Sunday Morning Greek Blog

July 5, 2011

“I Am the Resurrection and the Life” (John 11:25)

The next two weeks will be busier than usual for me, as I have my three kids for their opportunity to live with me. I am glad they are here, and I look forward to our time together. It took a 19-hour round trip to get them here, and we all slept in Sunday (they more than I), but it was worth it to be able to attend the evening service at StoneBridge Christian Church with them, then head out to my aunt and uncle’s cabin near Fremont to watch some professional and not-so-amateur fireworks displays. As my daughter said in her Facebook post, “‎1 good thing about driving at night on 4th of July weekend is never ending fireworks!”

I have made my way through Stephen’s “fatal” testimony in Acts 7 in my reading schedule, and his summary of Israel’s history has many mnemonic elements to it, almost as if Stephen had developed a primitive version of the popular “Walk Thru the Bible” events, where you learn motions to go along with the biblical story. Key words are repeated two or three times in each section, and a few inclusios stick out as well.

However, before I am too far removed from John’s Gospel, I want to tackle one of the two remaining “I am” statements I have not yet covered. “I am the resurrection and the life” (Ἐγώ εἰμι ἡ ἀνάστασις καὶ ἡ ζωή egō eimi hē anastasis kai hē zōē, John 11:25) is almost certainly the heart of John’s Gospel. It is the middle chapter of the book for starters. It is also the “I am” statement that is most closely associated with the historical event that prompted the statement, at least in terms of proximity in the biblical text. Finally, it is the one that reveals the power Jesus has over death and that looks forward to his own victory over death.

Once again, we should not be surprised that John has brought us to the point where this statement becomes significant. To keep it simple, a search of the phrase “eternal life” (ζωὴ αἰώνιός zōē aiōnios, usually used in accusative ζωὴν αἰώνιόν zōēn aiōnion) in the TNIV reveals 43 occurrences. John uses the phrase 17 times in his Gospel, more than twice that of the Synoptic authors combined. If 1 John is figured into the picture, John has over half the occurrences of the phrase in his writings. John had used the phrase 13 times up through chapter 10, but not at all in chapter 11 where we find our text.

In the Synoptic Gospels, the primary use of the phrase is in the three parallel passages where Jesus is asked what must be done to inherit eternal life. But John doesn’t record anyone asking that question. John (or Jesus’ words in John) is always forthright about declaring eternal life. In fact, three of the passages that have figured prominently in this discussion of the “I am” statements contain teaching about eternal life (John 4—woman at the well; John 6—”I am the bread of life”; John 10—”I am the door of the sheep”/”I am the good shepherd”; John 14:6, “I am the way and the truth and the life,” should also be included, because the last part is a restatement of 11:25).

Eternal life does not mean life forever on this earth in our current bodies. Eventually, the earth would run out of room to hold everyone. Death is in the offing for all of us; but if we are Christ followers, we also know death is not the end. The NT writers use several words for “resurrection” (noun) or “raise up (to life),” but the main ones are the noun ἀνάστασις (anastasis, the word found in Jesus’ “I am” statement) and the verbs ἐγείρω (egeirō) and ἀνίστημι (anistēmi). The verb ἐγείρω is by far the most popular of the two; John uses it 13 times as opposed to 8 times for ἀνίστημι. (Note: Because both the nouns and the verbs can refer to “standing up from being seated” or “rising up from a reclined position” as well as “rising from the dead,” I used Logos Bible Software to search for the Louw & Nida semantic domain numbers for each word when they specifically refer to “rising from the dead”; if you use a regular concordance to look these up, make sure you note the distinctions in usage.)

In the immediate context of the passage at hand (John 11:23–25), we find five occurrences of words that mean “come back to life.” Martha believes in the resurrection in the last day, but she also seems to hold out some hope that Jesus could restore Lazarus to them even at that time, even after he has been dead four days. Broadening the context, these resurrection words appear three times in John 6:39–40. But the occurrences that should make us sit up and take notice is that in John 2:20–22, where right from the start, Jesus predicts his own resurrection. John even points out in vs. 22 that the disciples remembered Jesus had said that after he rose from the dead (see John 20:9). Putting it all together, the resurrection and eternal life permeate John’s Gospel, while in the Synoptic Gospels, such discussion is limited to a few pericopes, the most significant being the Sadducees discussion with Jesus about marriage and the resurrection and Jesus’ own repeated predictions of his resurrection.

John develops this concept more completely than the other Gospel writers, especially by providing a living, breathing example, Lazarus, of someone raised from the dead other than Jesus. Matthew does mention the “sleeping saints” who came out of their tombs that resurrection weekend (27:51–53), but we’re never really told if that was an enduring earthly resurrection as we are with Lazarus (John 12:1, 9, 17). This is not to say John’s Gospel is better than the Synoptic Gospels. But it does reveal that John was not so much into telling a chronological story like the Synoptic authors; his focus is theology, or more specifically, Christology and eschatology. (I suppose technically I could use the words “anastasiology” [ἀνάστασις] and “zoology” [ζωή], but the first one’s not in the dictionary [which has never stopped me before!], and the second one is used primarily of nonhuman living beings.)

In 1 Corinthians 15, Paul develops even further the theology and centrality of the resurrection. I think it is safe to assume he had been influenced by John on this point. On the one hand, Paul says that it is futile to be a Christ follower if Jesus has not been raised from the dead. On the other hand, he talks about the spiritual realities of the resurrection: it’s not the earthly resurrection that Lazarus experienced. It is a transformation of our mortal bodies into an immortal substance that can never die. That is the substance of our “eternal life.”

Peace!

Pastor Scott Stocking, M.Div.

May 1, 2011

“If I’ve Told You Once, I’ve Told You a Thousand Times…”

Filed under: Biblical Studies,Greek,Luke Gospel of,Matthew Gospel of — Scott Stocking @ 8:23 am

I have an important message for all of us husbands, former, current, and future: for all the times our former, current, and future wives (respectively) said (or will say) things to us about their friends, jobs, or something that needed fixing in the house, and we quickly forgot those things until we were reminded that we weren’t good listeners, I grant general absolution. Before you start cheering, you former, current, and future wives, because for all those times we former, current, and future husbands (respectively) told you (or will tell you) things about the car, the electronics, or the computer but you failed to heed, leading to expensive repairs, I grant you general absolution as well. And need I say anything about what we tell our kids? You’re forgiven, kids, but don’t forget next time!

Have I unsettled you yet? Great! Know this, however: when you fail to take heed of things that someone else thinks are important for you to know, you are in prestigious company, namely, the company of the twelve apostles.

Three times in Luke’s Gospel (9:21–27, 43b–45; 18:31–34) Jesus tells his apostles, “Oh, by the way, I’m going to be turned over to the Jewish rulers and Roman authorities to be beaten, tortured, and killed, but I’ll come back in few days.” You would think that the first time that the man whom you most admire in the world drops this bomb on you, there would at least be some reaction from the apostles. (Actually in Matthew 16:21ff, Peter does rebuke Jesus for saying this, but Jesus turns around and promptly returns the rebuke in stronger terms, calling Peter “Satan,” but for whatever reason, Luke doesn’t record that in 9:21–27.) But like a stealth bomber at an Air Force air show, the statement zips right over their heads, and they never considered it again, until….

In Luke 9:21–27 (which is parallel to Matthew’s account in Matthew 16), Jesus first makes the statement, but then immediately begins talking about more stuff that we might be prone to forget: stuff like denying ourselves, taking up our crosses, and being willing to follow Jesus to death if necessary. So one might understand why his first statement went unnoticed. It reminds me a little of Moses in Exodus 3:5–14. God makes eight “I” statements to Moses about who he is and what he intends to do, most of which are miraculous or spectacular, but all Moses could key in on was the last statement: “By the way, Moses, I’m sending you to make sure Pharaoh knows I’m the one doing all this.” Moses’ response is not, “Wow, God, I’m so grateful to have your complete and total support and protection as I go back to the nation where I’m number one on the ‘Most Wanted’ list. I’ll get right on that.” Instead, Moses turns the attention back on himself. “Who am I?” (I can just see God giving Moses a Gibbs’ slap to the back of the head.)

Even if we take Peter’s response in Matthew into consideration, the point is that there is no apparent sadness among the apostles after Jesus says he’s going to die. When we get news that a loved one has cancer or was in a serious car wreck, are we, like Peter, more concerned about how this messes up our own agenda, or are we genuinely concerned about the well-being of our loved one? You see the point?

According to Luke, the apostles had eight days to process this first prediction (Luke 9:28) before something even more amazing took place, but only three of the apostles were in on that Transfiguration event. In that event, Jesus spoke about his coming death with Moses and Elijah, but again, the three in the inner circle are clueless, but understandably so. Luke 9:32 says the disciples were βεβαρημένοι ὕπνῳ (bebarēmenoi hypnō /beh-bah-ray-MEH-noi HOOP-no/ ‘burdened with sleep’), but I’m pretty sure it wasn’t because the conversation between three of Judaism’s most amazing men was boring! The sleepiness seems to be divinely induced, because in the next breath, they become “fully awake” (διαγρηγορήσαντες diagrēgorēsantes /dee-ah-gray-goh-RAY-sahn-tess/) and have once again completely missed the talk of their Lord’s impending death. Instead, Peter wants to build a booth, as if that will put off Jesus’ sacrifice.

It is no accident, then, that Jesus’ second prediction of his death comes right after this Transfiguration event. I like the way Jesus puts it in 9:44: Θέσθε ὑμεῖς εἰς τὰ ὦτα ὑμῶν τοὺς λόγους τούτους (thesthe hymeis eis ta ōta hymōn tous logous toutous literally, ‘you yourselves place in your ears these words’). Usually when a command is given in Greek, as in English, you don’t have to use the pronoun “you,” because the subject is implied. But we know when we hear the pronoun “you” in an English command, the person giving the command means business. The same goes for the Greek here. Jesus expressly focuses on his disciples, because he wants them to know this. He would be delivered over into the hands of men, but he says nothing in this instance of his resurrection.

Jesus says this, though, knowing that the disciples won’t get it. The very next verse says that the disciples “didn’t understand” (ἀγνοέω agnoeō /ah-gnaw-EH-oh/ ‘to be ignorant’; same root for the word “agnostic”) and that the meaning of the words was “hidden” (παρακαλύπτω parakalyptō /pah rah kah LOO ptoh/) from them. Jesus is preparing his disciples for the worst, but if Peter’s response in Matthew is any indication, he does not want the disciples focusing on his impending death. He wants them to stay focused on ministry in the here and now. (I think this is one of the reasons Jesus teaches against worrying; worrying focuses on things over which we have no control, and we fail to live in the here and now as God wants us to.)

In Luke 18:31–34, as Jesus and his disciples are on their way to Jerusalem, he again predicts his death, and again, the Twelve fail to “understand” (συνίημι syniēmi /soo-NEE-ay-mee/) because the meaning is “hidden” (κρύπτω kryptō /KROO-ptoh/), but by this time, I’d have to think that the disciples were suspecting something unusual was in the works, even if they didn’t comprehend it completely. It isn’t until the penultimate verses of Luke (24:45–49) that Jesus, just after his resurrection, finally reveals to them the meaning of all that talk of his death that had remained hidden to them until that point. At that point, they finally had their “Aha!” moment and could truly and fully rejoice, because their knowledge and understanding were made complete.

Maybe that’s why many Christians (including myself) seem to “go through the motions” at times, because it hasn’t hit home yet just exactly what God is doing in our lives. We’ve been reading the book The Christian Atheist in Wednesday night class. The subtitle for the book is “Believing in God but Living Like He Doesn’t Exist.” I wonder if a better title might be The Christian Agnostic: Christians believe that God exists, but like the disciples in these prediction stories, we just haven’t figured out yet how God is working in our lives or what he’s really saying, and we’re afraid to trust.

I think a strong case could be made here for regular Bible reading as well. Some Christians complain that the Bible is too hard to understand in places, so they don’t want to read it. But how many times have those of us who have read through Scripture more than once come across passages that seem brand new to us? We know we’ve read those passages before, but for whatever reason, they just didn’t stick. But at just the right time, if we are faithful in reading his Word, God will reveal to us those things we need to know for our encouragement and strengthening. And if we don’t understand something right away, we shouldn’t worry: Jesus promises in Luke 12:11–12 that the Holy Spirit will teach us what we need to know and say when we need to know it and say it. That will be much easier to do if we’ve read our assignments ahead of time!

Other Musings

I don’t have time to explore this in depth in today’s entry, but after reading the parable of the 10 minas in Luke 19:11–27, I asked myself if the man who made himself king of a distant country is in fact Jesus in the story. I did a cursory reading of Blomberg’s interpretation of this parable (and its parallel in Matthew 25:14–30) in Interpreting the Parables, but he seems to think the element of the story of the man going off to be made king is extraneous to the core message of the parable. Still, I think something can be made of the Scribes, Pharisees, and Sadducees wanting to kill Jesus, and the execution of those who did not want the man to be king can be taken as judgment against those who reject Jesus’ lordship. The parable is rather harsh in this way, but it certainly warrants further exploration. Blomberg cites Josephus to explain this particular aspect of the parable:

This second parable closely parallels the details of the trip of Archelaus, son of Herod the Great, to Rome in 4 b.c. to receive imperial ratification of his hereditary claim to rule Judea, along with the Jewish embassy which opposed him and Archelaus’s subsequent revenge on the Judeans (cf. Josephus Ant. 17:299–323, Bell. 2:80–100).

February 21, 2011

Mark 1: More on “For the Forgiveness of Sins”

February 20, 2011

 It seems odd that just a little more than 1/8th of the year is already gone, but I only just finished the first book of the NT. In fact, according to my reading plan, I will be in the Gospels until almost the end of June, and then I won’t be done with Acts until the middle of August. Some of you have sent some special requests, and I will address those as I’m able. School kicks into full gear this week for me. I’m teaching two online classes now, followed by one online class after that.

 (Just in case you missed it, I had a bonus blog entry last Thursday on the “sleeping saints.” Please check it out when you have time.)

 I spent the last two days poring over Mark 1. One of the first things I noticed is how, when Mark begins the story with Jesus’ immersion by John the Immersing One ([ὁ] βαπτίζων, ho baptizōn, a participle verb form), he (through divine inspiration???) uses some of the very language that Matthew used at the end of his story with Jesus.

 Last week’s entry highlighted the phrase εἰς ἄφεσιν ἁμαρτιῶν (eis aphesin hamartiōn ‘into the forgiveness of sins’) and its use in both Matthew 26:28 in connection with the blood of Jesus and Acts 2:38 in connection with repenting and being immersed. Peter did not pull that connection out of his exegetical magic hat.

 Mark 1:4 uses the same phrase in connection with John’s immersion ministry. Mark says that John was “preaching an immersion of repentance for the forgiveness of sins.” In the next verse, Mark says that people were coming to John to be immersed in the Jordan “confessing their sins.” Then in verse 8, Mark makes a statement that has been one of the sources of the debate surrounding the efficacy and signification of immersion. John the Immersing One says, “I am immersing you in water, but he [Jesus] will immerse you in the Holy Spirit.”

I use the word “but” there, because that is how most English translations render it. But this “but” (δε de in Greek) is considered to be a “weak” conjunction. It is not as powerful as καί (kai ‘and’, ‘also’), but when it can be used as a disjunctive, it is not as powerful as ἀλλά (alla ‘but’). The latter usually indicates a complete or emphatic break. But δε is often used to connect actions that happen in sequence. The primary example of this is Matthew’s use of  δε in his opening genealogy: “Abraham was the father of Isaac; then Isaac was the father of Jacob” and so on.

So when Mark records John using δε with respect to the signification of how Jesus will “immerse” us, he is not saying that his own “baptism of repentance” will be null and void once Jesus starts immersing. In some respects, John could be making a play on words here. But John (and Mark) could also be looking forward to Acts 2:38. (We shouldn’t ignore the fact that Peter and Mark were close companions in the early days of the church, so there is most likely some of that influence represented here, but Luke’s objectivity in Acts makes any possibility of collusion for Mark to redact John’s words to support Peter’s message or to match Matthew’s wording unlikely.)

The bottom-line translation or interpretation here is this: John says, “I am immersing you in water, then he [Jesus, when he immerses you] will immerse you in the Holy Spirit.” John 4:1–2 indicates that Jesus’ disciples continued John’s immersion ministry, although Jesus himself apparently never immersed anyone in water. Additionally, John indicates later in his Gospel that Jesus will send the Holy Spirit after his death, so Mark’s words indeed do look forward to Peter’s declaration in Acts 2:38.

Other notes on Mark 1.

The word εὐθὺς (euthys ‘immediately’) occurs 11 times in chapter 1 and 41 times in the entire Gospel. One of the early lessons I learned in seminary was the urgency with which Mark presented the good news: Jesus couldn’t wait to get the word out.

Jesus casts out (ἐκβαλλω ekballō) many demons in Mark 1. But what I found interesting is that this same word describes what the Holy Spirit did to Jesus when he “sent him out” into the wilderness to be tempted (vs. 12). Mark also uses that word later in the chapter when Jesus “sent away” the cleansed leper and warned him not to speak. The point is that the word has diverse usage: it’s not only used to cast off evil things or entities. But it is a little stronger than simply using the more common words for “come” or “go.”

One last point regarding the cleansing of the leper: it is significant, I think, that the word for “cleanse” (καθαρίζω katharizō) is used rather than the word for “heal” (θεραπεύω therapeuō) in Mark 1:40-45. Healing would have only involved the physical or even emotional scars or wounds. But cleansing took healing to a whole new level. Jesus not only healed the leper, but he made the leper socially acceptable by removing the stigma of his uncleanness. (See Leviticus 14:1–32 where Moses describes the procedure for making an offering for being cleansed of leprosy.)

As we go about our respective ministries, may we offer that same cleansing and acceptance to those who need the restorative power of the good news of Jesus.

Let the Sleeping Saints Arise!

Filed under: Biblical Studies,Greek,Matthew Gospel of,New Testament — Scott Stocking @ 6:15 pm

From February 17, 2011.

Just a quick note this morning on a great bit of verbal artistry in Matthew 27:52. The TNIV renders the passage rather blandly, in spite of the miraculous event it records: “The bodies of many holy people who had died were raised to life.” In the Greek, the phrase reads like this: πολλὰ σώματα τῶν κεκοιμημένων ἁγίων ἠγέρθησαν (polla sōmata tōn kekoimēmenōn hagiōn ēgerthēsan), which literally reads, “Many bodies of the sleeping saints were resurrected.” (I think I may have even topped Eugene Peterson’s [The Message] translation of the passage.)

When I read that, I had to stop and revel in the profundity of that phrase. Many of you probably know that the concept of sleeping (here, the verb κοιμάω koimaō ‘sleep’) in the NT is a euphemism for death. And in fact, the people in Matthew 27:52 had been dead, “sleeping” in their tombs. I don’t recall ever seeing that part of the resurrection story depicted in movies about the crucifixion (it’s been a while since I’ve watched any of them, though). This is a phenomenal miracle that gets overlooked by many in light of the admittedly greater importance of the crucifixion and resurrection of Jesus.

But here’s the rub. What signification (see my use of that word in my previous note) does the death of Jesus have for you? At the risk of trivializing the miracle of that crucifixion day, I have a question for you (and myself): Are you a “sleeping saint”? Do I need to carry this analogy any further? I leave you to your own musings on this subject.

I’d love to write more, but it’s time to get ready for work. I’d love to hear your comments.

εἰς ἄφεσιν ἁμαρτιῶν (eis aphesin hamartiōn, ‘for the forgiveness of sins’)

From February 13, 2011.

For centuries, scholars have debated the significance of Jesus’ words in the Gospels’ descriptions of the Lord’s Table, or what other traditions call “communion” or “eucharist.” The four short verses in Matthew have quite a bit to unpack, and I will not be able to do them justice here, but I do want to highlight a few things. The parallel passages are Matthew 26:26–30, Mark 14:22–26; Luke 22:15–20; John 13 has a very different account of that last night with the disciples.

First, Jesus treats the bread and cup differently, at least in Matthew’s and Mark’s accounts. Both of those Gospel writers say that Jesus “blessed” (εὐλογέω, eulogeō) the bread (reminiscent of Matthew 14:19, the feeding of the 5,000), but he “gave thanks” (εὐχαριστέω, eucharisteō) for the cup. Luke says in his account that Jesus “gave thanks” for both.

Second, Jesus does break the bread when he blesses it, and he does say, “This is my body,” but nowhere in any Gospel account does he say, “This is my body, broken for you.” That final phrase is found in some manuscripts (MSS) of the account in 1 Corinthians 11:24, but those MSS do not carry the same historic or epigraphic weight as those that do not have the phrase, so you will not find it in most contemporary English Bibles.

Third, when Jesus takes the cup, Matthew and Luke (Paul follows Luke in 1 Corinthians) have slightly different versions of what Jesus said, but not necessarily contradictory. Matthew records Jesus’ words as, “This is my blood of the covenant.” But that could be rendered a couple different ways depending on how one understands the “my” (μου, mou) in that verse.

In Matthew 16:18, when Jesus says, “I will build my church,” the μου comes before the Greek word translated “church.” So it is possible to render Matthew 26:28 similarly: “This is the blood of my covenant.” In Greek grammar, μου, as genitive pronoun, could also indicate source: “This is the blood from me of the covenant,” anticipating his very next words after that, “which is poured out for many.” However, I think the best explanation, though, is that μου comes between “blood” and “covenant” because it applies to both: “This is my blood of my covenant.”

Luke’s (and Paul’s parallel) account is slightly different, perhaps reflecting the liturgy that had developed among the congregations at the time: “This cup is the new covenant in my blood.” The significance here is that Luke and Paul both make the connection between the covenant and the blood, just as Matthew does.

But finally, I think the most significant aspect of this passage, particularly in Matthew’s account, is the final phrase in Matthew 26:28: εἰς ἄφεσιν ἁμαρτιῶν (eis aphesin hamartiōn, ‘for the forgiveness of sins’). The almost identical phrase is found in Acts 2:38, except it adds the definite article with “sins” along with the possessive pronoun “your”: “Repent, and let each one of you be immersed in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your sins.”

The connection between immersion and forgiveness has been downplayed by many. My own background, Independent Christian Church/Church of Christ, has, I think, made the best sense of this verse: The preposition εἰς generally implies motion “into” some place or state of being. Bringing Romans 6 and 1 Peter 3:21 into the mix, I believe we get the full counsel of Scripture on this topic. Here’s the logic as I see it:

  1. John immersed with water for repentance, and Jesus was obedient to that immersion (Matthew 3:11–17).
  2. Jesus says his blood is poured out “for the forgiveness of sins” (Matthew 26:28);
  3. Peter commands the crowd, “Repent and let each one of you be immersed for the forgiveness of your sins” (Acts 2:38; ties together John’s immersion philosophy and Jesus’ blood);
  4. Paul makes the connection between immersion and the death of Jesus, i.e., the pouring out of his blood at the cross; the water is important as a “signification” of burial (Romans 6:1–10);
  5. Peter says that immersion saves, but by the power of the resurrection, not by the power of the water; the water is still important, because without it, you can’t be immersed (1 Peter 3:21).

So there seems to be trend as you read from Matthew to Revelation to heighten increasingly the significance of immersion. In fact, immersion is a “signification,” not just a symbol, of forgiveness and salvation, not just an optional exercise or an outward show. Everything about immersion in the Scriptures indicates that some inward transformation is occurring. At the very least, it is commanded, so it can’t be optional, regardless of what else you may think of immersion. On the other hand, when the people in Acts understood the significance of immersion, they didn’t hesitate to get it done (e.g., Acts 8:36–38, 9:16, et passim). That should suggest something about how it was presented in the early days of the church.

Some scholars have tried to argue that the phrase in Acts 2:38 should be understood “in reference to the forgiveness of your sins,” implying that immersion is a response to forgiveness already received. I would like to know how those scholars would apply that translation to Matthew 26:28. Do they really want to say Jesus’ shed blood was only “in reference to the forgiveness of sins”? I don’t think even the most stubborn evangelical scholars would want to downplay the blood of Christ to that extent.

Peace!

For further reference, see sense 2 of the meaning of “signification” in Merriam-Webster’s Collegiate Dictionary.

Careful Christianity (Matthew 23:13-36)

From February 6, 2011.

Woe is I is the title of a popular grammar book that deals in a light-hearted manner with the complexities of the English language. More often than not, “woe” is a self-proclamation of the troubles (real or exaggerated) we face in daily life.

But in Matthew 23:13–36, when Jesus pronounced “Woe!” (οὐαὶ, ouai ooh-EYE!) on hypocritical scribes and Pharisees, he was not making a playful jest with them. You can certainly hear the “sound of ultimate suffering” (to quote Inigo Montoya) when you say that word with all the pathos you can muster. His pronouncement of woe was about the severest form of judgment that could be pronounced, short of the ἀνάθεμα (anathema ‘curse’) of 1 Cor 16:22. In my UBS3 dictionary, the translation is given as “1. interjection how horrible it will be! 2. noun horror, disaster, calamity.”

The reason for the woe, however, is what I want to focus on this morning. Other than the repetition of the “woe” phrase, another prominent word appears three times in this text: ἀφίημι (aphiēmi ). The word is a workhorse in the Greek New Testament, appearing 112 times, but having a variety of loosely related meanings. The three basic English meanings/translations of the word are “forgive,” “leave/left,” and “allow” or “let.” Other derived meanings or translations  are “cancel,” “tolerate,” “neglect,” or even “divorce” (1 Cor 7:11–13 would read very differently if English translation had “neglect” instead of “divorce” there!).

The TNIV translates the word as “neglect” twice in Matthew 23:23. “You give a tenth of your spices—mint, dill and cumin. But you have neglected the more important matters of the law—justice, mercy and faithfulness. You should have practiced the latter, without neglecting the former.” The little things are important, but we have bigger fish to fry as well. Later, in 23:38 as Jesus closes out the curse, he warns the hypocrites “Your wilderness house is neglected by you” (my translation).

The idea of “neglect” came home to me while reading through Deuteronomy last year. More than once in that book, Moses warned the Israelites to “be careful.” Jesus warns the hypocrites that they are majoring in the minors while neglecting the more important commands of God. In other words, they’re being careful about the wrong things. Herein is a call to be intentionally Christian: don’t be passive about your faith or relationships; don’t think the sins (big or little) that no one sees don’t matter. Don’t neglect your faith.

I say this at the risk of being accused as a legalist. I’m not a legalist, though, at least not about the small things. I have, however, in the last few years come to see the absolute importance of justice, mercy, and faithfulness for the Christian community. These rank right up there with faith, hope, and love, and are intertwined with them to boot. What I am saying is that we should evaluate our priorities and see if we have the mind of Christ. His ministry was one of justice, mercy, and faithfulness. I recently listened to a message by Ravi Zacharias entitled “What Happened after God’s Funeral?” He laments the fact that, in modern entertainment, we tend to laugh at sin rather than be offended by it. I have a hard time seeing how that fits in with the big three. Maybe I’m just a stick in the mud, but Charlie Sheen’s recent troubles bring this truth home quite clearly. How many of us (myself included) have laughed at his exploits on Two and a Half Men, only to discover that the show is a not-so-fictional biography of his real-life exploits?

Have we neglected God’s righteousness in favor of entertainment? Have we neglected our faith to the point that we have trouble distinguishing good from evil any more, and worse, to the point of not being able to respond appropriately in Christian love? Let us go forward in love, bearing a witness of integrity for Christ.

He has shown all you people what is good.

And what does the Lord require of you?

To act justly and to love mercy

and to walk humbly with your God. (Micah 6:8)

Entering Heaven Difficultly (Matthew 19)

January 30, 2011

It seems like Sunday is the only time I have to blog on reading through the Greek New Testament, so I’ll just call this the Sunday Morning Greek Blog.

I could say much about Jesus’ discussion of divorce in the first part of Matthew 19, but I think I’ll wait until my own divorce is finalized and well behind me.

However, I did discover something interesting today about Jesus’ encounter with the rich young man in the last part of Matthew 19. Now I am neither rich nor young, but having landed a new job that pays better than any job I’ve had before, I should probably start paying better attention to teachings about wealth.

The thing that struck me most about my reading today was how the Greek text records Jesus’ answer to his disciples about how difficult it is for the rich to enter the kingdom of heaven. The English translations usually say something like, “It is difficult for a rich man/person to enter the kingdom of heaven.” This makes it sound like the main verb is “to be difficult” and “to enter” is an infinitive that completes the thought of the main verb.

But this is not the way it is written in Greek. The actual phrase in Greek (for my Greek geek friends) is πλούσιος δυσκόλως εἰσελεύσεται εἰς τὴν βασιλείαν τῶν οὐρανῶν, which translated literally would read “[a] rich one difficultly will enter into the kingdom of heaven.” The main verb here is the verb εἰσερχόμαι (“I enter”), which is used as a future tense form here (εἰσελεύσεται, “[he/she] will enter”). The word for “difficultly” (δυσκόλως) sounds a bit awkward for English, but I use it here to emphasize that the word is an adverb, which means it modifies or describes the action of the verb. (Remember “Lolly, Lolly, Lolly, get your adverbs here!)

Jesus says the rich “will enter the kingdom of heaven” (this is not to say that being rich is the only or any kind of qualification for entering the kingdom of heaven!), but they will do so with difficulty. Jesus doesn’t condemn wealth here; he just wants to make sure we have the proper attitude toward wealth. In vs. 24, when he says it’s easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle (a real sewing needle, not a narrow gate as some have tried to purport) than for a rich person to enter the kingdom of heaven, his disciples ask, “Who then can be saved?” Think about that for a minute. Jesus tells them the rich enter with great difficulty, then they ask “Who then can be saved?” as if they think the nonrich can’t be saved!

Maybe I’m reading too much into this, but that seems to reveal to me an attitude about prosperity in that day. Jesus did much of his ministry among the poor and oppressed, but he did not shy away from confronting (or in this case, reaching out to) the prosperous either. Could it be that the masses flocked to Jesus because the poor thought they had no hope for eternity? Even after all this time with Jesus, did the disciples still think salvation was something only for the prosperous?

Salvation is for all, rich or poor. Prosperity teachers need to sit up and take note here: When you tell your flock that God can make them rich, you might want to include this passage so they know the trouble they’re in for!

Again, this is not to say wealth is bad. I like Ephesians 4:28: “Those who have been stealing must steal no longer, but must work, doing something useful with their own hands, that they may have something to share with those in need.” Luke 16:9 is even more compelling: “Use worldly wealth to gain friends for yourselves, so that when it is gone, you will be welcomed into eternal dwellings.” Wealth is a blessing, and if we use it to bless others, I think we discover a new type of neighborly love.

Scott Stocking, M.Div.

Walking on Water (Matthew 14:29)

From January 23, 2011.

This note may be more appealing to my Greek-geek friends (sadly, there are so few of us), but those of you who are tagged may appreciate an insight into textual criticism and some of the considerations that go into trying to decide what the original text of Scripture was when two or more later copies have “variant” readings. Many things are considered in deciding between two or more variant readings, but in a nutshell, the top three considerations are as follows:

  1.  The more difficult reading is preferred (i.e., the one that presents the most problems theologically or historically, because later copyists tended to simplify a text rather than make it more difficult to understand).
  2. The shorter reading is preferred (this may seem to contradict the previous one, but “simplifying” a text may have involved the copyist adding an extra word or two to make the text make sense in his mind).
  3. The dissonant reading is preferred (i.e., the reading that varies from other parallel accounts; the tendency was to bring all accounts of a story into harmony).

Having said all that, I came across an interesting variant in Matthew 14:29 today. It’s not one that would force a major paradigm shift for most, but I found it interesting nonetheless.

The KJV renders the passage, “And he said, Come. And when Peter was come down out of the ship, he walked on the water, to go to Jesus.”

The TNIV has, “‘Come,’ he said. Then Peter got down out of the boat, walked on the water and came toward Jesus.”

At issue are the words in italics. The KJV states that Peter’s purpose (infinitive form) for walking on the water was to go to Jesus without implying that he completed the action, while the TNIV says Peter actually went (completed action form) to/toward Jesus and arrived at or very near his location on the water.

Ἐλθείν  (/el-THAIN/, infinitive meaning “to come” and often expressing purpose) is a well attested variant here. The difference in translation would be this: (a la TNIV, ἦλθεν /AIL-then/) “And he came to/toward” vs. (a la KJV) “in order to come to/toward” (I used my own translations here to emphasize the difference).

In the accepted reading (UBS4/NA27, the foundational Greek text for most modern Bible versions like the TNIV, and which in this verse follows the B text, Codex Vaticanus), depending on how the preposition is translated, Peter actually makes progress on the sea (or “water” as Matthew records Peter’s words) and gets close enough to Jesus for Jesus to reach out and save him.

The variant (textus receptus, which is the foundational Greek text for the KJV) only suggests Peter’s purpose for getting out onto the water, but it says nothing about his progress. Mark and John do not mention Peter’s attempt in the parallel accounts. The B reading is certainly more difficult, but the TR (which follows a correction of א, Codex Sinaitcus) reading is shorter, but in making it shorter, it also simplifies the more difficult concept that Peter walked on water just like Jesus. (The original א text has both Ἐλθείν and ἦλθεν.)

My heart would like to think that Peter actually did make some progress; the weight of the textual evidence in favor of the TR reading gives me pause, but the B reading is parallel to the verb for “walk” in the passage (also the same word used of Jesus walking on the water), so I’d have side with that. Peter does walk on the water, so he does make some progress toward Jesus, and perhaps even makes it all the way to Jesus before he begins to sink.

The bottom line is (and if you understood none of what I wrote above, please get this!), get out of the boat and come to Jesus. We may even get very close to Jesus and still find we lack faith, but all we need to do is cry out, and he will save us from the storms of life.

I’d love to hear your thoughts on this.

Scott Stocking, M.Div.

How to Calm a Great Storm (Matthew 8)

From January 16, 2011

Just few observations on some things I noticed in Matthew 8 earlier in the week.

 The “great storm” (σεισμός μέγας, seismos megas) of vs. 24 becomes a “great calm” (γαλήνη μεγάλη, galēnē megalē) in vs. 26 after Jesus rebukes the wind. The dynamically equivalent TNIV renderings of “furious storm” and “completely calm” for these two phrases are adequate, but they don’t reveal to the English-speaking reader that the same word was used to describe both storm and calm.

 Another thing I found interesting is that the story (pericope for my theologically minded friends) of the calming of the storm at sea is juxtaposed to the healing of the demon-possessed Gadarenes in 8:28-34. In the calming of the sea story, The disciples are afraid, and perhaps rightly so, that their lives are in danger in the storm. But Jesus’ presence should have strengthened them: that’s why he “says” to them (it is significant, I think, that he does not “rebuke” them as he does the storm) that they have “little-faith” (one word in Greek) and are “cowards.”

 Contrast that with the fate of the herd of pigs, who, when possessed by the demons cast out of the Gadarenes, ran off into the sea and drowned. The sea was already a place of superstition, but now the disciples had witnessed a herd of unclean animals drown in the sea. How did this affect them?

 In 9:1, (contrast 8:23), Matthew says that only Jesus got back into the boat and crossed back to Capernaum. There is no mention of the disciples getting in the boat with him this time. Even after witnessing Jesus calm the storm at sea, they were still (evidently) skittish about getting back in the boat with Jesus. In Mark’s version of the story (Mark 5), the healed demoniac does want to get in the boat with Jesus when he crosses over, but there is still no indication that the disciples did, although they had apparently caught up to him by Mark 5:31 (see also Luke 8 where the story follows a similar pattern to Mark’s account).

 How many of us have seen the great works of God yet are still afraid to go forward in faith? I know I’ve been cowardly a time or two (okay, many times), but I pray that each of us would have the strength, faith, and courage to go forward and to share boldly the good news of Jesus with those around us.

Peace!

Matthew 7: Narrow Gates and Good Fruit

From January 9, 2011.

Wow, a great morning in Matthew 7. Here are just a few things I discovered.

Jesus speaks of “the narrow gate” (τῆς στενῆς πύλης, tēs stenēs pulēs) in Matthew 7:13-14. Verse 14 is where things get interesting, however. Jesus uses the same words to describe the gate in vs. 14, but the NIV, TNIV, and, surprisingly, the NAS all cloud the issue here. Additionally, those three versions shift the translation “narrow” to a different word (a verb), θλίβω (thlibō), in vs. 14. That word means “to be hard pressed or persecuted.” I think the ESV, which tends to be more literal, gets closer to the sense: <span>”Enter by the narrow gate. For the gate is wide and the way is easy that leads to destruction, and those who enter by it are many. For the gate is narrow and the way is hard that leads to life, and those who find it are few.” “Hard” still seems a bit too soft, however (note the irony), but I suppose if the translators had said, “the way that leads to life is persecuted,” we would be less inclined to read our Bibles.

The next passage about the tree and its fruit has some interesting features as well. The NIV, TNIV, and NAS all repeat the words “good” and “bad” as if Jesus spoke the same Greek/Aramaic words for their respective occurrences. But when Jesus speaks of the “good” tree, he uses the word ἀγαθός (agathos), which typically, but not always, means “good” with moral implications in the NT. The word used to describe the “good” fruit is καλός (kalos), which can have a moral sense to it, but also has aesthetic implications as well (e.g., “beautiful”). I would say a good translation of the first part of vs. 17 is, “The tree that has been properly tended produces healthy, delicious fruit.”

The second part of that verse has similar issues with the word “bad.” Of the tree, Jesus uses the word σαπρός (sapros), which implies “rotten” or “unwholesome” (see Eph 4:29 for the latter). But of the fruit, Jesus uses the typical word for “evil,” πονηρός (ponēros). There is another word for “bad” in the Greek (κακός, kakos) that seems to be an antonym for agathos, but it is not found in this passage. So the latter half could read, “The rotten tree produces evil fruit.” Jesus doesn’t beat around the bush (or the tree) with this one. He jumps straight to judgment of those who aren’t producing healthy fruit.

Matthew 12:33-34 adds to this teaching as well. In a similar passage there, Jesus uses kalos and sapros to speak of both the tree and the fruit, but in 34, when he applies the analogy to his listeners, he uses agathos and ponēros to describe them.

Scott Stocking, M.Div.

« Previous PageNext Page »

Website Powered by WordPress.com.