Blogs

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.”

How can you tell when to use one of the special uses of a participle (or even an indicative verb)? When using “-ing” makes no sense. 1 Timothy 4:4 gives a good example of a conditional participle (“if”).

When talking about women in Ephesian leadership, Paul starts by saying, “A woman should learn in quietness, in all submissiveness (ἐν πάσῃ ὑποταγῇ).” The application is that “I do not permit a woman to teach or to exercise authority over a man; rather, she is to be in quietness.” But submissive to whom?

I was on Preston Sprinkle’s podcast the other day and I don’t know if it was something he said or just that I have been away from this issue for several years, but a thought popped into my head that is making me rethink my conclusion.

All words have a range of meanings, and σωτηρία can mean “salvation” or “deliverance.” I am not sure why the CSB chose “salvation” in this verse when the context is one of deliverance.

This is one of the more difficult exegetical decisions in the Pastorals and one upon which I have changed my mind since writing the commentary. Do the children have to have faith in Christ, or do they have to be faithful kinds of people?

Sometimes translators will change the order of Greek phrases for the sake of clarity but often at the expense of emphasis. Which is more important to you?

Romans 8:28 is a source of comfort for many in the midst of pain, and it can also be a challenge, even discouraging, for them as well. Part of the problem is that some translations mistakenly give the wrong impression of Paul's intent. Do “all things work for good,” or does “God work all things for good”?

You can watch this blog on YouTube and also my chapel address on the passage.

Narrative literature tends to follow the normal Greek rules of grammar, but Paul is famous for often writing in a very compact style that may appear to be incorrect grammar. This is why we always need good commentaries that deal with the Greek.

Sometimes in translating we have to think grammatically, to think through the structure of the passage before trying to actually translate it. This is why all Greek students should do two translations of every verse, one more word-for-word and one in proper English. Revelation 1:2 is a good test case.

This verse gives us two examples of how translation is often a compromise. Do you translate the words even though they don't mean anything, or do you help the reader understand? Do you keep concordance to help the reader see the play on words, or do you translate with proper English imagery? These are difficult issues.

One of the dangers of simply translating word-for-word is that sometimes the translation is not only awkward English but actually wrong, depending on your interpretation. In this verse, the often untranslated μή is the culprit.

When a masculine singular form refers to a male, “he” is a good translation. But when the referent is ambiguous such as an article–participle construction, then translators have to decide how they are going to use the word “he.”

One of the more misused verses in the Bible is 1 Timothy 2:9 and its supposed four-fold prohibition against braided hair, gold, pearls, expensive clothing. Among other things, almost every woman in the ancient world braided their hair, and to do otherwise was seen as a sign of rebellion. Just look at the statues of the time and you can see how women wore their braided hair. So what is going on in 1 Timothy 2:9?

Are you (singular) or all of you (plural) the temple of God, and what would it look like if we really understood this truth?

After speaking to the woman from Samaria, Jesus says to his disciples, “Do you not say, ‘There are yet four months, then comes the harvest’? Look, I tell you, lift up your eyes, and see that the fields are white (λευκαί) for harvest” (ESV).

I received an email the other day that said, “It's usually translated as though the fields are white, which is nonsensical anyway (ripe grain is never white). What is white?”

Sometimes when translators go more word-for-word, they (unintentionally) use an English idiom that has a different meaning than the Greek. They can kind of sneak up on you if you aren't watching.

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?

When the author to the Hebrews tells them to "remember" those in prison, what does he mean? Are they supposed to say, "Oh, that's right. I forgot" (i.e., punctilear), or is he saying that they should constantly think of those in prison (i.e., imperfective)?

If there ever was a question about salvation being by God’s grace and not as a result of something we do, just read Ephesians 1:1–10. Paul is falling over himself to emphasize that salvation is due to what God has done, not what we have done. And yet we are to do good works. What I want to talk about today is the dual use of γάρ.

1 John 1:4 is pretty easy to translate, but it does have a periphrastic construction (BBG 30:16). It also provides a good example of textual criticism and why you should never talk about a textual variant without talking about its significance.

Well-known verses are hard to translate. Even if the historical translation is a little off, committees are slow to change. 1 John 1:9 is one of those verses. The KJV reads, “If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.” One would assume that behind “to forgive” is an infinitive of purpose (se also the ESV, CSB, NLT). But its not; “to forgive” translates ἵνα ἀφῇ.

I am toying with the idea of starting a yet third blog that focuses on helping people review first year Greek. I will focus on just first year and, for the most part, not introduce second year grammar. You have enough to review without more stuff. I will be covering the passages in my Graded Greek Reader. Here is the first; please let me know if it is helpful.

There are quite a few exegetical difficulties in 1 John 1:1, starting with why the initial relative clauses are introduced with a neuter relative pronoun.

Many of the newer translations often don't use the word Behold.” Why? Are there other ways to translate the Greek word behind “Behold”?

1 Timothy 2:12 is one of the most debated verses today. My point in discussing it is not to enter into the general debate but to deal with an erroneous misunderstanding of the present tense. Most of what follows comes from my commentary on the Pastorals.

Ephesians 3:6 presents us with two issues. One is the oddity of words compounded with σύν. The other is with the theological implications of Jews and Gentiles being “joint heirs ... fellow members of the body ... and sharers together in the promise in Christ Jesus.” The mystery of the gospel is the combining of these two people–groups. Do you separate them in your mind to any degree? Why? Whatever we believe, we have to make sense of these three compound words.

Translations are divided as to whether Jesus used the whip to drive the people or just the animals out of the temple. And even if he used the whip on people, it doesn't necessarily mean he hit the people. Or does it? An interesting question whose answer depends on the gender of a word. This is best taught with a screencast and phrasing.

One of the more common constructions in Greek is the appositional construction. It is often downplayed in first–year Greek, but it is quite common. There are also two types of appositional constructions, the Simple Apposition and the Genitive of Apposition. The difference between the two is nuanced but important. We will be looking at three verses, Ephesians 1:1, 1 John 1:3, and Romans 4:11.

Most of us are familiar with Don Carson’s excellent book, Exegetical Fallacies, and most of us are aware of the common error called the “etymological fallacy.” But the question I am asking is can a word’s etymology ever be trusted to define a word?

Philippians 2:2 is a confusing sentence grammatically, although its meaning is clear. Fee comments that in “the apodosis there is an equally striking compounding of synonymous phrases of such nature that the ‘wayfaring person though a fool’ could not possibly miss the point.” Sentences like this make me miss Gordon, who just recently went home to be with his Lord.