I hesitate to open this particular Pandora’s Box, and my intent is not so much to deal with the issue of submission as much as it is to give a potential example of semantic range.

It always confused me when Paul switches from “wives submit (ὑποτασσόμενοι, from v 21)” to “wives respect (φοβῆται).” Are they meant to be the same thing, or is one an explanation of the other?

Yesterday in church I saw in the CSB a potential answer, or at least part of the answer. I am used to the translation “however” for πλήν. “However, let each one of you love his wife as himself, and let the wife see that she respects her husband” (ESV, also NIV, NRSV). The NET uses “Nevertheless.”

However, the CSB has, “To sum up,” and the NLT has “So again I say.” Hoehner cites BDF #449, saying πλήν “is used to conclude a discussion and emphasize what is essential.” This would parallel BDAG 1c, “only, in any case, on the other hand, but, breaking off a discussion and emphasizing what is important.” In this case, it means v 33 is meant to break off from the details of the current discussion and summarizing entire passage.

So how does φοβέομαι sum up ὑποτάσσω?

One of the challenges in translation has to do with the nature of phrases. In English, we need to keep phrases closer to the words they modify. If we use an adverbial prepositional phrase, it has to be relatively close to the verb. If it is adjectival, it needs to be close to the noun.

Greek doesn’t. The Greek mind creates linkages that can span much larger spaces, and the phrases can be quite far away (by English standards).

Another challenge of phrases is that if you just translate word for word you will often mistranslate becasuse it puts ideas together that the Greek author never intended to be close. Take for example, 1 Peter 1:1–2a. The phrases go in this order.

1. (v 1) Peter — Πέτρος
2. an apostle of Jesus Christ — ἀπόστολος Ἰησοῦ Χριστοῦ
3. to the elect — ἐκλεκτοῖς
4. exiles of the dispersion in Pontus, Galatia, Cappadocia, Asia, and Bithynia — παρεπιδήμοις διασπορᾶς Πόντου, Γαλατίας, Καππαδοκίας, Ἀσίας καὶ Βιθυνία
5. (v 2) according to the foreknowledge of God the Father — κατὰ πρόγνωσιν θεοῦ πατρὸς

Your first decision is how to treat ἐκλεκτοῖς παρεπιδήμοις. You could see the adjective ἐκλεκτοῖς as modifying the substantival adjective παρεπιδήμοις; they were elect exiles. Or you could see ἐκλεκτοῖς as a substantival adjective, with παρεπιδήμοις being in apposition. “To the elect, the exiles.”

I want to interrupt my normal blog to share an good illustration of how we should be living life.

Robin and I were driving home yesterday from a vacation in southern California. We drove to Redding and set out early the next morning so we could see Mt. Shasta in the early morning light. To say it was spectacular is an understatement.

As we drove about half way around, our windshield was getting pretty messed up with dead bugs, but I didn’t really notice. My eyes were focused on Mt. Shasta, and the bugs (or what was left of them) didn’t affect my vision.

It is kind of like when rain starts to fall and you don’t really need your windshield wipers. Robin prefers me using the windshield wipers pretty quickly; the wet windshield blocks her view. But I hate noise, especially the sound of rubber blades pushing across glass when there is not enough water to hush the sound. I am comfortable focusing past the water onto the road, and the water rarely gets in my way.

1 John gives us three ways that we can know we are God’s children.

1. One is the inner witness of the Holy Spirit. “And the one who keeps his commandments resides in him, and he in him. And by this we know that he abides in us: by the Spirit whom he has given to us.” (3:24).
2. A second is grounded in the nature of God and our true belief in him. “Everyone who believes that Jesus is the Christ has been born of God” (5:1, see also 4:2).
3. The third is the fact that we are obedient to his commands. “Now this is how we can be sure that we know God: if we keep his commandments. The one who says, ‘I know God,’ yet does not keep his commandments, is a liar and the truth is not in him. But whoever keeps his word, truly in that person is the love of God brought to fulfillment. This is how we can be sure that we are in him: the one who claims to abide in God ought to walk just as Jesus walked” (2:3–6).

The question today is where does 3:19–20 fit, as part of #2 or #3. More specifically, is the idiom ἐν τούτῳ in 3:19 anaphoric, pointing back to the previous thought, or does it point forward?

How is the new life that we live with Christ different from the life we lived before the gate? How is the path different? 

The path is different because it is the path of discipleship, of following Jesus. As we follow Jesus, we start to “look” more and more like him; and as we look more like him, we look less like the world.

There are many descriptions in the Bible of the path of discipleship and why it is so different from the world, but my favorite is in the book called “Mark,” chapter 8, verse 34. This is the pivotal verse in my life when it comes to how I think about life as a follower of Jess. It changed the way I think, and actually led me to write this blog and the forthcoming book.

We are at a turning point of Jesus’ story. Jesus has been conducting a public ministry, speaking to large crowds, teaching about the kingdom of God, and doing miracles to prove his authority. At Mark 8:27, it is like Jesus has finally come to the point where he is willing to ask the disciples to make a commitment. Who do they think that he is? Peter, probably speaking for all twelve of them, says, “We believe you are the Christ, the Messiah, God’s king who was to come into the world.” Jesus accepts Peter’ confession as true.

But then everything in the gospel story changes. Jesus’ ministry becomes mostly private, not doing as many miracles, and primarily teaching the twelve disciples what it is like to live as disciples in God’s kingdom. In verse 34 Jesus says, “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me.”

One of the challenges of the letter to Ephesians is to understand how Paul could write a letter to a church where he had ministered for three and a half years, and yet in the letter it appears that he does not know the people to whom he is writing.

This explains the issues surrounding the inclusion of ἐν Ἐφέσῳ in 1:1 and the suggestion that the epistle is really a circular letter. But it does raise an interesting question about the translation of εἴ γε in 3:2 and 4:21.

“For this reason, I, Paul, the prisoner of Christ Jesus on behalf of you Gentiles— you have heard, haven’t you (εἴ γε ἠκούσατε), about the administration of God’s grace that he gave to me for you?” (3:1–2, CSB). The CSB at least indicates that Paul is not confident that his audience has heard, but gives the suggestion that they have. Other translations are a little more neutral, saying things like “assuming, by the way, that you know God gave me the special responsibility of extending his grace to you Gentiles” (NLT, also ESV).

We have the same situation in 4:21. “But that is not how you came to know Christ, assuming (εἴ γε) you heard about him and were taught by him, as the truth is in Jesus” (4:20–21, CSB).

What is surprising is the translation of NIV and NRSV, which use “surely.” “Surely you have heard about the administration of God’s grace” (3:2, NIV). “For surely you have heard about him and were taught in him, as truth is in Jesus” (4:21, NRSV). These translations are much more confident than the Greek allows about the audience’s knowledge of Paul’s ministry and the ethical message of the gospel.

Please let me apologize for how irregular this blog has been. It actually is extremely important to me since I am working on a book for new believers to help them begin their spiritual journey well. So your comments are especially helpful and I value your time in interacting with my work. I will get back on track, sending out a blog post every Thursday. Thank you. —Bill

We were changed in conversion, and a changed person will live a changed life, not because you have to, but because you want to. In the Bible, one of the first things people did after conversion was to announce it publicly in a ritual called “baptism.”

In the history of the church there has been a lot of arguing about baptism, and unfortunately in some cases (and fortunately in others) it has led to dissension and division; and yet we are told to be baptized and so a young Christian needs to understand what it is and what it isn’t.

From the following you will see that I believe baptism is an intentional act of a person’s faith. For those who have a different view of baptism, this blog is not for you. But if you believe in believer’s baptism, I would like to know how the following works. Does it explain baptism correctly, simply, and convincingly? Thanks.

The practice of baptism is probably the best picture of the change that happens in the life of a new believer and the newness of the path. In case you are unfamiliar with it, let me explain it briefly. Different churches do it differently, but this is what baptism looks like for the majority of believers.

Having established that God is at work in his children, giving them godly desires and the ability to accomplish those desires (2:12–13), Paul then draws out one way those desires manifest themselves. “Do all things without grumbling or arguing, that you may be blameless and innocent, children of God above reproach in the midst of a crooked and perverse generation, among whom you shine like stars in the universe.”

As an aside, wouldn’t it be wonderful if this actually characterized the church? No negative words. No senseless debate. We would actually shine into the darkness of this world. And isn’t it interesting that if we could stop grumbling and arguing, then we will be “ blameless and innocent”? (And please don’t comment on the blog post about why it is so important that you argue about theology; that’s not the point.)

Paul continues, “But even if I am to be poured out as a drink offering upon the sacrifice and service of your faith, I am glad and rejoice with all of you.” And then our verse. “So you too should be glad and rejoice with me. (τὸ δὲ αὐτὸ καὶ ὑμεῖς χαίρετε καὶ συγχαίρετέ μοι.)” (NIV).

I have frequently said that there is no random translation; even we disagree with a translation’s position, you can always see why they did what they did. But I cannot tell why the NIV does not translate τὸ αὐτὸ. The καὶ is emphasizing that the Philippians are also to rejoice in the midst of their circumstances, just like Paul is rejoicing in the midst of his imprisonment. The τὸ αὐτό makes this quite emphatic; the Philippians should be rejoicing in the same way that Paul is rejoicing, i.e., in the midst of their difficult circumstances. Perhaps the NIV sees “too” as an adequate translation of “τὸ ... αὐτὸ καὶ,” but to my ears the English is not nearly as emphatic as is the Greek.

If you were raised in the church with a biblical pastor, you might have some idea what a “divided tongue” is, but possibly not. My guess is that the most natural understanding is that you have a multiple tongues (of fire), and each one is split into different parts (i.e., “cloven”), but one tongue. But then you get to the second half of the verse and you realize that this fire is going over each person present, possibly 120 people (Acts 1:15).

As you compare the translations, it can get even more confusing. The NRSV says, “Divided tongues, as of fire, appeared among them, and a tongue rested on each of them.” As I said, I am not sure how people would understand “divided tongues.” And then later you have a single tongue over each person.

The problem is that you have two modifiers of “tongues” (γλῶσσαι), both “spreading out” (διαμεριζόμεναι) and “as fire” (ὡσεὶ πυρὸς). How do you say this?

To begin with, the “as if” goes with “fire,” so the NIV places the emphasis on the wrong word. “They saw what seemed to be tongues of fire.” They did not “seem” to be “tongues”; they “seemed” to be “fire.” Granted, the NIV makes sense and what they saw was not really a tongue, so at least this makes sense.

Paul writes, “After this letter has been read to you (καὶ ὅταν ἀναγνωσθῇ παρ᾿ ὑμῖν ἡ ἐπιστολή), see that it is also read in the church of the Laodiceans (ποιήσατε ἵνα καὶ ἐν τῇ Λαοδικέων ἐκκλησίᾳ ἀναγνωσθῇ) and that you in turn read the letter from Laodicea (καὶ τὴν ἐκ Λαοδικείας ἵνα καὶ ὑμεῖς ἀναγνῶτε)” (Col 4:16; NIV).

This verse gives us a nice example of ellipsis; ἐπιστολή is not repeated but assumed in the final clause. τὴν modifies the unexpressed ἐπιστολήν.

It gives us another example as well of how we often write in short-hand and expect the reader to understand the missing parts. If you just read the final phrase, who wrote the second letter? The NIV’s “the letter from Laodicea” sounds like the church in Laodicea wrote a letter to the Colossian church. However, most people (if not all) understand that this second letter was written by Paul to the Laodicean church, and he wanted to make sure that his letter was also sent to Colossae.

If Paul had taken the time to write all the words to be precise and not confusing, he may have written τὴν ἐκ Λαοδικείας ἐπιστολήν μου or perhaps τὴν ἐπιστολήν μου τῷ Λαοδικείᾳ.

I know this is a difficult and controversial verse, and I don’t think I have anything new to add to the discussion — how’s that for garnering excitement to read the rest of the blog? But there are a couple things that are interesting.

Jesus has been discussing the destruction of the temple and his second return. In vv 34-35 he says, “Truly, I say to you, this generation will not pass away (οὐ μὴ παρέλθῃ) until all these things take place. Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will not pass away (οὐ μὴ παρέλθωσιν)”( ESV).

First of all, most translations give up at trying to translate the emphatic οὐ μὴ plus aorist subjunctive, and I understand why. It is hard to do without over-translating or messing with English style. Jesus is saying that this generation will, in no way, pass away before “all these things” happen. The NIV has “certainly not pass away”; the rest skip the emphatic negation. That’s too bad. There can be no doubt of the emphasis Jesus is placing on his prophecy, and this emphasis makes the lack of apparent fulfillment even more problematic. And why would translations claiming to be “literal” and “reflecting the Greek structures” omit translating this construction?

The second οὐ μὴ plus aorist subjunctive construction, however, does receive some emphasis in the NET, “my words will never pass away” (also NIV and NLT). Now, the οὐ μή construction does not in and of itself mean “never”; it is just a strengthened negation. But in this context, it makes good sense.

Jesus says, “This is why I said to you that you would die in your sins, for if you do not believe that I am he (ἐγώ εἰμι), you will die in your sins.” This is one of the more interesting conundrums I have seen in a while.

Where does the “he” come from? More importantly, who is “he.” The “I” is Jesus, but who is the “he” Jesus is referring to? Does this really make any sense? Almost all translations say “I am he,” but that doesn’t make it right.

The reason this is an interesting conundrum is because there are several things at work. We all know of the use of ἐγώ εἰμι to make reference to God’s name in Exodus 3:15 (אֶֽהְיֶ֖ה אֲשֶׁ֣ר אֶֽהְיֶ֑ה, Ἐγώ εἰμι ὁ ὤν). Jesus says, “I tell you the solemn truth, before Abraham came to be, I am (ἐγὼ εἰμί)!” (John 8:58). The Jews caught the connection and tried to stone him.

Related are the “I Am” sayings that clearly are making reference to the “I Am,” such as Jesus saying “I am the bread of life (ἐγώ εἰμι ὁ ἄρτος τῆς ζωῆς)” (John 6:35).

On the other side of the theological spectrum we have a verse like John 6:20 in which Jesus says to the frightened disciples, “It is I (ἐγώ εἰμι); do not be afraid.” Nothing theological here.

There are several trailheads where I live. Not one quite like this one in Galilee (see the red jackets along the bottom of  the picture.) Lots of places to leave your car, get your hiking gear ready, and take off on a hike. One of my favorite parts of the hike is right after I have started. I am not tired yet, my feet don’t hurt, and everyone is excited about getting “back to nature.” The trail is pretty open, and you can still see the cars and hear the people.

But then you make the first real turn in the trail, and everything changes. The noise subsides, you start to forget the trailhead, you start seeing nature unstained, and the mountains just seem higher. For me, though, the greatest change is in what I hear. The dull drum of city life disappears after the turn, and I start to hear the sounds of nature. Each bird with its own call. Trees creaking in the wind. Water moving. And in-between the sounds, silence. The kind of silence that almost hurts your ears it is so quiet. And the steady, soft crush of years of leaves and pine needles under my feet, muffling my every step.

And I remind myself, this is why I have come on the hike. Because it is different.

But trails where I live rarely stay easy. The mountains are high, and the trails start to wind and twist and eventually climb up the sides of the hills, then the mountains. It get difficult. My feet start to hurt, and I start to sweat. And I have to remind myself, this is why I have come on the hike. Because it is different

I know I have been beating this drum pretty hard recently, but it is so easy. I keep coming across example that clearly illustrate the problem.

The claim is that a translation can be at least somewhat literal, and that by doing so the translator reduces the amount of interpretation (often true) and the informed reader can see the Greek structure behind the English.

Frankly, the “informed” reader should be reading Greek if he or she is able to learn anything of significance from the English structure. But more importantly, I doubt there is even one verse in the English Bible that actually, clearly, reveals the Greek structure underlying it. The languages are just too different.

I am helping my friend Martin read Greek, and we looked at 2 Thess 2 last Wednesday. In the ESV v 2 reads, “Let no one deceive you in any way. For that day will not come, unless the rebellion comes first, and the man of lawlessness is revealed, the son of destruction.” What Greek lies behind “For that day will not come”?

Nothing.

The phrase “For that day will not come” was inserted to help the reader understand. It is an acceptable practice, but not one that could possibly be called “literal.” The CSB does the same thing, although it has invented another phrase for its translation method: “optimal equivalence” (not formal or functional).

The NASB is more transparent (also KJV). “Let no one in any way deceive you, for it will not come unless the apostasy comes first, and the man of lawlessness is revealed, the son of destruction.” The italics show the inserted words.

(Note: you can also watch this blog post on my YouTube channel. )

Translation is a trade-off. Often you will find different key policies in conflict with one another.

One policy may be that you keep concordance, so you try to translate a Greek word with the same English word. Another policy may be that the translation actually makes sense and does not confuse the reader.

Those two policies come into conflict in Matt 14:28. The gloss for ἀποκρίνομαι is “I answer,” and so the more formal equivalent translations try to use that translation whenever possible. But in English, “to answer” means that someone actually asked a question. Right?

In this story, Jesus is walking on the water toward the disciples. When they see him, they are fearful and Jesus responds, “Take courage, it is I! Do not be afraid” (Matt 14:27).

The next verse reads in the ESV, “And Peter answered (ἀποκριθεὶς) him, ‘Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water.’” What’s the problem? It doesn’t make any sense. It keeps concordance, but in this context it makes no sense because Jesus did not ask a question. You read the same in the CSB, NRSV.

Even the overly wooden NASB sees the problem and drops concordance in favor of meaning. “Peter said to Him” (also the NET). As you would expect, the NIV ( “Lord, if it’s you,’ Peter replied, ‘tell me to come to you on the water.’”) and the NLT (“Then Peter called to him, ‘Lord, if it’s really you, tell me to come to you, walking on the water.’”) see the problem and fix it.

Last week I introduced the topic of change, that after the gate (conversion) a new believer is going to start down the narrow path, and things are going to be different. I think it is important to alert a new believer to the fact that things will change; it is also important to tell them why.

So many people think of Christianity as a list of do’s and don’ts. Their view of God is that he is frowning in heaven, terribly afraid that someone, somewhere, is having a good time. So he has all these things we must do, and things we can no longer do, and the only reward he holds up is heaven — not a bad reward, but wholly inadequate for most people.

How much better to help people understand how fundamentally they were changed at the gate, how change in life is natural, and that they should embrace the change with all the implications.

What did you understand when you became a follower of Christ? Certainly you came to the gate understanding that you had sinned and therefore were separated from God. You acknowledged that you had done what God called you not to do, and that you had not done what he had asked you to do. In turn, what happened? Did not God bring you near to himself? Did he not begin to fill the emptiness in your heart with himself? In a word, things were “different.”

What is the difference between “took” and “has taken”? In first year Greek, it is the difference between the aorist and the perfect, but beyond first year, and especially thinking of the nuances of English, what do you hear?

To my ears, “took” refers to a completed action in the past, with no real effect on the present. “Has taken” is also a completed action, but the action moves into the present as well. So far it sounds like the difference between the aorist and perfect in Greek.

But let’s say you want to refer to an action that was completed, but you don’t want to give the impression that the work is actually finalized. How would you say that? If you say “took,” then it relegates it to the past with no effect in the present.

This is the problem in John 2:20. The Jews are telling Jesus that it οἰκοδομήθη 46 years to build the temple. If you translate οἰκοδομήθη has “took,” then it means that the building project is done, and yet we know from other sources that it was not completed until 64 A.D. Morris has a lengthy note on the issues of dating this passage (p. 200n81).

It is well within the scope of the aorist to use “has taken” as a translation. Welcome to second year Greek. The question is really one of English. Do you want to run the chance of misunderstanding and say “took,” sounding like it was totally done, or do you want to use “has taken,” which leaves the critical question open? What if the Jews were saying that it has taken 46 to get the temple to the stage it currently was, but without giving the impression that it was totally done?

Note: you can watch the introduction to this blog on YouTube.

I came across a blog post the other day that said the NIV translators deliberately mistranslate. While this is not my normal blog topic, I thought I would chime in. As I was the NT Chair of the ESV for ten years and am currently on the CBT, I have quite a lot of experience in translation committees.

I can say quite honestly that I have never seen a translator "mistranslate" any verse in the Bible based on his or her beliefs. When a blogger uses words like "Deliberate Mistranslation," they are saying that translators “know” the verse means one thing, but that they choose to make it say something else. That simply is not true, at least not in my experience.

As I read on the rather lengthy post, I quickly realized that the author had confused interpretation with deliberate mistranslation. Basically, it seems that wherever the blogger held a different interpretation of a verse, that the NIV had deliberately mistranslated. Apples and oranges.

For example, the blogger said: “Ephesians 2:20–22 — The Greek says ‘you are being constructed into a habitation of God in spirit (en pneumati)’, but the NIV interprets this as ‘in the Spirit’ (i.e. the Holy Spirit) without textual warrant. [See BeDuhn, p. 151.] Throughout the epistles, the NIV shows a theological bias to translate ‘in spirit’ as “in the (Holy) Spirit” wherever possible.”

One of the difficult points in translation is how to handle πνεῦμα. Since Greek was originally all capitals, the written form of the text simply does not give us a clue as to whether the author is speaking of "spirit" or "Spirit." You have to make a choice, and in this case they are mutually exclusive choices. But that is a far cry from saying it is a deliberate mistranslation.

We are talking about how to mentor a new believer, how to help them get started on their spiritual journey, and how to help them move in the right direction.

We started by reviewing conversion. You want to make sure that someone who thinks they are born again are truly born again, that you both have the same starting point. But where do you go next?

My recommendation is that you help them see how life is going to be different, and eventually difficult. I am so concerned that a new follower of Christ will think that life is going to be a bed of roses, that pain is going to go away, and life is going to get better and better. The problem is that difficulty will most certainly come, and some (many?) people will fall away from their spiritual path.

Of course, we don’t want to go too far and make them think that the Christian life is nothing but pain and sorrow, that along with the pain in life experienced by all human beings they now have the new pain connected with spiritual growth. But the risk, I believe, is worth it since we know that many young converts fall away from their faith when difficulties arise. But how do we do this?

Note: you can watch the blog on my YouTube channel.

Before I get into the Greek, I think it is helpful for us to stop and ask ourselves if we really believe this. Think about the things that we value, to which we aspire, what we respect in other people, what we secretly long for. How many of these things are actually “detestable” (NASB), an “abomination” (ESV), “revolting” (CSB) in God’s eyes? I suspect the list is rather long.

The Greek of this verse is pretty simple, but it does illustrate several points.

“What is exalted among men (τὸ ἐν ἀνθρώποις ὑψηλὸν)” shows the use of the article (τό) to turn an adjective (ὑψηλὸν) into a noun. The prepositional phrase ἐν ἀνθρώποις is in the first attributive position even though usually a prepositional phrase is in the second attributive position when performing this function. “Abomination” (βδέλυγμα) is in the predicate position and therefore we need to supply the verb “is.” Does ἐνώπιον simply mean “before” or does it carry the nuance of being in someone’s presence, hence, “in the sight of God”?

The translation is straight forward, and there is no real debate about what it means, although I suspect its application is much more difficult. But look at how much “interpretation” was needed, albeit it a simple enough interpretation that a first year student could do it. The myth of “literal” translation is that you can see the Greek structure behind the English. Good luck on even this simple of a sentence.

In an attempt to be as word-for-word as possible, sometimes some translations get lost in a sea of pronouns, making it difficult for the reader to understand what is being said.

The argument for doing so is that if the reader works at it, they can generally figure out what is being said. I understand that argument and see its value. However, part of translation — in fact part of writing in general — is to be understandable.

In regular writing, the reader should not have to work to figure out what the writer is saying. The reader may have to work to understand the concept behind the words, but not what the words are saying.

This is as simple as using specific language. If I use the word “right,” the reader has to process the semantic range of the word, and that makes it poor writing. Think of a scenario in which you are driving down a road and the passenger is giving directions. You ask if you should turn left at the next intersection, and the passenger answers “right.” What does that mean? Accurate communication requires unambiguous language, and so Robin, my wife, and I have learned to answer “correct,” or “turn right” or “turn left.”

I read Luke 11:22 this morning in the CSB. “But when one stronger than he attacks and overpowers him, he takes from him all his weapons he trusted in, and divides up his plunder” (also NASB, ESV, NRSV). Can I figure out who each of the third person pronouns is referring to? Yes. Should I have to? More formal equivalent translation answer, “Yes.” More functional equivalent translations say, “This is poor English, so something needs to be done.”

This will be my last post on this question. We have been talking about John 3:16 and how the first step in mentoring a new believer is to confirm their understanding of conversion. The last issue I want to raise relative to this discussion is that of counting the costs of following Jesus.

John 3:16 does not raise this issue, so I am a bit hesitant to raise it at all. But elsewhere Jesus clearly does ask future disciples to count the cost (Lk 14:28-33).

So there are two questions here. (1) Should we, I some way, make this part of our offer of salvation? (2) How do we do it? Here is one way I have explained it.

On the one hand, salvation is totally free. Paul tells the church in Ephesus, “It is by grace you have been saved, through faith — and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God — not by works, so that no one can boast” (2:8-9).

But the life of discipleship costs you everything. There is a path on the other side of the gate, and at the end of the path is eternal life. That path is the path of discipleship. Paul tells the church in Galatia that he has been crucified with Christ, and it is no longer he who lives but Christ who lives in him (2:20). He is saying that in going through the gate, he has become so united with Christ that he died to himself and he lives only for Christ. Jesus tells the disciples that if they want to follow him, they “must deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me” (Mark 8:34). The path of discipleship is about dying to yourself and living for God.

We have been talking about how we can discuss core Christian beliefs without “Christian” language. Before moving off this topic, I want to ask your help on one more thing.

Jesus says that God loved world and gave his only Son (Jn 3:16). Is the “only” important, and how do you explain it?

The premise I am working from is that if we have explained the gospel properly, the uniqueness of Christ doesn’t need to be an issue that takes up a lot of time. If we have talked about the issues of our separation from God, the consequences of living and dying separated from God, and our inadequacy to do anything about the separation, then most people are going to understand that the rift between God and us can only be bridged by God. Certainly not by us. If we have adequately explained the atonement, then discussions of Hinduism, Buddhism, Islam, Spiritualism, or any other “-ism” are unnecessary, at least at first.

Now, please do not misunderstand. I do believe in the uniqueness of Christ. My question has to do with how we present the gospel in a limited time frame with limited vocabulary. I am wondering if it would be better to explain the issues above and allow them to lead inexorably to the conclusion of the uniqueness of Christ

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If you have been following my YouTube channel, you will know that I am focusing on dispelling the myth that there is such a thing as a “literal” translation. Even interlinears can’t, technically, be “literal.”

As is always the case, when you are thinking about something, you tend to see it more, and I am seeing verses every day that illustrate my point.

One of the arguments that is made for “literal” translations is that they reflect the underlying Greek and Hebrew structure. As I have been saying, there are two issues with this.

1. If you know enough Greek to benefit from seeing the underlying structure, then you should be reading Greek. If you don’t know the original languages well enough, then I suspect there is more danger than advantage in thinking you see the structure.

2. I suspect there is not a single sentence in the Bible that actually does what the marketing claims. Take for example Luke 8:55. “And her spirit returned, and she got up at once. And he directed that something should be given her to eat” (ESV). Other than being poor English (we don’t start sentences with a conjunction, although Greek does), is that literal? Does this reflect Greek structure. Not entirely. Where does it diverge from the Greek? If you don’t know Greek, you don’t know where. So you are in a difficult situation in which you think you are sticking close to Greek structure, but you aren’t, and you don’t know where.

I am working through the definitions of the vocabulary in my textbook, Basics of Biblical Greek, and got to wondering about ἄνθρωπος. I am trying to lay out the vocabulary in a way that doesn’t mash all the different meanings of a word into one long definition but recognizes the categories of meaning most words enjoy.

I was surprised when I went to BDAG. It has nine categories of meaning, but the main two are:

Definition 1. “a person of either sex, w. focus on participation in the human race, a human being.” Glosses such as “person” (plural: “people”) and “human (being)” (plural: “humanity”) work well here.

Definition 3. “a male person, man.

To be sure, ἄνθρωπος in both the singular and the plural can refer to a human being(s) without reference to gender. That’s not the question. The question is, in the singular, can ἄνθρωπος refer to people in general as implied by the gloss “mankind”? What was surprising is that BDAG does not have a category for this meaning, and I can find no clear-cut example of this in the New Testament. The closest is John 2:25, but that does not prove the point.

Some of the references are to a single male who stands as an example to all people, but that still is not what I am looking for.

This is a really important issue, because the glosses we memorize tend to control our thinking about the basic meaning of a word and how we approach translation.

Help me out on this. Can anyone find a clear example of ἄνθρωπος in the singular referring to people in general and not to a single human being regardless of gender?

I am often asked why the ESV and NIV don’t capitalize “divine pronouns,” pronouns referring to God. For example, “For we are His workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works” (Eph 2:10, NASB).

There seems to be at least four reasons why not.

1. The originals did not mark divine pronouns. Hebrew letters are all the same height (אבגד), and the original Greek manuscripts would have been all capitals (ΑΒΓΔ), or what is called majuscules (uncials are a form of majuscules). Capitalizing what we believe to be divine pronouns adds an extra layer of interpretation on the translation, something translators shy away from (some more than others).

2. Capitalizing divine pronouns is a recent and sporadic practice. You don’t find it in the KJV (1611), the ASV (1901), or the RSV (1952). It appears that the first translation to do so was the NASB (1971, 1995). I do not have a copy of the original 1960 version of the NASB but I assume the 1971 is following the same style. (Can someone confirm this for me?) The NKJV (1982) also capitalizes divine pronouns. The HCSB (1999) did capitalize divine pronouns, but the practice was stopped in the CBS revision (2017). In other words, there is no real historical precedence as to why this practice should be followed.

The Facebook group on translations have pointed out that some relatively unknown translations do capititalize divine pronouns: Francis Kenrick (1860s); Concordant Version (1927); Francis Spencer (1937); and as you might expect, the Amplified Bible (1954). But none of these determine precedence.

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I am a bit hesitant to make the point below since I can’t find a commentary that agrees, but I also can’t explain the imperfect any other way.

When Jesus fed the 5,000 men (Mark 6:35–44), where did the actual miracle take place, in Jesus’ hands or in the hands of the disciples? Did Jesus keep handing out the bread every time a disciple came back to get more, or did it multiply in the hands of the disciples? If it is the latter, I have often imagined what it must have felt like to feel the bread multiply in their own hands. Must have been weird.

When I read some of the translations, there is nothing to answer my question. “Taking the five loaves and the two fish and looking up to heaven, he gave thanks and broke the loaves. Then he gave them to his disciples to distribute to the people. He also divided the two fish among them all” (NIV, see also ESV, NET, NRSV).

When I read the CSB, I see a clue. “Gave” is actually an imperfect. “He blessed the food and broke the loaves and He kept giving (ἐδίδου) them to the disciples.” (The NASB marks inserted words in italics; it is the “kept giving” that is important here.) According to this translation, the miracle happened in Jesus’ hands; it was the miraculous multiplication of the loaves that enables Jesus to keep giving bread to the disciples.

This struck me as strange since several of the commentaries say there is no clue in the text as to where the miracle occurred, but how else can you read the imperfect? Other translations agree. “He kept giving them to his disciples” (CSB). “Then, breaking the loaves into pieces, he kept giving the bread to the disciples” (NLT).

I really appreciate the feedback you have given me so far. Last week’s blog was especially helpful as one of the comments emphasized that in some cultures, the uniqueness of Christ does need to be emphasized.

We are still working through John 3:16 in an attempt to clarify how we present conversion, making sure that we say enough, but not too much. And so we come to the phrase, “that whoever believes on him.”

We have been talking about how we can discuss core Christian beliefs without “Christian” language. Before moving off this topic, I want to ask your help on one more thing. Jesus says that God loved world and gave his only Son (Jn 3:16). Is the “only” important, and how do you explain it?

The premise I am working from is that if we have explained the gospel properly, the uniqueness of Christ doesn’t need to be an issue that takes up a lot of time. If we have talked about the issues of our separation from God, the consequences of living and dying separated from God, and our inadequacy to do anything about the separation, then most people are going to understand that the rift between God and us can only be bridged by God. Certainly not by us. If we have adequately explained the atonement, then discussions of Hinduism, Buddhism, Islam, Spiritualism, or any other “-ism” are unnecessary, at least at first.

Now, please do not misunderstand. I do believe in the uniqueness of Christ. My question has to do with how we present the gospel in a limited time frame with limited vocabulary. I am wondering if it would be better to explain the issues above and allow them to lead inexorably to the conclusion of the uniqueness of Christ.

Sometimes we translators are accused of having an evangelical bias, of altering the translation of a passage to make the New Testament not contradict itself, or artificially conforming a New Testament citation to its Old Testament source.

It is an interesting charge, and is somewhat based on the assumption that the New Testament contradicts itself or that the New Testament authors were not able to quote their Old Testament accurately.

Mark 5:23 provides a good example of the former. This is the famous crux when it comes to inerrancy. Was Jarius’ daughter dead, or almost dead, when her father was speaking with Jesus?

The NASB translates, “My little daughter is at the point of death” (also ESV, NRSV); the NET has, “My little daughter is near death.” However, the CSB has, “My little daughter is dying” (also NIV, NLT). The Greek is ἐσχάτως ἔχει, ἐσχάτως meaning “to being at the very end, finally” (BDAG). The parallel in Luke 8:42 has the imperfect ἀπέθνῃσκεν.

The conflict is that in Matt 9:18 Jarius says, “My daughter has just died” (ἄρτι ἐτελεύτησεν). ἄρτι means “ref. to the immediate past, just (now),” and τελευτάω means “come to an end, die.”