I had a great time at Lifeway a few days ago, and as I was leaving they handed me an HCSB study Bible. Pretty impressive, especially in its use of color. Not sure I like their lack of formatting on poetry, but time will tell. Anyway, I thought I would use it for my daily devotions for a while; it is fun to develop a better feel for the translation.

In talking about his ecstatic experience, Paul says that this “man” (i.e., himself most likely) “was caught up into paradise and heard unspeakable (ἄρρητα) words that a person may (ἐξὸν) not utter.

There are two ambiguities in this verse. (1) ἄρρητος can mean “that cannot be expressed, since it is beyond human powers, inexpressible” (BDAG), or “of someth. that must not be expressed, since it is holy, not to be spoken” (BDAG). It is a NT hapax

(2) ἔξεστιν likewise can mean “to be authorized for the doing of someth., it is right, is authorized, is permitted, is proper,” or, “to be within the range of possibility, it is possible.

So was Paul unable to express what he saw, or was he not permitted to tell?

This is not a big deal, but the NIV struck me as a little strange here. Jesus cries out, "Eli, Eli, lema sabachthani." The soldiers think he is calling for Elijah, and one of them offers Jesus some wine vinegar. The others respond, “Now leave him alone. Let’s see if Elijah comes to save him.”

Two things.

Every once in a while we find a Greek word or expression that simply cannot come into English. We want to translate every word, but in some cases, no matter what you choose, you create the wrong impression of what was being said.“Woman” is one of those words.

Jesus heals a crippled woman, and says to her, “Woman, you are freed from your disability” (Luke 13:12; ESV). There is no getting around that the fact that the use of “woman” sounds pejorative to our ears, and yet there is nothing pejorative at all in the Greek γύναι. After all, this is what Jesus calls his mother (John 2:4; 19:26). It is the term Jesus uses to address the weeping Mary at the tomb (John 20:15).

I was reading through the Parable of Sower and noticed something strange. It isn’t a big think, but isn't it nice when Greek slows you down and you start to notice God’s words?

The parable starts with the emphasis on what was sown. “And as he sowed, some seeds (ἃ) fell along the path” (Matt 13:4). “Seeds” is assumed from the relative pronoun. The antecedent is not explicit, but it is implicit from the infinitive (ἐν τῷ σπείρειν αὐτὸν).

And yet, why is it neuter. Notice that the neuter continues in the word ἄλλα (vv 5, 7, and 8). One of the things I learned latter in my Greek career is that often a word’s form can be explained by a word that has been omitted in the sentence. The trick is to find the implied word being referenced by the explicit words.

Here is a great example of the ambiguity of personal endings. In Mark 13:29 Jesus says, “So also, when you see these things taking place, you know that he is near (ἐγγύς ἐστιν), at the very gates ” (ESV).

Any first year Greek student knows that ἐστιν is third singular, and that the personal ending does not designate gender. So what is the subject of the verb?

As usual, the rule is context. What does the previous verse talk about? V 28 talks about learning the lesson from the fig tree, and the preceding verses talk about the return of the Son of Man, Jesus. So it is natural that the ESV would use “he.”

I was teaching on the end of Mark 1 a couple weeks ago in Sunday School, and I hadn't read the text as carefully as I should have. I was using the NIV; because I am more familiar with this story in the ESV, I wasn't ready for the surprise.

So lesson #1: prepare for Sunday School by reading the entire passage in the Bible version from which you are teaching.

It is the healing passage of the man with leprosy. He says to Jesus, “If you are willing, you can make me clean.” V 41 in the NIV says, "Jesus was indignant. He reached out his hand and touched the man. 'I am willing,' he said. 'Be clean!'”

"Indignant"? That's what caught me off guard. Every other translation has something like, "moved with compassion."

Every once in a while I am asked a question that surprises me because it alerts me to an exegetical option I have never thought of or read. (I am surprised quite often.)

The question is whether James 5:14 could be speaking of a person who is weary in their Christian walk (struggling, flagging in faith or courage); when this depressed person calls for the elders, their prayer will most assuredly help restore him to spiritual health and dedication to the Lord.

The verse is generally understood as being about a person who is “sick” (ἀσθενεῖ τις). The elders pray and anoint the person, and “the prayer (εὐχή) offered in faith will restore (σώσει) the one who is sick (τὸν κάμνοντα) and the Lord will raise him up (ἐγερεῖ).”

One of the greatest exegetical conundrums for me is this final phrase in the Lord’s Prayer. My assumption is that when asked how to pray, Jesus would have given an answer that was understandable. But then again, I am not Jesus.

As we all know, Jesus starts by orienting us to God, his immanence and transcendence. “Our Father in heaven.”

We then confess his supremacy in all things: his holiness, kingly rule, divine will. And we conclude by admitting our dependence on him for all things: sustenance, forgiveness, and protection from sin and Satan (assuming τοῦ πονηροῦ is substantival).

I have always said there is always a reason for any one specific translation. For all the versions out there, and all the different verses, there always seems to be a specific reason why the translators did what they did in every verse; there are no random translations.

That’s why I am stuck on this one. In the NIV we read, “Teacher, don’t you care if we drown?” (Mark 4:38). The disciples are on their way across the lake, Jesus is sleeping in the back, and the storm hits. They are frightened when they realize the size of the storm, and surprised that Jesus apparently is not concerned. “Teacher, don’t you care if we drown?”

I was reading through Mark 5 this weekend in preparation for Sunday school, and it was interesting to watch the prepositions. It illustrates how you have to watch context carefully in choosing just the right translation. I will be using the NIV to illustrate.

One of the strange literary characteristics of the gospel of Mark is the apparently inordinate use of εὐθύς. It is an adverb I memorized as meaning “immediately.”

It occurs 59 times in the NT, 41 being in Mark, 11 of them in chapter 1. The explanation I have always heard is that Mark was written for the Roman church, and part of the Roman psyche is an admiration for being a person of action. So Jesus does this, and then immediately rushes off to do that. It is exhausting just reading Mark 1.

First class conditional sentences are formed with a protasis (the “if” clause) with εἰ and the indicative (any tense). Their basic meaning is to say that if such-and-such is true (and we will accept the truth of the protasis for the sake of the argument), then such-and-such will occur.

Of course, that does not mean the protasis actually is true. It could be a lie, or it could just not be true. In fact, the second class conditional sentence (“condition contrary to fact” it is also called) is identical in form to the first (except that the verb in the protasis is past time) and the protasis is clearly false. “If you believed Moses, you would believe me, for he wrote about me” (Jn 5:46). They clearly do not believe Moses.

I am back from Asia, safe and sound. I discovered, among many things, that the native language has four tones, and the differentiation in tones is as significant to them as a change in consonants would be to us. I was trying to say “Thank you” and almost no one recognized my feeble attempt. But when I changed the tone just a tad, their eyes lit up.

It is kind of like slurring the end of a German word. It doesn’t mean much in English since most of the meaning is front-loaded in English, but for German it is significant how a word ends.

This is one of the most frustrating passages in the Bible. I think that every time I taught Romans, I changed my mind on what this verse means.

Paul is arguing that “it is not the hearers of the law who are righteous before God, but the doers of the law who will be declared righteous” (v 13). Everyone agrees that the following two verses are an illustration of this truth, and the declaration of righteousness picks up at v 16 where Paul concludes that this will happen “on the day when God judges  the secrets of everyone according to  my gospel through Christ Jesus.” This is why the NIV puts vv 14-15 in parentheses. So far no problem.

I was trying to make sense of Revelation 12 yesterday in my quiet time.

John has covered his second cycle of events (chapters 8 – 9) and the Interlude (chapters 10 – 11). Now comes a focused part on Satan, the two beasts, and the destruction they bring (chapters 12 – 14).

In 12:1-6 we see the Messianic community (a woman) giving birth to Jesus, and the appearance of the red dragon. The woman flees to the wilderness where she is protected by God for 1,260 days.

In the Pastorals, Paul talks about “healthy (ὑγιαινούσῃ) teaching.” ὑγιαίνω has a range of meaning that is impossible to bring into English and provides an interesting study in semantic range.

ὑγιαίνειν, “to be healthy,” occurs twelve times in the NT, all but four in the PE (Luke 5:31; 7:10; 15:27; 3 John 2, all denoting physical health). This corresponds with BDAG’s first meaning: “to be in good physical health, be healthy.”

The other meaning of ὑγιαίνω, according to BDAG, is “to be sound or free from error, be correct,” and this is where BDAG and many translation see the word’s meaning in the Pastorals, using a term like “sound” (ESV, NIV, NASB, HCSB, NRSV, KJV, NET).

I have been playing around with word meanings lately. How do words get meaning? We understand that words have a semantic range, a bundle of meanings, and it is the context of the passage and not the word’s etymology that is determinative of meaning.

And of course there is the dreaded "Etymological Fallacy,” the idea that a word’s meaning in any context is determined by the morphemes that make up the word itself. In fact, all you have to do is suggest that perhaps a word’s etymology still has some affect on its meanings in any context, and you can hear the ridicule in the blogs.

I came across an interesting situation this morning in Sunday School. (You remember Sunday School? That mid-level entry point into our mega churches?) The NIV translates Mark 3:21 as, “when his family heard about this… “?

"Family" is a translation of  οἱ παρ᾿ αὐτοῦ, which is to say, rather strange. In which sense are these people παρά him?

We often distinguish between two types of translations, a formal equivalent and a dynamic equivalent. Formal tries to stick to the Greek/Hebrew grammar as closely as possible while still making sense in English. Dynamic focuses more on meaning; as the NIV says in its preface, “we have sought to recreate as far as possible, the experience of the original audience.”

I wonder if we should actually think in terms of three categories, the third being “natural language.” A natural language like the NLT appears to give virtually no attention to “how” it was said in Greek and Hebrew; it focuses its attention fully on conveying the same meaning in English and using English vocabulary and grammar that is totally natural to English speakers.

Perhaps this is a little overstated, but it did get your attention.

I just got back from the annual meeting of the Evangelical Theological Society. One of the things I wanted to see is the new release of the standard Greek text of the New Testament, the NA28. I ran into a grinning Wayne Grudem, and he told me about Jude 5.

This is the only place I recall that the ESV diverged from the NA27 Greek text. The ESV reads, “Now I want to remind you, although you once fully knew it, that Jesus (᾽Ιηοῦς), who save a people out of the land of Egypt, afterward destroyed those who did not believe.” The NET and NLT also have “Jesus.”

Conjunctions are tricky things. In standard Greek style, sentences begin with conjunctions. The conjunction shows the connection with the preceding sentence.

We have a different system in English. We use punctuation, paragraph markers, and even headings in our Bibles, to show the connection with previous thoughts. To make it even more difficult, English style does not want to start a sentence with a conjunction.

Let's add to the difficulty. In English syntax, there is an implied relationship in a series. If I say “A” and then I say “B,” there is an implied, logical, sequential relationship between “A” and “B.” So why would we need a conjunction before “B”?

One of my students asked this rather fundamental question last week. Good question, and I hadn’t thought about it before, and I need your help to answer it.

BDAG says that the name Ἰακώβ (יַעֲקֹב) is “the un-Grecized form of the OT, is reserved for formal writing, and esp. for the patriarch. It is also spelled Ἰακούβ.

The Greek lexical form Ἰάκωβος, with an alternate spelling Ἰάκουβος, is the Hellenized form of Ἰακώβ. 

The normal English translation is “Jacob”; “James” does not appear in the OT (of the ESV). “Jacob” occurs in the NT 26x, always of the patriarch except for the two references to Jesus’ paternal grandfather (Matt 1:15f.).

Having been on the ESV and now on the NIV translation committee, I have met some amazing translators, men and women who love the Lord and his word.

But without diminishing my friends in any way, I have to tell you about the most amazing translator I have ever met.

Several years ago I was able to travel in Nepal and India, speaking at a several pastor conferences, and meeting people in their indigenous surroundings and asking what BiblicalTraining.org could do for them.

A friend of mine recently pointed out a blog by John Piper on some upcoming changes (more properly, clarifications, precision) to his book, Future Grace, Revised Edition: The Purifying Power of the Promises of God.

One of those clarifications is going to be on the nature of faith in Heb 11:1. As you know, this is one of the more important verses in the Bible as it helps to define what “faith” is. I am always looking for new and clearer ways to define Christian terminology so that people outside the Christian tradition can understand — and for that matter, people within the tradition who tend to repeat words they don’t always understand. That’s what caught my eye.

This passage also points out the challenges of finding just the right English word for a Greek word. Sometimes, there just isn’t a word.

This is one of the most difficult passages in the Bible to interpret, and especially to apply in a church situation. I have already written on this relative to elders, but I came across an interpretation the other day that just floored me.

I received a desperate email from a lady who was being told by her elders that she was not allowed to divorce her unfaithful husband. And the reason was that in the Greek (so they claimed), Jesus was really saying that “But I say to you that anyone who divorces  his wife, even including (παρεκτὸς) sexual immorality, makes her commit adultery” (Mt 5:32).

First of all, if someone claims that the Greek says something that none of the translations say, dismiss their idea and walk away. Perhaps if they are commentary writers or scholars, their argument might have some validity; but I am always suspect of someone who bases their interpretation on any basis that you are not able to check. An appeal to the Greek can be this type of baseless appeal.

Last week I raised the issue of anger, and whether it is ever appropriate. The Greek is in Eph 4:26 where Paul writes, ὀργίζεσθε καὶ μὴ ἁμαρτάνετε.

ὀργίζεσθε is, I think, clearly an imperative, although techniclly it could be an indicative. We are told to get angry. The other side of the coin, and a necessary side — have you ever seen a coin with only one side? — is that anger is to be balanced with not sinning.

I have been thinking about anger lately. I was raised in a traditional Christian home and church, and like many people believed that anger was wrong. Period. Anger was the response of people who who weren’t mature in their faith and had not experienced the sanctifying work of the Holy Spirit. I don’t remember being taught this explicitly, but I suspect it was part of our cultural environment.

Every once in a while you will see an inflected form that can be parsed two different ways. If all you are looking at is the Greek word, you can get tricked.

In 1 John 4:7 John says, “Dear friends, let us love (ἀγαπῶμεν) one another, because  love is from  God.” In 1 John 4:19 we read, “We love (ἀγαπῶμεν) because he first loved us.”

Both forms are identical, and the question I received was why is one translated with “let us love” in all the translations and the other as “we love.”

This verse hit me pretty hard this morning: “Those who consider themselves religious and yet do not keep a tight rein on their tongues deceive themselves, and their religion is worthless” (James 1:26).

I have often said that gossip is the native tongue of the church, and what this means is that a large number of people who attend religious services Sunday morning need to be told that their “religion is worthless.” But what does that mean?