“Begotten” is the KJV translation of μονογενής in John 3:16. It describes the unique relationship of Jesus to the Father. However, the KJV “begotten” is based on a misunderstanding of how the word was formed. μόνος conveys the idea of “one and only” (“being the only entity in a class,” BDAG) and γενός refers to a specific “class” or “kind.” From γένος, English derives its word “genus,” i.e., “species.”

There are two words in Mark 1:12 that can be translated two different ways, and they both produce a different translation. Is Mark really picturing Jesus as a man in charge, "immediately" going from one thing to another? And did the Holy Spirit need to "drive" Jesus into the wilderness to be tempted by Satan, as if Jesus didn't want to go?

Matthew and Luke have two different genealogies for Jesus, not even agreeing on the name of his grandfather. Is this a contradiction? I will look at three possible solutions and the problems of each. The whole issue of genealogies is compounded by the fact that they can skip generations, the same person can have different names (or different spellings), and levirate marriage can result in a physical father and a legal father.

Matthew 5:19 illustrates several aspects of Greek. Perhaps the most interesting is how Greek can drop words out of the second half of a sentence that is parallel in structure. But it also shows the different meanings of οὕτως, and how a long clause can be the subject of the verb and also have it repeated with a demonstrative pronoun. I still remember in second grade a poster of a man with two hats, and the caption said, "The man he." That's poor English, but acceptable Greek, perhaps good Greek.

When the biblical writer sets of a parallel structure, I think it is important to try and keep that parallelism in translation. But there are times when doing so obscures the meaning of a word, and you have to choose between parallelism and accurately conveying the meaning of the word. In Matthew 7:13–14, is the path of discipleship “narrow” or “difficult”?

We are used to reading that "moth and rust" destroy earthly treasures, but some translations have "vermin" or a "devouring insect" (NET). BDAG says the reading "rust" "finds no support." Apparently, "rust" made its way into English through Tyndale and was made popular by the KJV.

There is meaning in Greek word order, but it is normally so nuanced that it can’t come out in translation. Ephesians 2:8–9 is one of the rare exceptions, illustrating how to emphasize a word or phrase by changing its normal position in the sentence. You can also watch this vlog on YouTube.

Sometimes the translator just has to make an interpretive decision. The Greek can mean one thing or something else, and you have to choose. Hebraic (or attributive) genitives often force this type of decision. 2 Corinthians 4:4.

Have you ever noticed that when you see something, perhaps something new or different, all of a sudden you start seeing it everywhere? You see a yellow car, and all of a sudden there are yellow cars everywhere? That’s how I’m feeling about the common belief that formal equivalent translations are better because they show the underlying Hebrew and Greek structures. My point is that in almost every (if not all) verse in the New Testament, the Greek has been altered in come way, and the only way to know when a verse reflects the underlying Greek is to know the Greek.

Paul is ending his letter to the Corinthian church and concludes with a general admonition. V 13 illustrates the issue of aspect, and v 14 shows a troubling omission in some translations.

The traditional translation is that Jesus' star arose "in the East," but the primary meaning of the word is "rising." Of course, stars appear on the eastern horizon as the earth spins. Part of the reasoning for a translation, though, is tied up[in what you think the star was. Can a start point not only to Israel but to Bethlehem, and even to where Jesus was?

Rarely does a translator let his or her theological bias show, but in 1 Corinthians 15:1-2 we can see an example. V 2 also is a strange verse to translate with some unusual constructions.

Sometimes the absence of a comma can significantly alter the meaning of a passage, and its inclusion can clarify. 1 Corinthians 13:2 provides such an example.

The challenge of translating Hebrews 2:6–8 is that the original context (Psalm 8) was talking about people in general (plural), but the author of Hebrews rightly sees that it is messianic (singular) as does the author of Psalm 110:1 (Heb 2:8). So do you keep the original context, or its messianic understanding, and do you try to find a way to represent both?

My Greek Verse of the Day is a screencast vlog that I will be doing weekly at first. I will take a well-known Bible verse, read it, translate it, and then phrase it. Finally, I will include some comments about its meaning or significance. In John 3:16 I will be talking about the meaning of οὕτως, and that it can’t mean “so much” as in the traditional translations. I will also talk about the πᾶς and the fact that it is indefinite. The promises of John 3:16 are available to each and every person (πᾶς) in the entire world (κόσμος) who does in fact believe. There is no inherent limitation in the “all” (“whosoever,” KJV); the limitation is in the modifying clause.

Adverbial participles are flexible little critters with a wide swatch of possible meanings. Usually their meaning is relatively clear, sometime very clear, but other times not so much.

In 2 Timothy 1 Paul is encouraging a discouraged Timothy. When I teach this chapter, I ask the students to discover every way Paul encourages Timothy. It’s a good exercise, and one that everyone in authority should practice. There is at least one unique encouragement in every verse.

Everyone likes to do a Greek word study. Of all the things that we learn in Greek class, this is the one that stays with us the longest. The trick, of course, is to know which words to study. I was at the Biblical Literacy Conference in Philadelphia this weekend, and Sunday morning we had a reading from Genesis 1–3. I saw one of the really important hints as to which word to study

1 Corinthians 15:11 gives us a great example why it is important to know a word’s semantic range, and also my oft-repeated mantra that there is no random translations in any major Bible translation. There always is a reason, even though at times you have to look pretty hard to find it.

There are two stories in the Gospels about a woman pouring perfume on Jesus, and there are enough differences that some people argue Luke created the account and hence he is not trustworthy. But despite the similarities, there are so many differences that they must be two different accounts, and hence there is no contradiction.

Paul’s only boast is in what God has done through his own ministry, the goal of which was “bringing the Gentiles to obedience” (v 18b). Paul is going out of his way — and confusing most Greek students — by his insistence that everything he has done was really accomplished by Christ through the power of the Spirit. There is quite a bit of information hidden in the Greek that not all translations bring out, or are even able to bring out. Watch the phrasing as we work through the passage.

γάρ is a tricky word. The more formal equivalent translations tend to just use “for” and let you figure out what it means. The problem is that “for” has a much smaller range of meaning than γάρ, and “for” often does not fit the biblical context. In the case of Romans 12:3, I think translating γάρ as “for” misleads the reader.

How do you translate θλῖψις? If you translate it as “tribulation,” does that bring in foreign ideas in some contexts? This is a tricky one. I wasn't planning on blogging while on vacation in Switzerland, but my brother-in-law asked a good question.

Translators have to be comfortable with compromise. Rarely can you hit the nail on the head, and generally you either over- or under-translate. What do you call all the people in your church? Beloved? I think not.

I was talking to someone yesterday who was explaining why he didn’t use the NIV. He referred to it as a “dynamic equivalent” translation, and it wasn’t a complement. Strange as it may sound, it was the first time my attention focused on the word “equivalent” instead of “dynamic.”

When Paul tells the Romans that Jesus was “appointed the Son of God in power by his resurrection,” does that mean he wasn’t the Son of God before his resurrection? I thought God never changes?

Don't you find it strange that after many months with Jesus (we don't know how many), the disciples find themselves in a potentially fatal storm, and they ask if Jesus even cares? The context of months of ministry suggests that they did know how much he cared, but the way translations handle the passage you may be led to think they didn't know, which would be strange indeed.

Paul encourages us to “put on (ἐνδύσασθε) the full armor of God” (v 11), and again to take up (ἀναλάβετε) the full armor of God (v 13). The third imperative στῆτε tells us to “stand,” and then he follows with a series of participles telling us how to do this.

It is often argued by a small but vocal minority of people that modern translations omit the doctrine of the Trinity. Despite the overwhelming evidence to the contrary, the accusation is still leveled against the NIV and all modern translations. But this is an issue of textual criticism and not theology.

Sometimes in Greek you can't tell the difference between an indicative and an interrogative, a statement and a question. After Thomas says, “My Lord and My God,” does Jesus affirm him, or question him?

Some people say they don’t trust the Old Testament because of all the so-called contradictions. One of the apparent contradictions often pointed out is found in Proverbs 26:4–5. Should you, or should you not, answer a fool?