would have spoken Aramaic or Hebrew, neither of which makes such fine distinctions as Greek makes in conditional clauses. In other words, Gamaliel likely presents the two options as equal. Luke, however, makes clear in his presentation that the second situation is more likely the case... Score another one for Luke. (53)
Well, yes, score one for Luke...as a propagandist. But as an accurate historian? Bock ignores the fact that he has just represented Luke as misrepresenting Gamaliel! The truth is, we do not know for certain that Gamaliel did not speak in Greek (a language in which his pupil, Saul of Tarsus, was quite adept); and even if not, there are ways of presenting this thought in any language which Luke could have accurately rephrased into Greek. Annoying.

Another contributor is Ben Witherington III, who writes on the idiom "to kick against the goads" in Acts 26:14 (56-57). His discussion of how to move the idiom into our day is witty; my one gripe is that he channels Warren Wiersbe (or William Barclay) when he says "An ancient Greek proverb depicts a horse saying to a donkey, 'Let him not keep kicking against the goads'" (57). Really? How "ancient"? Found where? Documentation? I wasn't able to find it easily with a scan of a half-dozen lexical resources. This is the sort of thing that bothers us obsessives, and seems out of place in a book written by scholars.

On Romans 1:17's expression ἐκ πίστεως, Roy E. Ciampa observes that, though both preposition and noun are in common use, no occurrence of the phrase ἐκ πίστεως occurs in any Greek literature before Hab. 2:4 LXX (58). But then in the NT, it turns up 21X. Ciampa argues that these are echoes or allusions to Hab. 2:4 which the English reader would surely miss due to varying English translations, but the Greek reader should note (58-60). This is in the best tradition of a Greek devotional.

The first disappointment is an article by Gary M. Burge on Romans 5:1 (61-63). The problem isn't that there is anything wrong with what Burge says; the problem is that what he says isn't really about the Greek text.  When I saw the text, I thought he was going to comment on πρὸς τὸν θεὸν (pros ton theon), and how "with God" means "in relationship to God" or something like "face to face with God." It wasn't. What Burge wrote about was the textual issue of reading ἔχομεν (echomen, "we have") over against ἔχωμεν (echōmen, "let us have"). Which is an issue of textual criticism, not of reading Greek per se. 

Blomberg has a creative but somewhat obnoxious article on Romans 8:28. It is creative in that it approaches the verse anecdotally, positing a grieving mother trying to make sense of the verse from KJV (boo) to NAS (boo) to NIV (yayyy...or so we're to conclude). It's theologically obnoxious in that Blomberg rejects the KJV's rendering as "just not a helpful translation." Further, he doesn't challenge the alleged impression that "all things work together for good" is somehow pantheistic, which a robustly Biblical vision of the sovereignty of God would have answered (hel-lo? Psalm 119:91?). One wonders whether he's read Hendriksen, who develops this along soundly Biblical lines.

Any Forbidden Planet fan's ears will prick up to note that one of the contributors is a KrellKeith Krell. He has a good, tight note on 1 Corinthians 3:17a (67-69), in which he argues that τὸν ναὸν τοῦ θεοῦ ("the sanctuary of God") is the local church, τοῦτον ("this one") is a believer engaging in the misconduct of the first few chapters (jealousy, worldly wisdom), and φθερεῖ ("will destroy") is some fearsome temporal judgment.

Paul Jackson has a note on 1 Cor. 6:11 (70-71), making a good point about the emphatic repetition of alla ("but") in the verse, and the work of God in salvation. However, Jackson  mphasizes the imperfect tense of ἦτε ("you were"), saying it contrasts with the aorist verbs and, since "the imperfect tense represents ongoing action in past time, then Paul is focusing on how a converted church member's lifestyle used to be" (70). This surprised me; surely Jackson knows that there is no aorist form of eimi ("I am") in the NT, so that the imperfect serves for any past time-frame. It won't bear a linear stress, by itself.

Still in 1 Cor., Michelle Lee-Barnewall contributes a chapter on πρὸς τὸ συμφέρον in 12:7 (72-74), in which she observes that τὸ συμφέρον simply means "good," but the context makes it clear that the common good is Paul's concern. Linda Belleview has a note on vv. 15-16 on pp. 75-76. Belleview notes Paul had assessed Jesus "according to the flesh," and thus assessed Him wrongly. "Jesus died a criminal's death, but the criminal in this case was everyone except Jesus." She also argues for "creature" rather than "creation" in understanding v. 17's use of κτίσις.

An insightful article on Ephesians 2 is contributed by Constantine R. Campbell (83-84), who brings out Paul's use of mirroring in the chapter. Campbell notes that the chapter divides into two halves of similar structure: 2:1-10 and vv. 11-22. The first focuses on salvation by grace, the second on the reconciliation of Jew and Gentile in Christ. Each half has a similar problem/solution/consequence structure. What's more, each half features three key terms containing the prefixed preposition συν- ("with"): συνεζωοποίησεν (v. 5), συνήγειρεν (v. 6), and συνεκάθισεν (v. 6); then συμπολῖται (v. 19), συναρμολογουμένη (v. 21), and συνοικοδομεῖσθε (v. 22).

The tone of J. R. Dodson's "One-Upmanship" chapter on Phil. 3:7-8 (94-95), is more strictly devotional, stressing the supreme value of Christ. The piece is brief and very well-written, both humorous and profound in engaging nuances of the Greek text (such as Paul's shift from ταῦτα ἥγημαι ("I have counted these things) to ἡγοῦμαι πάντα ("I continue to count all things") in v. 8.

Gary Manning Jr. has a solid, concise development on how appositional phrases such as ὁ Χριστὸς ... ἡ ζωὴ ὑμῶν ("Christ...our life") and seven uses of σὺν (standalone and in compounds) in Colossians develop the truth and meaning of our relationship with Christ (102-103). Kenneth Berding has an article identifying and explaining the meaning and purpose of the puns in Philemon (119-121).

George Guthrie contributes a condensed, well-written bit on Heb. 1:1-2a (123-125). It is another good example of a devotional that does what the book at best promises: brings meanings and significations that are visible in Greek but not in translations. Guthrie diagrams that portion, notes the opening alliteration (Πολυμερῶς καὶ πολυτρόπως πάλαι), notes that vv. 1-4 are a long single sentence and that most English versions don't express in translation the relationship between  λαλήσας ("having spoken") and ἐλάλησεν ("spoke"), which Guthrie says is communicating the circumstances of God's speaking to us in Christ. Thus the OT is preparatory for the NT, and is where God started a conversation with us.

Alan S. Bandy's contribution on Jas. 1:5-8 is helpful and once again in the best tradition of a Greek emphasis. Bandy he points out wordplay between διακρινόμενος ("doubting") and δίψυχος ("double-souled"; vv. 6, 8), and argues that ἁπλῶς ("generously") means singly, unreservedly. My only gripe would be that he cites scholars by name, but without documentation. Nothing wrong with footnotes!

Max J. Lee writes on Rev. 2:20 (143-144), and argues that ὅτι ἀφεῖς τὴν γυναῖκα Ἰεζάβελ should be translated "that you are forgiving the woman Jezebel," not "tolerating." Lee points to the main meaning of the verb, and the contextual stress (three times in vv. 21-22) on the refusal to repent. With no repentance, there should be no forgiveness; and when the church forgives the unrepentant, it fails in part of its mission. You'd think he'd be a commenter here at Pyro!

The final article on Rev. 5:7, by David L. Mathews (145-147), ends the volume yet again in the best tradition of such a book. Mathews notes something reflected in no English or Spanish version I can find: the perfect εἴληφεν ("he has taken"). Mathews makes the case for not simply handling as an aoristic perfect, and brings it to highlight how Jesus is the central Actor and worthy of our worship.

We've only seen tastes of the articles. I do commend it to all of you who read the New Testament in Greek. I made a number of entries in my BibleWorks notesDevotions on the Greek New Testament is on the whole encouraging, edifying, thought-provoking, and rewarding. Plus, it will urge you to read closely and attentively — which is always for the good!

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13 December 2011

Third thoughts about Matthew 28:19 in Greek — a command, or not?

by Dan Phillips

This post may not equally be for everyone, though I think any believer can get something from it.

For awhile I had another blog presenting occasional Greek-themed posts. It was called Hellenisti ginoskeis: do you know Greek? I simply haven't had the time to update it regularly for years, though I would like to return to it some day.

This is an edited version of an early post from February of 2007. It is aimed primarily at pastors, but I don't think it will harm anyone else... except maybe dangerous pikers. Which isn't bad, and wouldn' really be "harm," would it?

In what is popularly called the Great Commission, our Lord says:
Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit,

πορευθέντες οὖν μαθητεύσατε πάντα τὰ ἔθνη, βαπτίζοντες αὐτοὺς εἰς τὸ ὄνομα τοῦ πατρὸς καὶ τοῦ υἱοῦ καὶ τοῦ ἁγίου πνεύματος.... (Matthew 28:19)
Probably the KJV is still the most familiar rendering: "Go ye therefore, and teach all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost."

A number of facets of this translation cry out for comment, but I will focus only on one: "Go ye therefore, and teach." Clearly to the English reader's eye, there are two commands here: (1) go ye, and (2) teach. On the first of these rest countless missionary conferences and sermons.

But when you start learning Greek, you notice that the verbal form of πορευθέντες (poreuthentes) is not imperative at all, as "Go ye" would lead one to expect. Nor, in fact, is it a finite verb of any sort. It is an aorist participle, of which the primer-form translation is "having {verb}ed." So luō is "I loose," and lusas would be "having loosed," and so forth. The imperative aorist in this case would have been πορεύθητι (poreuthēti). So a woodenly literal, first-year-primer translation of the text as it stands would be, "Having gone, therefore, disciple the nations."

So you think, "Well, I'll be. So Jesus assumes the going, and solely commands the making of disciples. There is only one command, one commission. The commission isn't to go, but to disciple."

The bare grammatical observation, of course, is true. The inference, not so much. That is, the form of the verb is undeniably that of an aorist participle... but the rest does not follow. While I have taught it that way (i.e. only one command) in years past, I've come to have third thoughts about the verse.

Repeated readings of Matthew in Greek highlighted to me a facet of Matthew's style of writing. That brother loved his aorist participles! In making my own rough translation, I was constantly writing, "Having X," or "after doing X." In fact, Matthew used this exact construction many times,  but with the semantic force of "do X and Y," and not of "after doing X, do Y."

For instance, take Matthew 2:20, where the angel tells Joseph,  "Rise, take the child and his mother and go to the land of Israel, for those who sought the child's life are dead." The word translated by the command "Rise" is not grammatically an imperative, but is another aorist participle (ἐγερθεὶς, egertheis).

If one were to be as woodenly literal with this text as I once proposed regarding Matthew 28:19, he would have to render: "After you get up, take the Child and His mother and go into the land of Israel." How likely is that? Is the angel really saying, "I don't care when or even whether you get up; but whenever you do get around to rolling out of bed, what I really want you to do is..."? Or is he not instead saying "get up, and go!"

Or again, in Matthew 21:2 the Lord says of the donkey and colt, "Untie them and bring them to me." But the command "Untie" translates the aorist participle λύσαντες (lusantes). Too literally, once again, it is "After loosing, lead to Me." But is that really His intent — "Whenever you get around to untying the donkey, here's what I want you to do"? Or is it not "Untie him, and lead him to Me"?

Check out a couple more, with the word translating an aorist participle bolded:
Matthew 22:13 Then the king said to the attendants, 'Bind him hand and foot and cast him [δήσαντες αὐτοῦ πόδας καὶ χεῖρας ἐκβάλετε αὐτὸν] into the outer darkness. In that place there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.'

Matthew 28:7 Then go quickly and tell [καὶ ταχὺ πορευθεῖσαι εἴπατε] his disciples that he has risen from the dead, and behold, he is going before you to Galilee; there you will see him. See, I have told you."
That last one is very significant for this study, because (A) it comes just shortly before our target-verse, and (B) the form is very similar. If we are going to insist that v. 19 carries no imperative to "go," then we must say the same of v. 7. (Other examples are found in Matt. 9:18 and 11:14, as well as Lk. 13:32; 17:8, 14; 19:30; Acts 9:11; 16:9, 15.)

Now, having noticed this, I then checked The Experts. Indeed, Greek Jedi-master Dan Wallace comments on the same phenomenon, referring to this as an "attendant circumstance participle" (Greek Grammar Beyond the Basics, p. 640). Wallace explains:
The attendant circumstance participle is used to communicate an action that, in some sense, is coordinate with the finite verb. In this respect it is not dependent, for it is translated like a verb. Yet it is still dependent semanti­cally, because it cannot exist without the main verb. It is translated as a finite verb connected to the main verb by and. The participle then, in effect, “piggy-backs” on the mood of the main verb. This usage is relatively com­mon, but widely misunderstood.
So in sum, it is true that disciple is the principle command in Matthew 28:19, but the discipling necessitates going. Both are encompassed. After all, the direct object is the nations, and they are principally located elsewhere. The apostles are to disciple the nations and, to do that, they must go. Why must they? Because Jesus has all authority in heaven and on earth, and not merely in Israel (v. 18). He owns it all, He has rights to all of it; therefore, His church must bring the Gospel and His commands through all of it.

And now... you know that!

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11 November 2010

Briefly: ask Michael Holmes about his new SBL Greek NT

by Dan Phillips

A couple of weeks ago, I told you about a new Greek New Testament from Dr. Michael W. Holmes, sponsored by the SBL, and available on Logos and BibleWorks (and otherwise).

Now Logos has created an opportunity to ask Dr. Holmes questions about his new edition. You can post them on this Facebook page. Dr. Holmes will monitor the thread, and post his answers next Tuesday, November 16, at 10am PT. You might want to question him about his philosophy and approach, expectations for the text's use, or specific readings you find interesting.

Now... you know that!

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29 October 2010

Logos: two neat things — one new (new Greek NT!), one not

by Dan Phillips

While we're all waiting and hoping to hear from Phil... you get to hear from me, about Logos.

First: you all know how much I love me some BibleWorks 8. Mine is a love that cannot be denied.

However, I've been looking  for an opportunity to share one feature Logos has over BW8:
Layout of the Biblical texts.

That is, in BW8, the font is simply there. It's beautiful, it's clear, it's all the wonderful things that BW is — but it's all block-set. No paragraphs, and no broken margins for poetry. So recently when I wanted to do a read-through of the ESV of Amos, I simply used my Logos.

That would be a nice BW upgrade for BW9.

Second: Logos has just released a new critical edition of the Greek New Testament, for free. The edition was done by Michael W. Holmes and sponsored by the Society of Biblical Literature.

I just read about it at the BibleWorks forums, and added it to my Logos yesterday, with no time for more than a hasty glance. You can read more about it here and here.

Logos is providing it to users free here. (You can also get a hard-copy next month.)

Holmes has taught in evangelical institutions, as you'll see in his bio. This may jar your impression of the SBL, as it does mine. However, lately, the SBL has apparently been letting (gasp!) evangelicals move up the bus a bit — a fact which has caused some panic and hysteria.

Good times.

UPDATE: now the multitalented Mike Hanel has made the SBLGNT available for BibleWorks 8 as well.
UPDATE II: and, thanks to Jim Darlack, the apparatus as well.

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03 September 2009

Good-riddance, TNIV; hello, Son of NIV

by Dan Phillips

In my own reading of the NT, I generally read the Greek text; if I'm preaching from the OT, I consult the Hebrew.

If I want an English translation, I generally use the ESV. If I want a commentary, I use a commentary.

Or the NIV.

A few years back, They unrolled a misbegotten version called Today's New International Version (TNIV). WORLD called it the "stealth Bible," for good reason. It was marketed in sneaky ways.

Though a laundry list of Big Names said glowing things about it, it apparently hasn't caught on, which is a very good thing.

I went through the Proverbs TNIV, and the notes I enter in my beloved BibleWorks contain many tut-tuttings over their renderings. The most frequent is to this effect: "Again, TNIV pluralizes the singulars to fit its agenda." That refers to the translators' fad-driven, politically-correct decision to turn singular verses (i.e. 26:16a — "The sluggard is wiser in his own eyes") into plurals ("Sluggards are wiser in their own eyes"). Without textual warrant, the excuse offered is that a sluggardly woman who is reading will be too stupid to see herself in the verse because the standard English device of "he" is used. We're to picture her snorting "Whew! That ain't me!" and popping another Bon-Bon into her mouth.

This results in many atrocious changes of meaning, such as Psalm 1:1-2, which is transformed into —
Blessed are those who do not walk in step with the wicked
or stand in the way that sinners take
or sit in the company of mockers,
2 but who delight in the law of the LORD
and meditate on his law day and night
There is no lack of clarity in the original text. The TNIV paraphrasts simply take it to themselves to "improve" it, by changing it.

Gallons of ink (literal and virtual) were spilled trying to rationalize such changes. Thankfully, it never did catch on with most Bible-believers, and now it has been announced that the TNIV is being round-filed. Notable luminaries such as Ligon Duncan and Al Mohler have responded positively, and more will come. This subluminary also is happy to hear it.

So now the NIV will be updated, and Douglas Moo confirms that the translators are welcoming input and suggestions.

Do I have any suggestions? Oh, I have a few, off the top of my head. They're all serious, in case anyone wonders.
  1. God is not "He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named." Call God by His name when the Holy Spirit does. God moved the writers of the Hebrew Old Testament to call Him "Yahweh" over 6800 times. Anyone believing in the plenary, verbal (hel-lo?) inspiration of the Bible should do the same, eschewing the superstitious practice of unbelievers who try to be holier than God by refusing to do what He commanded to be done. (I may have shared this thought previously once or twice... or three or four times, or more.) It's disgraceful that only one-man versions, a Roman Catholic version, or cultic versions honor the text-as-given in that regard, while supposedly VPI-accepting translators persistently don't.
  2. Never, ever pluralize a singular. The men who were carried along by the Holy Spirit (as you and I are not) knew how to use plurals as well as singulars. When they don't, you don't.
  3. Be much more cautious and conservative in dropping conjunctions for the sake of "smoothness." It is true that Hebrew uses the waw conjunction much more frequently than English can easily bear. However, conjunctions reveal the writer's logical progressions. Sometimes they are interpretively significant (as with the kai ["and"] which begins Matthew 17:1, dropped by the TNIV and other versions.) They should only be dropped when absolutely necessary... and even then, I'd wish some note of their presence could be made.
  4. Resist the temptation to substitute commentary for translation. It tempts the pride to "correct" ambiguities in the text, but it is more respectful to the text to leave them there for believer-priests to wrestle with. To select one should-be-beyond-argument example, take Paul's use of "flesh." Every English reader knows that word. What does it mean? The answer to that is interpretive. To render it "sinful nature" as NIV does removes the text's own ambiguity and makes a decision for the reader. Don't.
There. I said "a few." I welcome you to share your own, particularly if you have some training in Hebrew or Greek.

NOTE: KJV-only folks (as opposed to those who simply prefer the KJV) are not invited to this discussion. We know what you think, and frankly, it is one alternative for which I (to speak as kindly as I can) have no respect.

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27 August 2009

Olive Tree Greek NT and Hebrew OT for iPhone (review)

by Dan Phillips

Olive Tree Bible Software lays out a very impressive array of resources for the iPhone. A surprisingly large list of free books are available on the site. In this review, we take a look at Olive Tree's Hebrew and Greek Bibles.

(Click all images to enlarge.)

The Hebrew text is the standard Biblia Hebraica Stuttgartensia (BHS). I really love the display: very clear characters, sharp vowel-points and accents. In fact, their Hebrew display is even clearer than in my dearly-beloved BibleWorks.

There are a couple of temporary glitches, which actually allow me to illustrate another Olive Tree strength. In some displays, the Hebrew text is cut off (i.e. in the right margin of Psalm 32:4). But this has been reported through their online forum, and Olive Tree support is always very responsive. They're working for a resolution.

One other oddity about the text; in just a few passages that I've seen so far, boxes are inserted (see left, Isaiah 7:14). They are also aware of this problem, and working to resolve it.

You would not expect a textual apparatus for such a small display, and there isn't one. However, the text does preserve the kethib/qere'. [The former preserves the traditional text without emendation even when it made no sense to the copier; the latter is the way the text should be read aloud.] The readings are indicated by bracketing the kethib between single hash-marks, and the qere' between double marks, as in the image at the right.

The Greek text is the 27th Edition of the Nestle-Aland Text of the Greek New Testament.

It is also a very sweet, clear display, very easy to read. Like the BHS, the Greek text also contains no textual notes whatever. After Mark 16, the text includes both the "shorter ending" and vv. 9-20 in French brackets. Same with John 7:53—8:11, as in the following image.

Another very nice feature of Olive Tree's iPhone software is the ability to split-screen. Thus you can have (say) the Hebrew text and its English translation:


...or the original Hebrew OT prophecy and the Greek quotation in the NT:

Navigation is performed by selected book, then chapter, then verse. The application even supports Hebrew and Greek searches, either by exact spelling, or using wild-cards.

You can alter the font sizes, if you prefer larger or smaller displays, change colors, and perform other customizations.

I don't think anyone looks to his iPhone to support a full-orbed study program such as BibleWorks or Logos. But I think these are some absolutely terrific apps for redeeming the time (Ephesians 5:16), "using up odd moments" as F. F. Bruce once wrote me. Waiting for the doctor, or the DMV clerk, or the teller in the bank — you could be listening to some nice classical music, and reading your Hebrew OT or your Greek NT.

What was a pointless aggravation becomes an occasion for firming up your grasp on the very Word itself.

Sweet!

(I also have the ESV Study Bible by Olive Tree on my iPhone, and plan to review it at a later date.)

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07 July 2009

Pastordude: please, before you say that word....

by Dan Phillips

So you're a pastor, and you're preaching this passage, and you want to mention some Hebrew or Greek word that is in the passage. Fine. Great, in fact. Terrific.

One request.

Say it right, or don't say it.

Now, many would advise that you just not say it, period, because it's not going to help your largely (linguisitically) unschooled audience, and may just look like preening. Most of the time, I think that's good advice.

But because I know we pastordudes can be a bit thick, let me break it down and be very specific.

You're preaching a passage. There's a Hebrew or Greek word in it that is cool, that you think is worth commenting on. Fine.

If you do not actually know Hebrew or Greek:
  1. You should learn Hebrew and Greek. (After all, you are an instructor in ancient Hebrew and Greek literature. Your Principal wrote the class textbook in those languages. Your students have the right to expect that you're conversant with them, or working on it.)
  2. Until then, you probably should not say any Hebrew or Greek word.
  3. If you do, find someone who has studied, and ask him whether you're about to say it right.
If you studied Hebrew and Greek in seminary but haven't kept it up:
  1. Tsk. Make time. Get current. (See #1, above)
  2. See #3, above.
I can easily think of two pastors I've heard, very different traditions, but both well-known for Bible teaching. I know neither personally. Both said Greek words in these sermons I recall. Both said them badly. In the case of at least one word each, both clearly had no idea what they were doing — just sort of made a running, stumbling lunge at the respective words. It wasn't pretty.

Now, I know a lot of you are thinking, "So? Good heavens, man — only you will care!" To that, three thoughts:

First: I'll admit, it's a reflection of how seriously I take the pulpit. I think the pulpit is a terrifying place in which to stand. I think everyone should think that same way, or not stand there (James 3:1). Most people should not stand there at all, if you think about it.

I'll admit this, too: when I see a guy in a pulpit, chatting and yarning and speculating and obviously casually pulling things off the top of his head... well, you know, even typing this, I stop and struggle for words. I just cannot fathom that. C-a-n-n-o-t.

Simplest and most charitable way I can put it: obviously such an one and I view the pulpit very differently.

Second: if you don't know it, you shouldn't be preaching it. Do I really need to expand on that? Say what you know, know what you say, or shoosh.

(I do, by the way, strive to practice what I'm preaching here. I may be current in Hebrew and Greek, but I don't really know French, or Latin, or German. Yet I've had occasion over the last 30+ years to use words from those languages — and I've done due diligence before doing so. You know, they're not just funny-looking English words. If you apply American pronunciation canons to a Latin word such as oratio, or a French word such as métier, you will mispronounce the word.)

Third: think about overall credibility.

Suppose I choose to draw an illustration from the field of biology, or anatomy, or a physical science, or an historical event. Suppose, further, someone in my audience happens to be well-studied in that field. And suppose he instantly recognizes that I'm full of beans, that I pulled out some old chestnut that every well-studied ____ist/ian/ologist immediately knows to be an urban myth, or a common but long-since-exploded misconception.

What will he think of my faithfulness? of the seriousness of my intent? of the thoroughness with which I research what I am about to hold out for people's trust and acceptance?

He'll instantly know I'm willing to say things of which I haven't taken the time to make sure.

And he'll wonder — he'll have good reason to wonder — how thoroughly I have researched and thought through the other claims I'm making. He'll have good reason to think, "Okay, I know anatomy, and I know that what he just said is simply beans. But I don't know Greek, or theology, or much about the Bible. How do I know whether he knows what he's talking about on those subjects, or whether he's just as sloppy about them as he was about this?"

Think about it, brothers.

It matters.

One Dan's viewpoint, your mileage may vary.

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22 May 2008

Great news for Greekers: Alford gets Logosized

by Dan Phillips

As I preached through New Testament books, I always worked directly with the Greek text (duh — or should-be-"duh"), and I always consulted Henry Alford.

Henry Alford (1810-1871) was a remarkable scholar. He was "one of the most variously-accomplished churchmen of his day -- poet, preacher, painter, musician, biblical scholar, critic, and philologist." Though not exactly where I am doctrinally, he was a lover of the Word, and a meticulous student and scholar of the original text. To consider the massive amount of information that Alford amassed, examined and provided, in the age before computers, photocopiers, or even electric typewriters... it's staggering, simply staggering.

But that was Alford. For instance: what were you doing when you were six? I was watching cartoons. Henry Alford was writing The Travels of St. Paul, and a collection of Latin odes. Further, when Alford
...was scarcely nine he had compiled, in the straggling characters of a schoolboy, a compendious History of the Jews; besides drawing out a chronological scheme in which were tabulated the events of the Old Testament. Prior to the completion of his tenth year he actually produced a series of terse sermons or laconically outlined homilies, the significant title of which was Looking unto Jesus.
Unsurprisingly, Alford was made a fellow at Trinity College when he was twenty-four.

Nor was he merely an arid academic. When he was sixteen, Alford wrote in his Bible, "I do this day, as in the presence of God and my own soul, renew my covenant with God, and solemnly determine henceforth to become His, and to do His work as far as in me lies." He was known for his consistent and holy life, as well as his likable, friendly way of dealing with people.

When he was engaged to be married, he decided it would help his bride-to-be if she, too, knew Greek.

So he wrote a 60-page grammar for her.

Alford was quite the polymath. In addition to being a master of Greek, he penned a number of hymns. We read that Alford
would turn with zest, after hours of severe study given to the collation of a Hebrew manuscript or to the examination of the exegetical subtleties of a German commentator on the Greek Testament, to doctoring the hall clock and making it strike the half-hours, to tuning the piano in the drawing-room, or to playing games with his children in the nursery. The wooden front of the organ (which instrument he could play with the hand of a master) was carved according to his own ingenious design and by his own dexterous chiseling.
The grand literary opus that concerns us is
Alford's Greek Testament (1849-1861). As I said, it's a work of immense thought and study. I still find it highly useful. Much more impressively, when asked who he characteristically turns to for help in the Greek text, I was pleased to hear John Piper answer, "Henry Alford" (still trying to source that quotation).

[UPDATE: Phil Gons found the quotation, thanks to a suggestion by Pilgrim Mommy. It was after Piper's lecture on John Owen. Piper says:

When I’m stumped with a . . . grammatical or syntactical or logical flow [question] in Paul, I go to Henry Alford. Henry Alford mostly answers—he . . . comes closer more consistently than any other human commentator to asking my kinds of questions. (John Piper, “John Owen: The Chief Design of My Life—Mortification and Universal Holiness,” 1:30:11–1:30:31).

Now that Phil found the quotation, I remember agreeing with Piper: Alford asks my kind of questions, too.]

I found Alford to be a sound, sane commentator. What I found particularly valuable — even if I didn't end up agreeing with him specifically — was Alford's way of weighing competing interpretations. Alford had the broad grasp of Greek to be able to say, "If Paul had meant to say that, he would have written ___, or ___." He really wrestled with the Greek text as given, and forced me to enter into the writer's mind and thought-processes in choosing how to express himself. Understand the author, and you understand the voice of God. I found Alford useful to that end.

All that being the case, since Alford had (surprisingly) never yet been issued in electronic form, I recommended to the Logos Bible software folks that they consider it. I was delighted when they immediately responded by looking into the project — and now it's under way!

At present Alford's Greek Testament is in pre-production, during which time interested parties pre-order. This assures Logos that the considerable cost of production will be covered by purchases.

I slammed in my order as soon as I got the notice.

Thought at least some of you might want to know. If you're interested, go for it!

(Hmm... wonder who ordered first: Piper, or me?)

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