Translation

There is a peculiar change in the 2011 NIV. The 1984 says, “Who is he that condemns? Christ Jesus, who died—more than that, who was raised to life—is at the right hand of God and is also interceding for us.” The 2011 edition begins the verse, “Who then is the one who condemns? No one.” Where does the “no one” come from? Not the Greek.

1 Corinthians 15:24 presents an unusual problem. Paul’s argument is that Christ’s resurrection is the firstfruits of all who have died (v 20) and that in Christ all will be made alive (v 22). This will happen in a specific order, first Christ and then those who belong to him (23). Then comes the end, εἶτα τὸ τέλος (v 24a).

ξύλον is a difficult word to translate, although from its entry in BDAG you wouldn’t think so. It gives three basic meanings: (1) Wood; (2) Something made of wood, such as a pole, club, stocks, cross; (3) Tree.

Gal 3:13 in the NIV reads, “Christ redeemed us from the curse of the law by becoming a curse for us, for it is written: ‘Cursed is everyone who is hung on a pole.’” The use of “pole” is, shall we say, unexpected since we know the shape of the cross. How could Jesus have been hung on a pole when the wounds in his hands require a cross?

Every once in a while I come across a verse that is simply impossible to translate. No matter what you do, you over- or under-translate, or at worst, mistranslate. 2 John 1:12 is one of those verses. “Although I have many other things to write (γράφειν) to you, I do not want to use (οὐκ ἐβουλήθην) paper and ink (διὰ χάρτου καὶ μέλανος); instead, I hope to be with you and speak face to face, so that our joy may be complete.”

The “etymological error” is defining a word by it morphemes, its little parts. There are times when context supports that a word still carries the meaning of its parts. εἰσέρχομαι (εἰς + πορεύομαι) means “to go into.” ἐξέρχομαι (ἐξ + ἔρχομαι) means “to go out.” But we can’t assume this is always the case. Context must support the etymological meaning. This is a common rule in exegesis, which is why the standard translation of our passage mystifies me.

Let’s have a little fun in the LXX. I have been especially interested lately in what it means to “wait on the Lord.” It seems to me that waiting is not passive; it is not going into neutral. It is a very active experience, often harder than “doing” something. It involves work and trust. Psalm 27:14 reads, ὑπόμεινον τὸν κύριον· ἀνδρίζου, καὶ κραταιούσθω ἡ καρδία σου, καὶ ὑπόμεινον τὸν κύριον.

The Jewish widows were being given preferential treatment over the Hellenistic widows, and the Apostles say, “It would not be right for us to neglect the ministry of the word of God (καταλείψαντας τὸν λόγον τοῦ θεοῦ) in order to wait on tables (διακονεῖν τραπέζαις.)” (NIV). I guess they are drawing “ministry” from the later διακονεῖν and from v 4 (“the ministry of the word,” τῇ διακονίᾳ τοῦ λόγου) even though there is no Greek word behind “ministry” in v 2.

One of the more interesting expressions in the Pastorals is ἔργον ἀγαθόν. It presents a conundrum whether you translate it as “good deeds,” “‘good works,” or with a phrase.

I hesitate to blog on this verse again. When I did previously I was inundated with people driven more by their theological convictions than the text. But I came across a preacher preaching from The Passion Translation, and it was so egregious I decided to say something about this “translation.”

Paul likes to use word plays, and this literary device rarely makes its way into our translations. Most languages cannot express a play on words, and the translator needs to decide between meaning and style. What would you do?