I inherited a jet pack from my dad. It’s just like the kind you see in the old movies – silver with two little rocket engines on the back. The thing is pretty incredible. My dad tells me that you can fly over 100 mph with this thing. He heard so many stories about his grandfather’s exploits with the jet pack – how he would do circles around Philly and race birds and take his wife for rides. This thing is really cool!
Right now it’s hanging in my garage. It’s been there for years. I’ve never tried it out or really thought much about it, but I know it’s the real deal. The stories are so compelling, and they’ve been handed down through my family for years. I don’t have to take the thing out for a spin to prove anything to anyone. It’s the genuine article.
A friend of mine came over the other day, and I took him in the garage to show him my prized possession. He was impressed! But then he had the nerve to ask me if it really worked. “Of course it does!” I told him. I was blown away that such a good friend of mine would mock my family history in such a blatant way. Needless to say, I don’t speak with him anymore. He’s not welcome in my house.
But I can’t say that his comments didn’t make me think. I mean, I’ve never seen this thing used, and neither has my dad. I don’t know what kind of fuel it takes or how to start it. For all I know, it could be made of cardboard and Elmer’s glue. I guess I could try to see if it works, but in all honesty, that’s just too much work and too scary. I guess I’ll just chose to have faith that the stories are true.
Why do we approach theology and doctrine the same way? We have these “truths” that have been handed down to us through the years, and we refuse to test them. We don’t want to hit them with any hard questions because we’re scared they will just shatter – and if one aspect of our faith shatters, what’s to stop the whole thing from being blown to bits?
Socrates said, “The unexamined life is not worth living,” and in the same way, unexamined doctrine is not worth holding. So take some doctrine that you or your faith tradition holds dear. Hold that doctrine in your hand. Look at it. Study it. Ask some tough questions of it. Find out what the critics of that doctrine have to say and listen to them. See if their tough questions are valid. Maybe they are. Maybe they aren’t. In the end, your faith will be better for it. You will understand why you believe what you believe or you will realize what you believe is not as essential as you thought. And that’s OK. Things change.
With any doctrine or theology, there comes great complexity, and to ignore that complexity and refuse to examine the doctrine or theology is dangerous. That’s one of the things that I would like to do with this blog: talk about the complexities of issues that we take for granted. We always want to push people to take stands on issues – “Are you pro-gay marriage or anti-gay marriage? Are you pro-life or pro-choice? Do you believe in hell or don’t you? Are you a liberal or a conservative?”
Dear God, please help us to be OK with complexity. Help us to understand that you created this world with many shades of color and not just black and white. Help us to be a little less “absolute” and a little more loving, gracious, and connected to you. Help us to be flexible not for flexibility’s sake, but for the sake of the gospel. Help us to stop examining the leaves and start seeing the forest.
Help us to identify doctrine cautiously and with great fear and trembling instead of harshly with no regard for those around us.
Help us to start now.
The book of Acts is a complex narrative. Let me just start with that. It follows many characters on their journeys to spread this new movement of God through the Roman empire. It’s epic and exciting, through-provoking and humbling. It’s a huge book! But bear with me for a second while I oversimplify it.
If you take a birds eye look at Acts, you see a bunch of people who think they have heard a new Word from God – specifically that Jesus is God revealed, and his death and resurrection signify a new way of life and the inbreaking reign of God. Being commissioned by Jesus to tell everyone they can about this new Word, they set out to make history. Despite stubbornness from the apostles (they didn’t really feel like leaving Jerusalem), this new Word spreads.
At several points, Luke reminds the reader of the great opposition these people face as they spread this Word. It comes from a lot of places, but mostly, it comes from the Jews. Think about that. This new Word from God was birthed out of the Jewish religion, and this new Word, while being connected to that parent religion, is also different from it. So naturally, the Jewish leaders don’t like it and fight it whenever they can. But the fact remains that it is from the same roots. Some would say it is the fulfillment of the parent religion.
But the point is that the Jewish leaders did not like the idea of anyone claiming he or she was given a new Word from God. They were the proud keepers of God’s Word, and to suggest that God was working something new was absurd.
A lot of them became quite hostile to these revolutionaries, claiming they were distorting the truth and destroying God’s name. Pretty serious stuff! But not all of them were quite as hostile. Gamaliel said to his angry associates about these revolutionaries, “I tell you, keep away from these men and let them alone; because if this plan or this undertaking is of human origin, it will fail; but if it is of God, you will not be able to overthrow them—in that case you may even be found fighting against God!” (Acts 5:38-39).
So Gamaliel seemed to be open to the idea that these people could be hearing a new Word from God, and even if he didn’t agree completely, he was wise enough to know that if it was empty and Spirit-less, it would fail.
What’s the point? I believe first of all that God did not stop speaking when the canon of scripture was closed. God continues to speak, and we can hear a new Word from God even now. I also believe many people today are hearing a new Word and trying very hard to make it known – but these people are experiencing hostility from the “mother religion”, i.e. fundamentalist Christianity.
Let me be a little transparent here – This blog post is very much a reaction to conversations I’ve had with others who are hostile to the idea that the Christian faith needs reframing. In particular, these people are hostile against the likes of Rob Bell, Brian McClaren, Shane Claiborne, and others.
So what am I really trying to say? I’m not exactly sure to be honest. Since this post is mostly reactionary, it’s hard for anyone reading it to get the idea of what I’m trying to say because it’s very one sided. I admit that.
All I can say is that if you really think that people are not hearing a new Word from God right now, at least have the wisdom to shut up and wait and see if this new Word holds water. If it doesn’t, it will die out. If it does and you fight it, you’ll be fighting against God.
What if there was someone who could look inside you – look into your soul and see its color? What if you could go to this person, and she would tell you whether or not your were really a good person… if you really had a good heart? And this person was completely reliable. This was not a parlor trick to make money. This was the real deal – objective if you will. How cool would that be?
Now imagine this person exists, and you go to her, and she says, “Yes, you are pure of heart.” How profoundly would that change the way you live?
Doubt would be gone. The scream of guilt would be muted. The feeling of “not being good enough” would fade away. You would know that you are pure, good, healthy; that nothing was wrong with you.
Is that appealing to you? It is to me.
So often I feel like I’m a bit of a fraud. I feel like the downstairs of my “house” is in good order and ready for guests, but the upstairs is a mess, and no one is allowed up there. Maybe I’m the only one that feels this way, but I have a feeling that I’m not.
So what if someone could look at you and tell you, “You’re fine! Your house is clean. Let the guests roam!” To me, that would be incredible.
But isn’t that kind of what the sacrifice of Jesus has done for us? We can start seeing ourselves as “pure of heart,” no matter what kind of impurity we’re used to. Jesus is that person. He looks at us and says, “Run along now. It’s all good. Forget that old stuff. Live this new stuff.” How incredible!
And when we say, “But I didn’t make the bed! I didn’t put my clothes away! I think I left the seat up!” Jesus says, “Hey. It’s all good! Forget it. I took care of it.” I like that. God help me to live like that.
I read a blog today from a current Fuller student about the Bible, and here is one thing this person wrote:
“We must recognize that it is the Scriptures- not our conscience, not culture, not religion, etc.- that tell us about God and are the foundation upon which Christian thinking is built.”
(I won’t post his name or blog to keep it anonymous)
My thoughts: Why? Why is scripture the only thing that informs our faith? Is that really how it works? What about the billions of Christians who did not or never will have access to scripture? How is their faith informed?
Think about it: The Bible as we know it wasn’t really compiled until around 300 CE, and even then, there were few people who had access to it. There have been a lot of advancements in making the Bible more accessible since then, but the concept of having 10 different versions of the Bible within arms-length is an extremely new concept in the scope of Christian history.
So can we really say that the Bible is the only thing that informs Christian faith? Can we even go further (as the above quote) to say that conscience, culture, and religion have no bearing on how we live our faith? Is that really how God intended it? Did God want us to turn to the Bible for every little thing, or do we truly believe that God gave the Holy Spirit to guide us?
Rob Bell nails it pretty well in Velvet Elvis with his discussion on “Binding and Loosing.” If you haven’t read that, read it… but to summarize, “binding and loosing” is the act of determining a concrete response to God’s revelation. In other words, those who bind and loose determine how the Christian community will live out the commands of God based on God’s revelation. For Bell, it is the community of believers who do this difficult task of binding an loosing with the blessing of God (in light of Matt 18).
That’s kind of a terrible summary of a complicated argument, but the point he makes is that it is the Christian community, based on its interpretation of God’s revelation that plays a large part in how we experience this life of faith.
The Bible is not the sole contributor in this equation. Our conscience, culture, and religion play a big part.
…trying to do something different than “Christianese…”
Let’s start talking about getting rid of some of the common phrases in the Christian world. Here’s a few that bug me.
1. Heavenly Father
OK, maybe it’s not that bad of a phrase, but let me do what I do and pick it apart. Heavenly – not of this world, not earthly… not present, not near, separated, etc. Father – male, dad, patriarch, ruler, etc. Father is a good word, but not for everyone. So do we want to associate all those things with God? Do we really think about all those things when we say “Heavenly Father?” Or are we just saying it because other people have said it? Could using the phrase make people think God is distant and not present? Could some associate the negative feelings they have of their own fathers with God? Maybe…
Sure, I’m being a little over the top here, but come on! There are better phrases to use. How about “Loving God,” or “Gracious God,” or anything else that isn’t androcentric and outdated.
2. Man
As in “God’s ways are better than man’s,” and “Mankind,” and “With man, this is impossible, but not with God.” Can we finally get away from this androcentric, patriarchal stuff? Could it be that women would like to be included in the whole mix? I mean, haven’t we tried to keep them oppressed for long enough? I know what you’re saying – “When I say ‘Mankind’, I’m referring to men and women.” OK, so why not say, “Humankind?” Maybe women don’t want to be lumped in to a category that bears the name of the all-powerful (tongue ripping through my cheek), all-fallible “man.”
Same thing goes for “Brothers.” Paul used that word like crazy, and I’m sure he meant “brothers and sisters…” but that’s the culture in which he lived. His culture revolved around the man, so saying “brothers” to refer to men and women was what he did. We don’t live then. We live now. Let’s try to be a little more gender inclusive. I know we can do it!
3. Just
Whenever someone says the phrase, “Let’s say a word of prayer,” I always think that the most common “word of prayer” is probably the word “just.” Think about it. “Dear God, we just come to you today ask you to just…” and the “justs” keep coming. What’s up with that? Are we trying to seem humble in our prayers? Are we trying to minimize our requests? “God, I’m just asking for this…” Or has it become a filler word, like “um” 2.0?
Maybe we could really become a little more “just” as Christians. That would be a good thing. Instead of saying “just” all the time, we could practice a little justice in this world.
4. Relationship
As in, “I don’t believe in religion. I believe in a relationship with Jesus.” Great concept, and I’m sure it was really profound when it was first uttered. But I think the time has come to retire that phrase. We do believe in religion. It’s what we do. It’s the particular way we have decided to have relationship with God. It’s the structure that we choose to use to respond to God’s revelation. Yeah, religion can and often is a really bad thing, but not always. It’s necessary.
5. Personal Relationship
Taking it one step further – the notion of a “personal relationship” with Jesus Christ. What does that mean? Is that even biblical? God works in communities. Jesus saves the world. The Bible is a book written to and meant to be read in community. This personal stuff seems to be more of a product of American Christianity than anything else. Yes, there are personal aspects to our relationship with Jesus, but there are also corporate/communal aspects, global aspects, etc.
6. What does the Bible have to say about _____?
If you read my previous posts, you probably know where I’m going here. Why have we turned the Bible into the answer key/owner’s manual for everything with which we come in conctact? “Abortion? What does the Bible have to say about that?” “Republican or Democrat? What does the Bible have to say about that?” “Speeding on the freeway? What does the Bible have to say about that?” Are we really OK with stripping the Bible of all it’s beauty to turn it into some kind of how-to on life? Should we just consider it normal to treat the Bible like we do the US Constitution? Pastors have become Judges who interpret biblical law instead of shepherds who help people experience the kingdom of God here and now. There’s a lot more here, but I won’t get into it.
That’s a good start. Have any others you’d like to share?
I’ve been thinking about the idea of inspiration as it relates to the Bible.
Simple idea. Someone slaps down the NIV and says, “The Bible is the inspired word of God.”
OK, but what does that mean? You may say, “The authors were inspired by God to write.” Fine. But that’s not the end of the story. Much of what is written in the Bible are compilations of oral tradition. So how does inspiration fit with that? Were the people who passed on the oral tradition inspired to do so?
Maybe. But what about the compilation of the 66 books of the Protestant Bible? When the men who compiled the canon of scripture at the various councils in the 3rd to 5th century inspired to do so?
Probably. But what about textual variants? Were the scribes who decided to clarify bits and pieces of scripture throughout the centuries inspired to make those clarifications?
Probably not… So what about the people who decided to translate the various books into English? Were they inspired when they chose which of the many textual variants to use as the most accurate to what was originally written? In other words, were the scholars who saw three different copies of a certain passage, and who ultimately chose one, inspired to do so?
I guess. What I’m trying to get at here is that the idea of “inspiration” is a tricky one. When we hold our English version, it’s been in so many hands and so much scrutiny has already been placed on it that it’s tricky to say it is inspired.
Sure, Paul said that scripture is “God-breathed,” but what scripture did he mean? Revelation? James? Luke? Acts? His own writings? How did he know what would eventually be considered the canon of scripture some 300 years later?
I won’t even address the question of what the Bible is inspired to do. That’s a different post altogether.
It’s a tricky thought, really. And it deserves a little attention. Ultimately, I think the Bible as we know it stands the test of time. It’s an incredible book, and I’m more and more amazed when I think about how God is revealed in its pages.
The following is an interpretive assignment I did for a class at Fuller called “Exegetical Method and Practice” with Marianne Meye Thompson. I’m posting it mainly to link it to another discussion I am having with friends on facebook. I had to transliterate the Greek, and I’m not so good at that, so forgive me. Also, interpretive assignments ask a lot of questions and don’t draw very many conclusions, so you’ll notice that it doesn’t have a thesis or conclusion. It’s more of an exploration.
Mark 10:13-16 – Interpretive Assignment (23 January 2007)
In chapter 10 of his narrative, Mark provides a pericope detailing the circumstances surrounding an event in which people brought children to be blessed by Jesus. On the surface, the passage seems to promote ministry to children and encourage a blind, “child-like” reception of “Christianity” into the believer’s heart. However, a closer reading may provide a slightly different conclusion.
This specific narrative in Mark is well documented by all of the synoptic writers. Both Matthew and Luke place the narrative in their gospels, and both stay true to Mark’s order of events in terms of context. Mark and Matthew place Jesus in Judea at the time of the narrative (Mark 10:1, Matt. 19:1), but it is not clear this information affects the interpretation of the passage. It seems the pericope stands as an independent unit and does not hinge on the previous or following passages. Since it is not found in a series of parables or a discourse of Jesus, it can stand alone. Mark seems to be using a story to promote an aspect of the kingdom of God. However, there is somewhat of a thematic context preceding and following Mark 10:13-16. In chapter 9, the disciples (specifically Peter, James, and John) witnessed the transfiguration. Following the description of this beautiful and powerful event, Mark provides several stories of failure and rebuke on the part of the disciples. Was Mark trying to show contrast of heavenly glory versus earthly mediocrity and failure? It would seem so considering the evidence of the pericopes dealing with human failure (i.e. failure to heal the demon possessed boy in 9:14ff, failure to understand the hierarchy of the kingdom of God in 9:33ff, Jesus’ rebukes of the disciples and others in 9:39, 9:42, 10:14, 10:38, 10:49, etc.).
An interesting question arises with the use of apsatai (third singular present middle subjunctive from apto) which carries several meanings depending on the usage. In BDAG apto can mean “to kindle” or “light”, “to make close contact, to touch, cling to, have sexual contact, etc.” In Mark 10:13, the term most likely refers to “touching as a means of conveying a blessing.” Were the people bringing the children to Jesus so that he might provide some kind of rabbinical blessing, or did they recognize him as the Messiah and perhaps wanted some kind of messianic blessing for their children? If the term does not carry the connotation of blessing, were they just bringing their children to Jesus for healing, or simply to have their children held by a “celebrity?” Whatever definition fits best, the question remains as to why the disciples did not want this to happen. Was it beneath their transfigured Lord to do such a thing? Was there a limited amount of time? Were the children interrupting Jesus during an important theological teaching?
The textual variant in this passage seems to be an attempt by scribes to soften the disciples’ actions. The highly supported reading of the text leaves the direct object of the disciples rebuke unclear. They could be rebuking those bringing the children or the children themselves. Some manuscripts added epetimon tois prosferousin or some form of that phrase to clarify that the disciples were rebuking the ones bringing the children. Still, why did the disciples feel the need to stop what was happening? Were children considered less than human or outcasts of society?
Jesus becomes angry with the disciples actions and rebukes them, insisting that the children be brought to him. Three times in this passage Mark uses paidion to refer to the children instead of the more common teknon. BDAG defines paidion as “a child, normally below the age of puberty” while teknon usually refers to a descendent or offspring. Mark wants his readers to know that these children are young. Were they babies? Was this a custom of the Jews to bring a baby to a teacher at a certain age to be blessed?
After the rebuke, Mark provides the theological truth intended by the narrative. Jesus states “the kingdom of God belongs to such as these. Truly I say to you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God like a child will not enter it at all” (10:14b-15 NASB). Using the strongest negation possible (ou ma) Jesus, in a sense, says it is completely impossible to enter the Kingdom of God in any other way. This use of ou ma should cause the reader to pause and consider what was just read. But what does Jesus mean by the phrase, “receive the kingdom of God like a child?” Does this mean to receive it with blind faith? Does this mean to receive it happily and care free? Does he have something else in mind? Is this concept similar to the one found in Matthew 10:16 when Jesus said “so be shrewd as serpents and innocent as doves” (NASB)? Does he mean something along the lines of what Paul wrote in Romans 16:19b: “I want you to be wise in what is good and innocent in what is evil” (NASB)? Is it the innocence of the child that is to be mirrored? Is Jesus teaching the concept of “rebirth” which he describes to Nicodemus in John, 3:3?
Could there also be a nuance in the wording of the passage? Could Jesus mean, “whoever does not receive the Kingdom of God like I am receiving these children will not enter it,” as opposed to the more common reading of, “whoever does not receive the Kingdom of God like these children receive the Kingdom of God will not enter it?” If this is the case, the focus should be on the actions of Jesus and not the actions of the little children. Perhaps the reader should be considering the way Jesus reaches out to the poor, the widows, women in general, and children. Perhaps the reader should be reminded of the parable of the sheep and the goats in Matthew 25:31ff where the most important thing is the actions of believers to the poor, sick, jailed, hungry, etc. To enter the Kingdom of God, one must accept those to whom the Kingdom belongs, which in Mark 10:14b is the little children. This reading seems entirely possible, except when compared to Matthew 18:3-4 when Jesus is quoted as saying, “Truly I say to you, unless you are converted and become like children, you will not enter the kingdom of heaven. Whoever then humbles himself as this child, he is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven” (NASB). With this reading in mind, one could interpret Jesus words in Mark in a similar manner, making the Mark passage promote a child-like faith. However, in Matthew 18:5, Jesus also says, “and whoever receives one such child in my name receives me,” (NASB) providing evidence for a social justice reading of Mark 10:13-16. It would seem the passage could go either way.
Finally, Jesus takes the children in his arms and blesses them. This action is common for Jesus. He often touches the socially outcast, the poor, the sick, etc. In Mark 1:41 he touches the man with leprosy. In Mark 5:41 Jesus touches the dead girl and brings her back to life. Jesus often touched those whom society considered outcast or unclean. Perhaps Jesus is showing his disciples in this passage that the ministry of the Kingdom of God is a ministry of social justice.
Further evidence can be found in the fact that Jesus demonstrates his teaching at the end of the passage. He instructs his disciples to receive the kingdom of God as children, and then he receives the children.
Cited: Danker, F. W. A Greek-English Lexicon of the New Testament and Other Early Christian Literature. 3d ed. (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2000)
I’ve been having a few email conversations with friends about the topic of moral authority as it relates to the Bible. I have so many incomplete thoughts about this right now – but a few that have taken shape as a result of these conversations and some things I’ve been reading.
The basis of all of this is the approach that many Christians have with the Bible. I think this approach is summed in this common question from Christians: “What does the Bible have to say about _______?” The question carries the idea that the Bible is some kind of manual for life; that everything has a solution or answer in the Bible, and that solution or answer is relevant at face value to a contemporary Christian community.
Another way to state the standard approach of Christian’s today is that the Bible is a type of trump card in nearly every area – science, history, morality, ethics, etc. Science says one thing – the Bible says another. Culture says one thing – the Bible says another. In every case, the idea is that the Bible wins.
I have a problem with this. The problem seems to be that many of us Christians read the Bible – an ancient document translated from many manuscripts that are written in languages that are no longer used – at face value with no regard to our own preconceptions.
Please hear me on this: I am not saying the Bible is not relevant in any way. I’m saying that it is a living breathing document that is interpreted by the community of believers and applied to that community in the way the community feels is best, and all of this is through the guidance of God’s Spirit. One must approach the book as aware of preconceptions as possible and know that it is God who speaks, and not the Bible itself.
To make the Bible a type of owners manual for all humanity, in my opinion, severely cheapens it. The Bible is meant to be so much more. It is the beautiful story of how God has redeemed and is redeeming all of God’s creation back to God.
Back to the idea of the Bible being the moral authority – that also is something that ignores what the Bible is intended to communicate. And is seems so often, even in the Bible, that it is culture that determines morality, and the Bible expresses the cultural morality not as authoritative, but more as an expression of how the community of God understood God.
Take marriage as an example. The definition of marriage has changed throughout history – even through the Bible. The are points in the biblical narrative that polygamy is acceptable, when at other points, marriage is defined as being one man and his wife (the wording of “his wife” is very intentional). Both are presented in the biblical drama as somewhat normative. It seems to be more what the culture deemed as acceptable than some kind of moral authority the Bible is expressing. Now, marriage is between one man and one woman – as equal partners (admittedly, this is not true everywhere, but seems more and more true with relationships in the US). Again, this is a redefinition. One might say a marriage based on the standard patriarchal attitude in the Bible is now morally wrong – and I believe that’s right and good! Sure, the morality expressed in the Bible would be in contradiction to this, but cultural morality would say otherwise. And why not? Why is it so bad that the community would determine what is moral for that community at that time instead of forcing the morality of a dead culture on people today?
These are just some incomplete thoughts, and I hope to come back to them later… maybe with a few of your own comments in mind.
I’m a Fuller Seminary graduate. That’s right – on Saturday, June 13, 2009, the degree of Master of Arts in Theology was conferred to me. President Mouw said something about it not being official yet, but I wasn’t listening.
So the big question that everyone (and I do mean everyone) is asking me is some form of “now what?” I complete the degree, so what’s the next step? Pastor a huge church? Join the faculty of Duke? Write the next “Velvet Elvis“? Make Bono look like a lazy politician?
Let me give you a short history of my educational life:
In the Spring of 1999, I began to work on a Bachelors degree in Pastoral Ministry at Valley Forge Christian College. The goal at that point was to some day become a pastor. I remember very clearly that I wanted to be a senior pastor and not a youth pastor. I’m not sure why that’s important right now.
In December of 2002, I finished that degree and moved to Camp Hill, PA to become the executive director of a singles ministry called CROSSFIRE. Not exactly pastoring, but close enough for the time being. I got to do some great stuff with the group of people I felt most called to work with – college age men and women.
In April of 2004, I decided I wanted more in terms of education. I enjoyed working with college age students, but I wanted to have more impact on them as a professor than as a pastor in the local church. To make that a reality, I needed more education. I looked into Fuller Seminary (really the only school I seriously considered), made the decision with Nikki to move to California to attend, and started making the necessary steps to make that decision a reality.
In March of 2006, we made it out to Pasadena, and I began a Masters degree at Fuller. The original goal was to move into a PhD soon after getting the MA so I could work toward becoming a professor.
That brings us up to today and the question at hand – What’s next?
Honestly, I’m not totally sure. I can tell you two things for certain; one more philosophical and the other more practical.
During the graduation ceremony, I had a bit of an epiphany as to what I feel is my calling in life. I devised a crude missions statement on the spot. That missions statement is as follows:
“To cultivate well-informed Christians who are capable of deep and critical thought.”
That I know for sure is what makes the gears move in my head. But how does it play out in my life? Sure, at some point I would love to teach at the university or seminary level – to be able to directly influence people to engage in critical thought. That’s just not a reality for me right now. I need more education.
Which leads me to the more practical aspect of “what I know.” I will be starting a full-time position at Fuller as a recruiter beginning July 6. This feeds directly into my mission because Fuller is a place that cultivates Christians think deeply and critically. As a recruiter, I can have an indirect influence on the intellectual development of these people as I encourage them to consider a seminary education.
Why am I writing all this? Well, mostly for myself I guess. I don’t want to forget what makes me tick. I don’t want to have an epiphany and then lose it because I forgot to give it much thought. So here it is… and as a byproduct, you get to read it (if you’ve even lasted this long).
But maybe there are more out there like me. I know a few Fuller students and alum read this blog… you may be in the same position. The reason you started seminary has become obsolete, and the future is not clear. Be encouraged. There is something inside of you that drives you. Find what that is and be creative about how you can live that out.
It’s one of the most dreaded phrases we as teachers/pastors/ministers can utter. “What the Greek word _____ really means is…” I’m sure those of us who are regular church goers have heard some variation on this phrase many times. Here are a few reasons why it’s a bad idea to utter those words:
(side note: I will mostly write about the NT and Greek for a couple reasons. One is that I have mostly studied Greek, so I’m closer to that topic. The second is that I don’t find the problems I will explain below to happen as much with Hebrew and the OT. I’m not sure why this is the case.)
1. Most likely, we’re wrong:
And if we’re not completely wrong, we’re at the very least slightly off. Koine Greek (or NT Greek) was not a magical, beautiful, robust language. It was the language of the people. Koine means “common.” It was common Greek. When we say how rich and deep each and every word actually is, we’re misunderstanding the fact that this language is not necessarily a deep and rich language.
Think about this: We all know about the word “agape.” We’ve heard that it means “unconditional love,” or something like that. But when you start to read the NT, you realize that the NT writers used agape all the time. It was the normal word for love. It didn’t have any deep and magical meaning. It just meant “love.” Now the NT writers used agape in a lot of different ways; sometimes to indicate the love God has for people, and other times to indicate the kind of love the Pharisees had for themselves.
If you think about it, agape functions just like the English word “love.” People love their spouses, their jobs, their cars, their American Idols, their parents, and so on. It doesn’t mean much without the context.
2. When we say “What the Greek really means…” most often what we really are saying is, “What the dictionary says…”
A great example of this that I’ve heard is that the Greek word for “believe” in the NT really means, “to trust in, rely on, and cling to.” As if the author knew when he or she wrote “pisteuo” that the word was pregnant with such deep and rich meaning. But if we just bust open an English dictionary, we can learn that the definition for believe can be any of those things. So we’re really not expressing what the Greek means as much as we are expressing what the English definition of a given word actually is. No Greek needed there.
I think the problem comes when we don’t have enough knowledge of Greek to do a proper word study. We simply open a basic lexicon and list of the various definitions of a Greek word. That’s not exactly how it works. In other words, we can’t just open up a Greek lexicon, look up “pneuma,” read off the definitions of “spirit, wind, breath, etc.” and claim we’ve done a word study. Furthermore, we can’t then take those definitions and say the Greek word pneuma really means “spirit, wind, breath, etc.” The author may not (and most likely did not) have all of the definitions in mind when he or she used the word.
Think about how frustrating it would be to have someone pick apart one of your emails like this. To a friend, you might write something like, “I’m scared I might lose my job this week.” Should your friend bust open the dictionary and read all of the definitions for “scared” in order to properly understand your feelings? Wouldn’t that most likely lead him or her down the wrong road when considering the intended meaning behind what you wrote? Think about it…
3. We remove the text from the people:
When we utter the words, “What the Greek really means” in a sermon or teaching, one of the things we are communicating is, “The English doesn’t cut it. You have to be able to read the Greek to really understand what’s going on here.” Think about the kind of frustration that would cause someone. It could have devastating effects to regularly hear that you can’t truly understand what’s going in the Bible on unless you read Greek. Suddenly the text doesn’t seem as accessible as it did before. In order to really “get it,” you have to know what the Greek really means.
4. It makes the English versions seem unreliable:
If we keep harping on the idea that the English translation of the Bible is incomplete, we start to develop in people a mistrust of the various versions of the Bible. If we’re always saying certain words really mean something other than what a person’s English translation uses, we may be cultivating something in the people who hear us that is not healthy.
English translations, by and large, do a good job at translating what is a pretty complicated language and subject matter. I say Greek is complicated more because it is a dead language that no one speaks anymore. This makes it a bit challenging because we can’t consult a native speaker to help us with what we’ve translated. So in the end, most translations do a good job communicating the ideas behind the text. Sure, they could have chosen different definitions for some words, but the spirit of what was written survives.
5. We put ourselves in an undeserved position of authority:
We are the ones who can really know what the Bible means. We know Greek, and since you can only understand what the Bible is really saying by reading the Greek, you must come to us in order to get to the bottom of scripture.
Sure, I might be overstating it a little, but I’m not that far off. If I’m a pastor who is regularly saying, “What the Greek really means…”, I’m presenting myself as a type of authority in this area. In other words, I’m saying, “I know Greek. That’s why I can know what the Bible really means.” And to take it a little further, “You don’t know Greek. Come to me, and I’ll tell you what the Bible really means.”
Add to this the fact that most people can’t really check what we’re saying to see if it’s true. If I say the Greek word means something, who’s going to challenge me on that? Most will take it as gospel. That’s a bad thing. I’m placing myself and my words in a position of authority that is above criticism. Bad news for any person in a power position over others.
The boring stuff of Greek:
Here’s an interesting thought: The title of my little blog is “grapso skubalon.” The first word means, essentially “to write.” The second word is a crass way of saying “dung.” Nothing too enlightening there. But I purposely put the first word in the future tense. My original thought was to title the blog, “I will write crap.”
Here’s where it gets interesting – The tense of the word “grapso” can be future (as I originally intended it), or the tense can be subjunctive (exactly the same form), which would change the translation to “I might write crap.” Small difference, but kind of a big one. And the kicker is that the only way to tell what form I was using is by context. Since there is no context, it could go either way.
And that’s the boring stuff of Greek. Did I intend the sentence to be future or subjunctive? Do I think I will always write crap, or do I think I might write crap at some point, but I might not? Big difference…
Note this: it’s a long way from saying, “What the Greek really means…” Not to mention, it’s a lot more boring too. People get excited about the perceived “magic” of the Greek language. In reality, Greek word studies can be boring and uninformative.
So when you feel yourself about to say those dreaded words, “What the Greek really means…,” bite your tongue and express your thought without appealing to the Greek.
*These guys say it much more gracious than I am saying it.
