I must apologize, my gentle snowflakes, for not having yet posted the sequel to my earlier piece on pluralization in Biblical translation, but I simply haven’t had the time or energy to finish it. I expect to post it within the next couple of days. In the meantime,  however, I would like to call to your attention an intriguing paragraph from an older book that I have obtained only in recent days, and which I’ve been reading with great delight: the late estimable Stephen Neill’s Jesus through Many Eyes: Introduction to the Theology of the New Testament (Minneapolis: Fortress, 1976; reprint, Cambridge: James Clarke Lutterworth, 2002). Bishop Neill writes:

The central section of the Epistle [to the Hebrews] deals with priesthood. T. W. Manson once made the brilliant suggestion that the key to understanding this part of the Epistle lies in the Epistle to the Galatians. The writer of Hebrews had read and understood that letter. He had grasped [St] Paul’s remarkable doctrine of the ceremonial Law as ‘ the interim’ between the period of the forward-looking promise, which was the period of Abraham, and the period of the promise fulfilled, which was the period of Jesus Christ. He said to himself, ‘How will that work out, if we apply it to the ritual law of sacrifice?’ He found that here too the principle of the ‘ interim’ applies—the Law made nothing perfect (7:19)” (page 109, brackets mine).

This is the most exciting suggestion I have stumbled upon in quite some time, as it tentatively brings together three  long-standing research interests of mine that have so far met at very few junctures: the interpretation of Galatians, the interpretation of Hebrews, and the relationship between the Testaments. Sadly, Manson will be of little help beyond his brilliant suggestion, as Neill ruefully comments in a footnote that this idea was offered to him by Manson in conversation, and that he was able to find no detailed exposition of it in any of his published writings. That is very unfortunate indeed, but no matter: I have still got some reading to do!

(Incidentally, T. W. Manson’s On Paul and John, which I encountered in Spanish translation when I was all of 16, was the very first book on Biblical theology that I ever read. That little book, which still is somewhere around here, gave me an appetite for that discipline that has not diminished with time. For that I thank Manson, and I find it quite  fitting that such a felicitous suggestion should come from him.)

As is well known, it is now commonplace for English Bible translations to make use of pluralization as a device to achieve gender-inclusive renderings. Scores of instances of this from several translations published within the past 20 years could be readily offered, but let us take St John 14:23 as an example:

ἀπεκρίθη Ἰησοῦς καὶ εἶπεν αὐτῷ· ἐάν τις ἀγαπᾷ με τὸν λόγον μου τηρήσει, καὶ ὁ πατήρ μου ἀγαπήσει αὐτὸν καὶ πρὸς αὐτὸν ἐλευσόμεθα καὶ μονὴν παρ᾽ αὐτῷ ποιησόμεθα.

“Jesus answered him, ‘If a man loves me, he will keep my word, and my Father will love him, and we will come to him and make our home with him’ ” (RSV).

“Jesus answered him, ‘Those who love me will keep my word, and my Father will love them and we will come to them and make our home with them’ ” (NRSV).

Also well known is the charge that pluralization does undue violence to the Biblical text by erroneously generalizing what is meant to be particular. Wayne Grudem’s objection to the NRSV’s translation of our passage is typical:

“The problem is that Jesus did not speak with plural pronouns here; he used singulars. Jesus wanted to specify that he and the Father would come and dwell within an individual believer. But the NRSV has lost that emphasis because of the plurals ‘those’ and ‘them’ indicate a group of people, such as a church. The words of Jesus have been unnecessarily changed in translation, and the meaning is different”¹.

Of course, D. A. Carson (pace Grudem and Poythress’ protestations to the contrary²) has decisively put to rest the basic linguistic thrust of such arguments in his superb (but regrettably out-of-print) study, The Inclusive Language Debate: A Plea for Realism (Grand Rapids: Baker, 1998). Hang on momentarily, however, to the notion that “the rejection of the generic ‘he, him, his’ obscures the personal application of Scripture”³, and that it therefore fundamentally distorts the meaning of the Biblical texts, for this line of thought is what concerns us here.

With this in mind, I wish to offer the following extract from Gordon Fee and Mark Strauss’ excellent little book, How To Choose a Translation for All Its Worth: A Guide to Understanding and Using Bible Versions (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2007):

“Evidence that pluralizing does not necessarily distort the meaning of the text comes from the Bible itself, since Biblical writers sometimes translate masculine singular generics with plural constructions. Consider these examples, where the apostle Paul quotes from the Old Testament:

In all three cases [St] Paul translated Hebrew singulars with Greek plurals. He clearly recognized that generic plurals in Greek accurately represent the meaning of generic singulars in Hebrew. He changed the form but retained the meaning”⁴.

To be sure, this is hardly breaking news: careful students of the Bible have doubtless noted at least as much in their own reading. Further, Strauss himself had previously included the above table in his book Distorting Scripture? The Challenge of Bible Translation & Gender Accuracy (Carol Stream: IVP, 1998)⁵, and even earlier in a paper presented at the 1997 annual meeting of the Evangelical Theological Society. Strauss’ paper, in turn, led Carson to comment on these texts in The Inclusive Language Debate (see below). Thus, notice of these clear and unambiguous instances of Pauline pluralization has long been available from a variety of sources—and indeed, they stand right there in the Bible for all to see.

As I revisited the literature of the “Bible wars” over the past several weeks, however, I kept coming back to our three Pauline quotations of the Old Testament with a sense that I was missing something in spite of my long familiarity with them. After much reflection, it finally dawned on me that there were some rather obvious parallels to be drawn (how could I miss them!) between the issues they raise for the contemporary debate and the subject of Apostolic exegesis. I ask your indulgence, then, in allowing me the following heuristic thoughts on the matter.

Now, frequent readers of this blog are no doubt aware that one of the chief burdens of The Voice of Stefan is to promote the cause of the normativity of Apostolic exegesis for our own reading and interpretation of Scripture. To quote once again our Infallible Hero, Moisés Silva:

“If we refuse to pattern our exegesis after that of the apostles, we are in practice denying the authoritative character of their scriptural interpretation—and to do so is to strike at the very heart of the Christian faith”⁶.

Yet this obvious truth is not so obvious to all, and it is not difficult in the least to find scholars who, in spite of their high confessional commitment to the authority of Scripture, would deny that it is desirable or even possible to reproduce the exegesis that the Apostles model for us in their use of the Old Testament in the New. In like manner also, though in our three Pauline quotations of the Old Testament we have not only an example of Apostolic exegesis, but indeed of Apostolic translation, they are not few who oppose the use of the translation method that St Paul modeled for us in these and other texts. E. Earle Ellis protests:

“Some suppose that if Christian apostles or prophets could elaborate the biblical text from, e.g. ‘he shall be my son’ (2 Sam. 7:14) to ‘you shall be my sons and daughters’ (2 Cor. 6:18), why cannot they do the same? They are not the first transmitters of the Scriptures to think like this.”

And then he proceeds to compare the unfortunate “supposers” with the villains of Bart Ehrman’s youthful nightmares, those scribes who took it upon themselves to smooth over and improve upon the manuscripts which they were copying⁷. Of course, Ellis denies that it is possible to reproduce the exegesis of the Apostles, which he considers a charismatic exercise exclusive to the apostles and prophets of the earliest Church (cf. Ephesians 2:20)⁸; it is no coincidence, I believe, that he also strongly rejects the possibility of reproducing the translational example of St Paul. But let us not get ahead of ourselves.

St Paul’s use of pluralization in our three passages is nothing short of remarkable on two counts. Firstly, he can hardly be accused of playing translational fast and loose with singulars and plurals, as witnesses his argument in Galatians 3:15-18, which depends entirely on καὶ τῷ σπέρματί σου (“and to your seed“) being in the singular. Secondly, it should be remembered that using the generic singular masculine in Greek would still have rendered the meaning of these passages inclusive—yet St Paul uses the inclusive plural here. Carson comments:

“I am certainly not suggesting the singulars may be translated into plurals indiscriminately. [ . . . ] But at the very least, one must conclude, from [St] Paul’s own habits, that the apostle does not think something of truth is lost when he renders a singular by a plural. In the last of the three cases (Ps. 32:1 in Rom. 4:6-7), he is quoting the LXX. The apostle neither condemns the translation nor reverts to the Hebrew to retain greater accuracy”⁹.

This brings us to my ultimate point: if, as Grudem argues, pluralization fails to accurately translate the Biblical text and effectively changes its meaning, can we accuse St Paul of distorting Scripture in the passages we have quoted? Would this not bring into question the authoritative character of his handling of Scripture? And would this not strike at the very heart of the Christian faith?

But this is not the end of the matter. The apostles do not pluralize their quotations from the Old Testament in every instance, and as Carson suggests, neither should we. Further, each side must resist the temptation to simply “[bless] its own translation preferences with divine sanction”¹⁰. But St Paul’s example does clearly suggest that pluralization does not necessarily distort the meaning and application of Scripture, as many contemporary critics aver. His example should also give pause to those critics who accuse others of so doing, lest they place the Apostle under their injunction, and thus also the Apostolic exegesis on which their faith is founded.

Of course, Apostolic exegesis interprets Christologically many of the singular masculine references in the Old Testament (especially in the Psalms). This poses a delicate problem for pluralization for which I’m not sure there is a satisfactory solution, but I will comment on this and other matters in my next post.

ENDNOTES:

1. Wayne Grudem, What’s Wrong with Gender-Neutral Bible Translations? (Libertyville: Council on Biblical Manhood and Womanhood, 1997), page 3. Available online here.

2. Vern Poythress and Wayne Grudem, The TNIV and the Gender-Neutral Bible Controversy (Nashville: Broadman & Holman, 2004), pages 467-478.

3. Grudem, What’s Wrong, page 3.

4. Fee and Strauss, How to Choose a Translation, page 105.

5. Cf. Strauss, Distorting Scripture?, page 126.

6. Moisés Silva, “The New Testament Use of the Old Testament: Text and Form,” in D. A. Carson and John D. Woodbridge (eds.), Scripture and Truth (Grand Rapids: Baker, 1998), p. 164.

7. Let me note in passing that altering the form of a text in translation according to the needs of the receptor language is hardly comparable to tampering with the particulars of the original text!

8. See, for example, Ellis’ Prophecy and Hermeneutic in Early Christianity (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1993), especially pages 173-187, and The Old Testament in Early Christianity: Canon and Interpretation the Light of Modern Research (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1991), especially pages 77-121.

9. Carson, The Inclusive Language Debate, page 116.

10. Ibid., page 108.

Was St Paul’s thought consistent? It can hardly be denied that the Apostle makes statements in his various epistles that appear to be in tension (or, some cases, even to flatly contradict) one another. Not a few scholars argue on the these grounds that it is impossible to read St Paul’s writings as a coherent corpus—with some, to borrow Moisés Silva’s words, raising questions “not just about the authority of apostolic teaching but about Paul’s basic intelligence.” But of course, this need not be so, as a sympathetic reading of the Pauline epistles readily demonstrates. Machen addresses the point as it relates to the claims of independence that St Paul makes for “his Gospel” in the Epistle to the Galatians, and concludes that far from being an impossibility, reading St Paul’s epistles as a coherent whole is necessary if we wish to avoid a myopic reading of these texts.

” . . . 2 Cor. v. 16, rightly interpreted, does not attest any indifference on the part of Paul toward the information about Jesus which came to him through contact with Jesus disciples. Such indifference, however, is also thought to be attested by the Epistle to the Galatians. In Gal. i, ii, Paul emphasizes his complete independence over against the original disciples. He received his gospel, he says, not by the instrumentality of men, but by direct revelation from the risen Christ. Even after the revelation he felt no need of instruction from those who had been apostles before him. It was three years before he saw any of them, and then he was with Peter only fifteen days. Even when he did finally have a conference with the original apostles, he received nothing from them; they recognized that God had already entrusted him with his gospel and that they had nothing to add. What can this passage mean, it is asked, except that Paul was indifferent to tradition, and derived his knowledge of Christ entirely from revelation?

“In answer, it is sufficient to point to 1 Cor. xv. 1-11. Was Paul indifferent to tradition? In 1 Cor. xv. 3 he himself attests the contrary; he places tradition—something that he had received—at the very foundation of his missionary preaching. “For I delivered unto you among the first things,” he says, “that which I also received.” The word “received” here certainly designates information obtained by ordinary word of mouth, not direct revelation from the risen Christ; and the content of what was “received” fixes the source of the information pretty definitely in the fifteen days which Paul spent with Peter at Jerusalem. It is almost universally admitted that 1 Cor. xv. 3ff. contains the tradition of the Jerusalem Church with regard to the death and resurrection of Jesus.

“The comparison with 1 Cor. xv. 1-11 thus exhibits the danger of interpreting the Epistle to the Galatians in one-sided fashion. If Galatians stood by itself, the reader might suppose that at least the resurrection of Christ, the central fact of Paul’s gospel, was founded, in Paul’s preaching, upon Paul’s own testimony alone. In Galatians Paul says that his gospel was not derived from men. But his gospel was grounded upon the resurrection of Christ. Surely, it might be said, therefore, he based at least the resurrection not at all upon the testimony of others but upon the revelation which came to him from Christ. Is it possible to conceive of the author of Galatians as appealing for the foundation of his gospel to the testimony of Peter and the twelve and other brethren in the primitive Church—to the testimony of exactly those men whose mediatorship he is excluding in Galatians? Yet as a matter of fact, that is exactly what Paul did. That he did so is attested not by the Book of Acts or by any source upon which doubt might be cast, but by one of the accepted epistles. The Epistle to the Galatians must always be interpreted in the light of 1 Cor. xv. 1-11.”

(J. Gresham Machen, The Origin of Paul’s Religion [1925; reprint, Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1973], pages 144-145.)

Also, for a masterful elucidation of whether St. Paul was a systematic thinker, see Moisés Silva, “Systematic Theology and the Apostle to the Gentiles” (Trinity Journal 15.1 [1994]:3-26), available online at the link, and in a reworked format as chapter 8 of Interpreting Galatians: Explorations in Exegetical Method (2nd ed.; Grand Rapids: Baker, 2001).

I.

Ah, my gentle snowflakes, it is once again that time of the year! In Orthodox churches near and far the words of St Paul’s Epistle to the Galatians (barring any reprehensible liturgical transgressions which need not concern us here) are being heard during the Divine Liturgy. The Sunday lectionary cycle has just treated us to three consecutive readings from that Epistle (1:11-19; 2:16-20; 6:11-18), and the Saturday lectionary cycle will soon offer us another three (1:3-10; 3:8-12; 5:22-6:2). It is no secret that, like the infallible Moisés Silva and the great J. Gresham Machen before him, I am utterly fascinated by the Epistle to the Galatians; it surely comes as no surprise, then, that year after year hearing its words in Church invariably leads me to revisit the Galatians literature at my disposal, which is fortunately not inconsiderable.

Chief among the works to which I turn is our Infallible Hero’s book Interpreting Galatians: Explorations in Exegetical Method (2nd ed.; Grand Rapids: Baker, 2001), which I enthusiastically recommend to all. To open this book is always bittersweet, however, given the opening paragraphs of its Preface:

Like every other book, this one has a history. The main title reflects the latest stage in that history, namely, a volume intended to provide guidance in the development of exegetical method. But in the beginning it was not so. Nearly two decades ago [=c. 1976] I envisioned a more ambitious work, consisting probably of two or three volumes, and covering in near-definitive form every major area in the study of Galatians. It would have established with firmer footing than before the original text of the epistle; it would have uncovered significant facts in the history of interpretation; it would have provided a cogent treatment of Paul’s use of the Old Testament; and so on.

I have not totally given up on some of those goals, but time (the awesome competitor) is against me. A few years ago, however, it occurred to me that there might be some value in publishing part of the material as a work-in-progress. If nothing else, such a move would facilitate conversation with other scholars, whose feedback could be of great help in further developing my research. (In other words, when the inevitable criticisms appear, I can conveniently respond that nothing here is meant in a definitive way—my statements here are all tentative!) Such a volume would have the additional advantage of making it possible to rework and bring together a few articles that have been previously published but that are directly relevant to the larger project.

Needless to say, the mere thought that Silva might never publish his multi-volume treatment of Galatians is enough to trigger the onset of despair in more than one expectant soul. Mercifully, we are not wholly bereft of resources if we wish to pursue Silva’s interpretation of Galatians: in addition to his Interpreting Galatians and a bounty of articles in journals and books, we have a full outline in his contribution to the New Bible Commentary, 21st Century Edition, and his rather thorough treatment of St Paul’s use of the Old Testament in Galatians in his contribution to the Commentary on the New Testament Use of the Old Testament. (Also, there exists a 13-CD lecture series recorded while Silva taught at Westminster Theological Seminary, and which I hope to acquire some day.) Still, it is surely much to be regretted that Silva’s extended treatment might never see the light of day, neither as a multi-volume work, nor even as the single-volume commentary once slated to appear as part of the BECNT series—though, as our friend Kevin Edgecomb has happily reminded us, hope springs eternal.

II.

Now, there are some youthful projects on a grand scale for whose abandonment we should be grateful. Take mine, for instance. Nearly a decade ago, I envisioned a homiletical commentary on the Epistle and Gospel readings for Sundays and Feasts. It would have established the ecclesiastical text of the pericopes with firmer footing than before; it would have identified the more significant lines of patristic and liturgical exegesis connected with each passage; it would have provided a cogent treatment of the canonical shape of the New Testament and its relationship to the shape of the lectionary; and so on. Though I am a little over three decades younger than our Infallible Hero, time (the awesome competitor) seems to have caught up with me too, and I have come to the conclusion that this is not a project that I could realistically complete in my lifetime. Of course, I have not totally given up on some of those goals: for instance, over the past year I have been actively engaged in the production of a Spanish translation of the Epistle and Gospel readings for Sundays and Feasts according to the ecclesiastical text for the growing Orthodox communities in Latin America. Beyond the time issue, however, I have come to question the wisdom of a project like the one I once envisioned. For one thing, patristic commentaries on Scripture are more readily available in English now than ever before: witness IVP’s Ancient Christian Commentary on Scripture and Ancient Christian Texts series, as well as Eerdmans’ fantastic series The Church’s Bible (whose volume on Isaiah, I should note, features the NETS translation by none other than Moisés Silva). The publication of patristic sermons is also on the rise: in addition to the old mainstays like the NPNF (for St John Chrysostom) and Toal, one can also turn to the admirable new volume of the complete homilies of St Gregory Palamas. Many similar examples could be mentioned.

More importantly, however, I am now concerned that a series of homiletical commentaries on the lectionary readings might wrongly communicate to its readers that we ought to preach only on those texts mandated by the lectionary. This is, of course, the received wisdom of the “liturgical movement” that swept the Western church (both Catholic and Protestant) in the middle of the past century, and which regrettably has its advocates even in Orthodox circles. But, as so many other notions of the liturgical movement, this betrays a grossly utilitarian understanding of worship: why read any Scriptural texts in worship that will not be the subject of a sermon? And if we ought to preach on these and no other passages, why stick with a lectionary that is so very repetitive in its choices? As is well know, this line of reasoning lead to the scrapping of the traditional Roman lectionary in the West in favor of a new 3-year lectionary that even features readings from the Old Testament. All of these texts are thematically linked to each other, thus facilitating the endeavor to preach from them. By contrast, our lectionary seems like a prehistoric beast: the Epistle and Gospel readings run on practically independent cycles, and the pairings of a given Sunday this year might not be the same as for the same Sunday the next!

What is missing from this utilitarian view of the lectionary is the crucial notion that reading and hearing the Scriptures in the Church is a complete act of worship in and of itself. Used in this capacity, then, Scripture only needs to be read and heard in order to be “liturgically effective” as such. Naturally, the Scriptures must also be preached, but it should be understood that this is a separate matter (that is, a separate act of worship) altogether. Now, one may preach on the Scripture readings of the lectionary, of course, but this is not strictly necessary; one may also (and I might, laudably and profitably, given the lean biblical diet of many of the people in our churches) preach according to the pattern commonly know as lectio continua. This does not lessen the importance of lectionary readings in the least, since, as we have noted, these readings fulfill an altogether different liturgical function—certainly in the Byzantine lectionary, the Gospel readings, for example, are carefully selected and arranged in a canonical shape that paints a definite picture of Christ, the Mystery of whose power and divinity in the Resurrection we celebrate every Sunday.

III.

So, in the end, there is every reason to render thanks that my youthful project will never be finished, but every reason to mourn the fact that Silva’s might not. Let us fervently pray that things will remain unchanged with the former, but that they will radically change with the latter, much to our benefit!

UPDATE: Paul Franklyn, Project Director for the CEB, informed us in the comments that the text originally featured on the new CEB website would be revised taking into account the concerns laid out below. I sincerely commend Abingdon for their gracious response to criticism and for their willingness to promptly put suggestions into practice. Further, I am pleased to report that the text quoted below has been removed from the website and that the new presentation of the CEB is much, much better.

As most of my readers know, the Common English Bible is a new ecumenical Bible translation project sponsored by Abingdon Press. News of the project appeared throughout the Biblioblogosphere last year, and over the past few days, the buzz has been about the release of the text of the St Matthew’s Gospel, which was finally made available for download yesterday. I expect to make a few comments about the translation later, but  at the moment I only wish to discuss the perplexing statements featured in the brand new website for the CEB, which was launched in connection with the release of its translation of the Gospel of St Matthew. Below are two blocks of text from the website’s front page, each followed by my comments.

A TRANSLATION FOR MAINSTREAM CHRISTIANS
While new translations abound for part of the church, for mainstream denominations the choice is limited. The NRSV revision began in the 1970s and is now 20 years old. It reads at an 11th grade level (which is higher than the typical college graduate), and it was a modest revision of the 1951 RSV. In the past 20 years alone, the English language grew from 300,000 words to over 1 million words. In our quickly changing world, we need a translation of Scripture that connects with the kind of people who worship and study the Bible in our congregations. The Common English Bible can connect people to God once again. What happens next, when we study the Scripture, can take our passion for loving God and neighbor to the next level.

The first question here is what exactly constitutes a “mainstream Christian” or a “mainstream denomination.” By any count, the Southern Baptist Convention is the largest Protestant denomination in the US, and news of the controversies at their annual convention often make the national news, so they have a large degree of public visibility. Further, they have recently produced the Holman Christian Standard Bible, and hardly lack choices of other translations to use. Evidently, then, “mainstream” denotes here neither numbers nor public visibility, since Southern Baptists have both of these, and the opening statement still does not apply to them.

A possible solution to the dilemma is that “mainstream” is used here as a synonym of “mainline,” a proposal that has much to commend to it: after all, a majority of the CEB’s translators and consulting readers hail from such denominations as the Episcopal Church, the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America, the United Methodist Church, the United Church of Christ, the Reformed Church in America, and the Presbyterian Church (USA). Traditionally African-American denominations are also well represented, as is even the Roman Catholic Church. But then the Church of the Nazarene, a 20th-century revivalist denomination of Wesleyan-holiness heritage, is represented by 5 translators and two readers—more than, for instance, the very mainline UCC. Further, there isn’t a single Orthodox translator or consulting reader in the CEB team, though I should certainly hope that the Orthodox Church is considered by all to be at least “mainstream,” and though there are more Orthodox in North America than all Nazarenes worldwide put together.

It is unclear, then, to whom does the CEB website actually refer when it speaks of “our congregations” and of the “kind of people (!) who worship and study the Bible” in them. What is clear, however, is that the CEB is being marketed with a regrettable “us versus them” mentality from the start, even though who falls into which category is not explained. Still, whoever belongs to the “us” can rest assured that the CEB will “connect [them] to God” and stir them to “take [their] passion for loving God and neighbor to the next level”—presumably in a way that the NIV will not (see below).

I cannot help but to comment on the incredible (and linguistically naive) statement that “[i]n the past 20 years alone, the English language grew from 300,000 words to over 1 million words.” Imagine that: a mind-boggling 700,000  new words coined in two decades, whereas the previous six or so centuries before that only managed to produce a mere 300,000! Clearly our Anglophone ancestors were lazy and unimaginative in the extreme. This sort of figure is usually produced by counting words in a dictionary or another lexicographical corpus and comparing the tally with previous editions of the same, or yet more fantastically, by swallowing whole the claptrap advanced by Paul J. J. Payack’s Global Language Monitor. But let us suppose for a second that English has really expanded at a rate of 35,000 new words per year over the past 20 years: how many of these new words do you suppose would find their way into a new Bible translation? There are no New Testament passages, alas, that recount how St Paul wrote his email to the Seattleites from his laptop while using the wireless connection at Panera.

OTHER TRANSLATIONS
Several Bible translations were produced over the past 20 years. However, most of these translations represent a particular conservative theology and are revisions or updates from prior translations (e.g., ESV from the RSV, NKJV from KJV, TNIV from NIV). The revision is generally less than 5 percent. Or they are paraphrases of the biblical text (e.g., The Message, The Voice, or the New Living Translation—a revision of the Living Bible). The NIV will be marketed again in this crowded conservative field in 2011, by merging the TNIV with the aging NIV, which originated among Reformed groups in the 1970s.

There are a couple of glaring errors in this paragraph. For one, we hear the same old tired canard that the New Living Translation is a paraphrase of the Biblical text. It is not. Like the Good News Translation, it is a functionally equivalent translation, not a paraphrase. Also, the New International Version had its origins among Reformed groups in the ’50s. By the ’70s, when the translation was finally published, the members of the NIV’s Committee on Bible Translation hailed from no less than 13 different denominations, all Evangelical, but not all Reformed or Calvinistic. (For details on how the NIV came to be, see this article by the late great John H. Stek.)

More importantly, however, here we learn where the perceived divide between “us” and “them” in the previous paragraph lies: it is something ominously called “conservative theology.” By this I suspect  that they mean Evangelicals and others with a so-called “high view of Scripture,” since they are the ones who by and large have produced the revisions mentioned above, and also the ones who make the most use of them. This is a shocking proposition on which to market a Bible translation, particularly taking into account the fact that Evangelicals and others with a “high view of Scripture” are the primary market for Bible translations. If it is hoped that the dying demographic of the mainline will suddenly become energized by the publication of the CEB and return handsome profits to Abingdon for their enormous expense on this project, I’m afraid that such hopes are built on quickening sand.

From the above we would be led to think that no individuals who espouse a “conservative theology” are involved in this translation project, but a brief glance at the list of translators and readers quickly dispels that notion. Indeed, three of the translators belong either to the Evangelical Free Church of America or to the Baptist General Conference, two bodies that unambiguously affirm Biblical inerrancy in their statements of faith. There are also several translators who serve on the faculties of Wheaton College, Fuller Theological Seminary, Asbury Theological Seminary, Bethel Seminary, Westminster Theological Seminary, and Denver Seminary, all of which are, at the very least, decidedly Evangelical schools who affirm a “high view of Scripture.” Why, then, stir the hornet’s nest of “liberal” versus “conservative” Bible translations? Why the gratuitous indictment of the “conservative theology” that several of the CEB’s own translators espouse?

I realize, of course, that framing the matter in this way likely responds to the recent news that a new edition of the NIV will be released in 2011, which is also the target publication year for the CEB. One can practically hear the terror behind the lines quoted above about “the aging NIV” and the hideous progeny that will surely result from its “merger” with the TNIV (which descriptions are, incidentally, very disingenuous). It is understandable that those responsible for marketing the CEB should want to have the first strike against its putative rival, especially when it said rival is a new edition of a translation that has over 300 million copies in circulation. However, the point that they have chosen to emphasize in their campaign isn’t only misleading (because the CEB is not a “liberal” translation, and plenty of “conservatives” are involved in its production), but it is also a classic example of shooting oneself in the foot.

My friend and former coworker Charles Wiese, who blogs over at The Lamb On the Altar, has lately been occupied with a most interesting exercise in sermon evaluation. After tracking down and listening to several sermons on St Mark 9:30-37, he grades each on the basis of the following criteria:

1. Does the pastor explain the text correctly? (+1 for explaining the text correctly, 0 for not explaining the text at all, -1 for explaining the text incorrectly)

2. Is the law preached lawfully? (+1 for preaching the law in all its sternness, 0 for not preaching the law at all, -1 for preaching the law as if it is doable)

3. Does the sermon mention Jesus? (+1 for saying true things about Jesus, 0 for not mentioning Jesus, -1 for saying false things about Jesus)

4. Is the sermon about what Jesus has done for us? (+1 if the primary focus of the sermon is about what Jesus has done for us, 0 if the sermon does not mention Jesus, -1 if the sermon is all about what we do for Jesus)

5. Does the creation of a wordle show a Christian focus in the sermon? (+1 for yes, 0 for sort of, -1 for no)

Thus far the series has proved to be rather enlightening, and not a little entertaining: quite frankly, I was thoroughly amused that a sermon by John Piper earned a measly 35% F by such Christocentric standards! I look forward to  many more sermon evaluations from Charles in the future.

The above criteria got me thinking, though. Charles is a confessional Lutheran, and it shows. So, what if we tried to apply some of these same criteria to an ancient Christian sermon that has historically made confessional Lutherans uncomfortable? Yes, you guessed it. Let’s look briefly at the Epistle of St James.

Needless to say, we are beset with difficulties from the beginning. To ask whether St James expounds his text correctly is to raise the bugaboo of his use of the Old Testament, which at least in one notable instance seems to be at odds with the use of the same passage by St Paul (cf. St James 2:14-24; Romans 4). The rest of his examples and allusions (some quite unclear) are likewise riddled with exegetical problems, and as often is the case, the modern reader can’t help but wonder how could the Apostles use the Old Testament in such a way. I suppose, then, that this earns St James a -1 in this department.

What about the lawful preaching of the law? Even a casual reader of the Epistle can’t help but notice St James’ insistent call  for his audience to be not only hearers but doers of the word. Indeed, he explicitly exhorts his audience to fulfill the royal law (another questionable application of the Old Testament; cf. St James 2:8; Leviticus 19:18), and goes on at length what manner of behavior constitutes this fulfillment. I’m afraid that here, too, St James earns a -1.

At long last, and with much difficulty, we reach a criterion which St James passes with flying colors, for he indeed mentions “our glorious Lord Jesus,” and says nothing false about him. Here, then, we may finally award him a +1.

Regrettably, however, the fourth criterion takes us back to where we started. Allusions to the saving work of Christ are notable for their absence, and there is a rather heavy emphasis on behavior throughout the Epistle. Again, here we must ruefully give St James a -1.

The final criterion calls for a wordle of the sermon, which I created on the basis of the RSV text of the Epistle:

Here we see that the chief words used in the Epistle are “God” and “Lord”; the latter is on the main a Christological term for St James (but see 3:9), and so we may safely conclude that, all appearances aside, the main focus of this ancient sermon is indeed Christian. This clearly merits a +1.

The grand total for St James, the Brother of God, is -1 or 40% F. He did slightly better than John Piper, who may find consolation in the thought that St James was an Apostle, and was therefore bound to do better!

Of course, there is a gulf between the way we should read a New Testament writing and the way we should evaluate a contemporary sermon, and the above is nothing but an affectionate jab at my good friend Charles. But I do commend to all his ongoing series of sermon evaluations for an insightful (and sometimes alarming) look at contemporary Christian preaching.

In recent days, and as a result of a recent comment thread in Aaron Taylor’s blog, I have spent some time revisiting Thomas Aquinas’ treatise Contra errores græcorum. Thomas composed this treatise in 1263/4 at the request of Roman Pope Urban IV, and it he engages the Orthodox Faith on the Most Holy Trinity on the basis of treatise compiled by one Nicholas, the unionist Bishop of Cotrone in Sicily. In spite of the revisionist readings of such modern ecumenically-minded writers as the late Dominican scholar Yves Congar, it is clear that, while not entirely unsympathetic to the concerns of the Orthodox, Thomas clearly and unambiguously regards the Orthodox confession of Faith in the Holy Trinity (particularly on the matter of the procession of the Holy Spirit) as, at best, imperfectly expressed and conducive to greater errors. In this post, however, I do not wish to discuss Thomas’ arguments, but rather taking my cue from the well-known saying referenced in the title, I will present two quotes from this treatise in which Thomas is, amazingly, right!

I. On Translation

“It is, therefore, the task of the good translator, when translating material dealing with the Catholic faith, to preserve the meaning, but to adapt the mode of expression so that it is in harmony with the idiom of the language into which he is translating. For obviously, when anything spoken in a literary fashion in Latin is explained in common parlance, the explanation will be inept if it is simply word for word. All the more so, when anything expressed in one language is translated merely word for word into another, it will be no surprise if perplexity concerning the meaning of the original sometimes occurs” (Contra err. græc., Prologue).

Yes, Thomas, obviously indeed! And this is not only true when it comes to translating “materials dealing with the Catholic faith” (Thomas has in mind here the well-known difference between the Greek hypostasis and the Latin persona, which he has discussed immediately prior to this), but also when translating the Holy Scriptures themselves. As Thomas aptly recognizes, the Holy Grail of Accuracy is no more tied to literal translation (“essentially” so or otherwise) than it is to the aberration commonly known as concordant translation: both can be, and often are, the source of considerable (and oft times unnecessary) “perplexity regarding the meaning of the original.” A good translator, then, will strive “to adapt the mode of expression so that it is in harmony with the idiom of the language into which he is translating.” A shocking concept for some, I’m sure! See, even Thomas understands this; why can’t you?

II. On the Filioque and Papal Supremacy

“The error of those who say that the Vicar of Christ, the Pontiff of the Roman Church, does not have a primacy over the universal Church is similar to the error of those who say that the Holy Spirit does not proceed from the Son.” (Contra err. græc. II, 32).

Now, this is a very interesting snippet, because in it and in the extended discussion that follows, Thomas seems to suggest that there is indeed a connection between Trinitarian theology and ecclesiology, and specifically, between the Latin dogma of the double procession of the Holy Spirit and Papal supremacy. Of course, he states the point negatively, suggesting that there is a connection between the Orthodox confession of the procession of the Holy Spirit from the Father alone and the ecclesiology of the Orthodox Churches, which categorically rejects Papal supremacy.

What is so interesting about this is that, in militant Americanist Orthodox circles, it is the received wisdom that emphasizing what is thought to be the connection between the Filioque and Papal supremacy is a 20th-century development. This notion is most clearly articulated by His Eminence, Metropolitan Kallistos of Diokleia, in the 3rd edition of his book The Orthodox Church:

“[Stricter] Orthodox writers also argue that these two consequences of the Filioque — subordination of the Holy Spirit, over-emphasis on the unity of God — have helped to bring about a distortion in the Roman Catholic doctrine of the Church. Because the role of the Spirit has been neglected in the west, the Church has come to be regarded too much as an institution of this world, governed in terms of earthly power and jurisdiction. And just as in the western doctrine of God unity was stressed at the expense of diversity, so in the western conception of the Church unity has triumphed over diversity, and the result has been too great a centralization and too great an emphasis on Papal authority.

Such in outline is the view of the Orthodox ‘hawks’. But there are Orthodox ‘doves’ who have significant reservations about several points in this critique of the Filioque. First, it is only in the present century that Orthodox writers have seen such a close link between the doctrine of the Double Procession and the doctrine of the Church. Anti-Latin writers of the Byzantine period do not affirm any such connection between the two. If the Filioque and the Papal claims are in fact so obviously and integrally connected, why have not the Orthodox been quicker to recognize this?” (page 216).

But it turns out that no less a Latin authority than Thomas agrees with the so-called Orthodox “hawks” on this point! And of course, it can be easily argued that so does St Mark of Ephesus, though unfortunately English-speakers without Greek or Russian have very little (if any!) access to his writings, which by-and-large have not been translated into English (but see here and here). And so we come once again to this: even Thomas understands this; why can’t you?

Surely most of my readers are aware already of Conservapedia’s recently announced “Conservative Bible Project,” which aims to remove what they regard as “liberal bias” from existing Bible translations in English. They intend to do this by “retranslating” (or, better, rewriting) the King James Version to clearly reflect, among other things, a free market understanding of the parables and a consistent use of words current in American conservative discourse—all of this, of course, carried out without regard to the original languages of Scripture or sound exegesis, but purely on the basis of ideological concerns.

Since this project is hosted in a wiki site, anyone and everyone is able to contribute to it who is willing to do so. Needless to say, no one is more conservative or loves the Bible more than the great Stephen Colbert, which is why he encouraged his minions just a few moments ago to turn to the “Conservative Bible Project” en masse and make him a biblical character. (I will add the video just as soon as it becomes available.) Of course, The Voice of Stefan does not encourage wiki vandalism, but I am intrigued to see what the results will be. But if Colbert’s proposal has also piqued your interest, you’ll have to wait to see the results: the response has been so enormous that Conservapedia has temporarily crashed.

UPDATE: Conservapedia appears to be back up and running again. And as promised earlier, here’s the video:

As others have already noted, the Federal Trade Commission (FTC) announced yesterday that it has adopted a series of revisions to its Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising which seek to apply existing laws on the subject to, among others, bloggers who receive cash or “in-kind” compensation for publishing a product review. Broadly according to the revised Guides (which are, however, to be applied case-by-case), these are now formally considered to be “endorsements” by the FTC. Given this, such bloggers are expected to fully and unambiguously disclose any compensation they receive from an advertiser in order to feature their product, and failure to do so may result in a fine of up to $11,000 per violation, as well as mandated reimbursements to consumers who may have been misled by deceitful and irresponsible endorsements from those who failed to disclose their material connection to the advertiser. This seems entirely fair to me.

The obvious concern here for bloggers on the Bible and Theology is the matter of the review books that many of us have received from academic publishers. Since these are sent at no charge, they may be construed under certain circumstances as “in-kind” compensation for an endorsement. Fortunately, I am unaware of any biblio- or theobloggers who fail to disclose the source of the books they review when these have been sent directly by publishers at no charge. Here at The Voice of Stefan, a complete listing of such may be found in the Books Received page, a practice also adopted by our good friend and reviewer extraordinaire Nick Norelli. Others, while lacking a full listing like those just linked, invariably acknowledge whether the book they are reviewing was received from a publisher, and this usually in the very first line of their review.

Of course, there is a long history of academic publishers sending review books to peer-reviewed journals at no charge. These titles are usually listed in a “books received” section in the journal in question (whence the name of my above linked page), and then are distributed to scholars and graduate students for review. In the end, reviewers usually either keep these books or else dispose of them according to their better judgement (and indeed, during my days at Baker Book House, I came across several books marked “For Review” by a number of journals, some of which now grace my bookshelves). Needless to say, these reviews can be alike positive, negative, or somewhere in between, and the fact that the book was received for free plays no part in the reviewer’s assessment.

It stands to reason that the practice of sending books to bloggers for review is an extension of this long-standing practice—as a matter of fact, review books sent by publishers started to appear in the biblioblogosphere among established scholars. Later the practice spread to graduate students, and later still to non-specialists, whether trained to a certain degree or with no formal training at all, but all interested (and often widely read) in the subject matters these books address.

Somewhere along the way (rather early on, if my cynicism may be trusted), some publishers realized that, since many of us turn to the internet to search for reviews of book we do not know, this was a very effective marketing strategy—particularly in view of the fact that many bloggers, unaware of the long history of journal reviews described above, feel that it is their bounden duty to speak of the books they have received only in glowing terms. Some have gone so far as to hastily review books they have not read (!), while others have resorted to writing two-paragraph “reviews” that amount to little more than a glorified blurb. In these cases, the haste is usually related to a misplaced desire to comply with the time limits of a marketing campaign, while the invariably positive review is tied to misguided gratitude for the free book received. In these cases, one might indeed say that an advertiser has effectively bought a glowing endorsement for the measly price of book production and shipping.

Of course, many publishers send bloggers their books in good faith, and many of us receive them on the same terms. But I encourage those who have fallen into the trap described above to realize that when a publisher sends you a book, they are taking a risk. While it is often true that many of us request books that we assume to be excellent treatments of their subject, it no less true that in more than one occasion these same books are a disappointment. Do not hide that fact out of a false sense of duty. A negative or mixed review is the risk that publishers take when they send along a book for critical examination. What you truly owe to them, to yourself, and to your readers is to produce a review that evinces critical engagement and that does not shrink from making criticisms, even pointed ones. Haste is not a help in this endeavor, but rather a pernicious foe. In all these respects, the example of our friend Nick Norelli is a fine standard against which other reviewers in biblioblogdom would do well to measure ourselves: note, for example, his recent two-part review of John J. and Adela Yarbro Collins’ King and Messiah as Son of God.

Returning to the revised FTC Guides, another concern for biblio- and theobloggers relates to the rather widespread use of link-based rewards programs such as Amazon Associates and the WTS Bookstore Blog Partners. This is more clearly an instance of a “cash” compensation for advertisement, and again, I believe that the FTC does well to expect from bloggers full disclosure of their participation in these programs. Unfortunately, due to carelessness and the sparsity of my posting over the past several months, I have neglected to announce that earlier this summer I decided to sign up for both of these programs. I do not, of course, place any gratuitous links on this blog to earn rewards of any sort, but given that I often mention books here for which I invariably provide links, I decided to give these programs a try. I have since decided to do away with the Amazon Associates links, since that system operates on a sales commission basis with which I am not entirely comfortable; but I will continue to link to the WTS Bookstore whenever they carry a book I happen mention, as they often provide generous excerpts from these titles, and their system is simply based on the number of clicks that a link generates. I will also include a logo on the sidebar to clearly identify The Voice of Stefan as a participant in the WTS Blog Partners program. In the meantime, be at peace: I have earned exactly nothing towards a purchase at the bookstore!

Welcome to “Mondays with Moisés” at The Voice of Stefan! Of course, there simply aren’t enough days in the week to praise the excellencies of our Infallible Hero, but this occasional feature will grace your computer screens, well, whenever I wish to post a “Sundays with Silva” but can’t manage to do it by the end of the Lord’s Day. This installment, in which Silva introduces an article for the OPC’s magazine New Horizons addressing criticisms to the NIV from various quarters, seemed appropriate to me in light of the recent news regarding that translation.

“When the editor of New Horizons asked me if I would be interested in writing a response to criticism of the NIV, I hesitated briefly. After all, I was not involved in the translating of the NIV. Moreover, I think the NIV is far from perfect. During the past few years, I have been involved in the production of an ‘NIV-like’ translation of the Bible into Spanish. This work, which involves very close comparison of the NIV with the original, has alerted me to numerous renderings that appear unsatisfying, problematic, or even plain wrong. In other words, my own list of objections is probably much longer than that of the most outspoken critics of the NIV. So why then would I agree to write this article? Simply because my list of objections to other versions would be even longer. This is not to say that all available English translations are bad. Quite the contrary! We are richly blessed by a wide variety of versions, almost all of which—when compared with good translations of other literature—have to be regarded as clear and accurate, but never perfect.”

(Moisés Silva, “Reflections on the NIV,” New Horizons [June 1995], quoted by Kenneth Barker, “Hearing God’s Word Through a Good Translation,” in Arie C. Leder [ed.], Reading and Hearing the Word: From Text to Sermon. Essays in Honor of John H. Stek [Grand Rapids: Calvin Theological Seminary and CRC Publications, 1997], pages 30-31.)

When I first read these comments by Silva a little over a decade ago, I couldn’t help but to nod in agreement. At that point, I had been preaching regularly in English for a little over a year, and since the Bible in my congregation’s pews was the NIV, I had finally resigned myself to using it in all my preaching and teaching. As you might guess from the tone of my comments, this was a difficult decision to make: I had never been a fan of the translation, and in fact had gone out of my way to avoid it until I it was (in a sense) forced upon me. But by the time I laid down my preaching Bible to enter the waters of Baptism in the Orthodox Church a few years later, I had developed a very deep appreciation for the NIV born from struggling to preach and teach its words week in and week out. Oh, there still were plenty of exegetical decisions made by the Committee on Bible Translation (CBT) that seemed less than fortunate to me, and a few that appeared to be so thoroughly mistaken as to be shocking; however, having became thoroughly familiar with the way the NIV works as a translation through relentless use, I learned to trust it as a basically reliable (though far from perfect!) text for preaching and teaching. To borrow the words of our good friend Kevin Edgecomb,

“There’s nothing dirty, little, or secret in my love for the NIV. From start to finish, most particularly in the savvy yet vanishingly rare instance of having hired a style consultant, the NIV project was exemplary. I’m often in awe of their skill at paraphrase. The quality of the English is a perfect middle, not too elevated, not too, er, plebian. It’s a great translation, and probably the most successful yet.”

Although I haven’t used the NIV as my primary Bible for any purpose in several years, I was enthusiastic about the release of the TNIV in 2005, and as early readers of this blog might recall, I spent several months trying to obtain a copy of it (which were, alas, not all that easy to find in Puerto Rico). Once I finally got a hold of one, I was impressed by the quality of the translation: indeed, many of the exegetical mistakes of the 1984 edition that had previously troubled me were now corrected, and it was on the whole a superior text to its older counterpart. The story of the regrettable and unedifying campaign of disinformation to which the TNIV was subjected has been told many times, and I need not repeat it here. Now that it had been announced that the TNIV will be retired from the market, I can only repeat what Rick Mansfield so poignantly said in his eulogy for that translation: “[A]s for me, I’ll always remember the TNIV with great fondness. It was surely the best translation that nobody ever read” (emphasis his).

All that said, I have great hopes for the NIV 2011 project, which will replace both the 1984 NIV and the 2005 TNIV. Of course, it will not be a perfect translation. There will doubtless be many problems with it—at least as many as there are with any other translation out there in the market. But we have seen already in the TNIV what the CBT can accomplish when it sets itself to the task of revision, and on those grounds, there is no reason to be anything but hopeful.