Four Fake Grammar Rules

Here are four fake grammar rules you needn't bother about. And this seems just about right, though I might wish to quibble a little about infinitives. And perhaps a little about pronouns. But not much.

I will add that students ought to learn diligently the general rules of grammar before breaking and flouting them. One needs to know the rules first before one can break them well.

But, let it be said, writing is an art and not a hard science. And so style comes into play, to one degree or another, even in formal writing.

The Torah of YHWH in Psalm 1

So often so many, in my view, interpret wrongly the phrase “the torah of YHWH” (תוֹרַ֥ת יְהוָ֗ה) in Psalm 1. It is often taken simply to mean “the instruction of YHWH.” No one, to my knowledge, really doubts that the word “torah” (תּוֹרָה) does in fact often simply mean "instruction." That much is clear.

However, in Psalm 1, which sets the agenda for the whole Psalter, should we understand “the torah of YHWH” simply to mean “the instruction of YHWH”? I doubt it. I’ll not reproduce the argumentation of Mark D. Futato in his excellent handbook Interpreting the Psalms, but I will provide his conclusion, with which I joyfully concur in my inner being. He says:

So the תוֹרַ֥ת יְהוָ֗ה in Psalm 1 naturally refers to the Five Books of Moses. When we combine the sense of תּוֹרָה as ‘instruction’ with תוֹרַ֥ת יְהוָ֗ה as the Five Books of Moses, we conclude that the book of Psalms invites believers to meditate on the Five Books of Moses[1] as a source of instruction for experiencing the joy/blessings (v. 1) and prosperity/success (v. 3) held out in Psalm 1.

— Mark D. Futato, Interpreting the Psalms: An Exegetical Handbook (Grand Rapids: Kregel, 2007), 61–62.

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[1] Italics mine.

Greek NT "Utter Chaos"

Struggling to know exactly how to translate a portion of a Pauline epistle this morning, I consulted an authoritative grammar, A Greek Grammar of the New Testament and Other Early Christian Literature by Blass, Debrunner, and Funk (known as BDF). Here's what BDF said (§§ 467):

“The construction 1 T 1:3ff. is reduced to utter chaos by interminable insertions and appended clauses.”

Well, small wonder, then, that I had a little trouble. "Reduced to utter chaos," they say. The authorities on these matters call this tough bit of text "utter chaos."

It probably just needs a verb supplied from the context, as it seems all English translations have done. In any case, I find it encouraging that the authorities and the experts note the difficulties at precisely the point where I myself am finding difficulties.  

The Basics of Greek Aspect Theory

Due to relatively recent advancements, aspectual theory has become an important consideration for anyone working in the Greek New Testament. I have no intention here to canvass the issues, debates, and positions on aspect theory. What I want to do instead is simply provide a perspective on aspect as presented by my first-year Greek instructor Professor Jon Laansma. It has proved to be a valuable reference point for me as I continue to think about Greek verbs and poke around in discussions of aspectual theory. Professor Laansma was one of the clearest teachers I've ever had, communicating his subject matter with crystal clarity, never leaving me in doubt about what he was talking about and what I needed to know.

What follows comes from the handouts Professor Laansma gave to his first-year Greek class at Wheaton College in 2007:

Aspect: the speaker's presentation of an action to the hearer. It is a matter of choice (it is subjective). It is a matter of how one chooses to talk about an action. Aspect does not describe an action realistically. It does not tell us that an action is or was actually ongoing, momentary (i.e., punctiliar), and so on. It only presents the action from a certain viewpoint. 

Laansma then describes the different kinds of aspect:

Imperfective aspect [present and imperfect tenses]: presents the action as a process; looks at the action from the inside, as if we are watching the action unfold. "I am hitting the ball." We cannot infer from the use of this aspect alone, however, that the action was or is of an ongoing nature (although it may often be). The action could be "point-in-time"—such as "to hit the ball"—but presented as a process, contemplating the action as if watching it happen. 

Perfective aspect [aorist tense]: presents the action as a simple and undifferentiated whole; looks at the action from the outside, as if we see it all at once. "I studied four years." We cannot infer from the use of this aspect alone that the action was or is momentary or point-in-time, although it may be. In fact, this aspect tells us the least about the nature of the action itself. 

Stative aspect [perfect and pluperfect tenses]: presents the action as an entire state of affairs coming to fruition; looks at the action as if from both the inside and the outside. "I have hit."

Future aspect [future tense]: presents the action from the viewpoint of expectation or intention, implying futurity in most contexts. 

Describing how the imperfect tense (imperfective aspect) and the aorist tense (perfective aspect) often function in the literature, Laansma says this:

Some grammarians argue that what distinguishes the imperfect and present tenses is not time (present vs. past) but space (foreground vs. background; here vs. there; nearness vs. remoteness). What is not debated is that the imperfect tense is usually used in narrative contexts for background (vs. foreground) action, and it usually refers to past-time action. Like the imperfect tense, the aorist tense [perfective aspect] is used most often in narrative literature to refer to background material (though it is extremely common throughout the NT), usually with a past-time reference. Yet the aortist tense is also used for present and even future time action, as well as for timeless statements. The time reference of aorist tense verbs is therefore dependent on context, and the aorist tense is not a past time tense. The decision of time-reference depends on word choice and context.

Lastly, he says this of the stative aspect:

The stative aspect expresses the speaker's personal choice to present the state of the (grammatical) subject from the speaker's viewpoint. The focus is broadened from the action of the verb as such to a whole state of affairs dependent on that action and in which the subject of the verb is involved. Thus we have in our mind's eye not merely the action happening on the street [as with the perspective of the imperfective aspect; Laansma is deploying a parade analogy here], but the whole complex of arrangements and events surrounding the parade [the view of the parade master]. It is this complex state of affairs that is analogous to the perspective taken with the stative aspect. This aspect draws the most attention to the action of the verb and thus demands careful attention whenever used.

There you have it. Greek aspectual theory basics. Thanks Professor Laansma!

YHWH's Majestic Royal Voice

Here's trying my hand at translating Psalm 29. I've attempted to bring out something of the structure, flow, force, and poetics of the Hebrew, while maintaing an essentially literal translation.

A Psalm of David.

Give to YHWH, O sons of God,
     Give to YHWH glory and strength.
     Give to YHWH the glory of his name;
Worship YHWH in holy array.

YHWH's voice is over the waters,
     The God of glory thunders,
          YHWH, over vast waters;
YHWH's voice in power,
YHWH's voice in majesty;
YHWH's voice breaking cedars,
     YHWH shattering the cedars of Lebanon,
          making them skip like a calf,
               Lebanon and Sirion, like a young wild ox.
YHWH's voice hews flames of fire.
YHWH's voice cunvulses the wilderness,
     YHWH convulses the wilderness of Kadesh.
YHWH's voice brings birth pangs on does
          as it strips the forests bare,
               And all in his temple cry, "Glory!"

YHWH sat enthroned at the flood;
      YHWH sits enthroned, King forever.
YHWH grants strength to his people;
     YHWH blesses his people with peace.

Sooner Than Saying Anything Outright Barbarous

Since in recent months I've heard or read a number of people urging the reading of George Orwell's "Politics and the English Language," I recently read it. And I'll likely read it again. I can't say I agree with everything it says, but it would do much good no doubt if heeded. You can follow the link above to read the whole of it. Here I only want to reproduce the six rules that Orwell gives for one to decide whether or not to used a word or phrase.

1. Never use a metaphor, simile, or other figure of speech which you are used to seeing in print.
2. Never use a long word where a short one will do.
3. If it is possible to cut a word out, always cut it out.
4. Never use the passive where you can use the active.
5. Never use a foreign phrase, a scientific word, or a jargon word if you can think of an everyday English equivalent.
6. Break any of these rules sooner than say anything outright barbarous.

Send Your Readers Off Now and Then

Speaking on writing well in the vernacular of your subject matter, Mark Tredinnick says this about writing to your target audience:

It's okay to offer readers some words they've never heard before used in the right places to mean what they're meant to mean. Writing can educate in this way, too. Send your readers off to the dictionary now and then. It might remind them to keep one handy (Writing Well, 129).

Why are some translators of the Bible committed to reaching a target audience with an eighth grade literacy level averse to this sort of advice? Would it be all that bad if a reader of the holy Bible had to learn a new word, not least one theologically loaded? Could that be all that bad for that person?

Hebrew Man Is No More

My wife is celebrating that the "Hebrew man" (which name she gave me during intensive Hebrew in the summer) is no more. I've formally finished my studies in Hebrew, having passed the Hebrew competency exam at Wheaton College on Monday and my final on Wednesday. Now the fun stuff begins--Hebrew exegesis!

A word about learning a language. This is undoubtedly a good exercise for anyone to do, not least children. The mental, and even physical discipline, necessary for accumulating all the necessary machinery to work with a language is undoubtedly strengthening and potentially character building. It requires a discipline and toughness (especially if you don't particularly enjoy the language and are working as a clinician!) that most other kinds of coursework do not require.

Nonsense Up With Which We Shall Not Put

What follows was swiped from a recent post by Doug Wilson giving writing counsel:

In the 18th century, during the ascendancy of the English dictionary makers and grammarians, it was foolishly thought that Latin was superior to English, and that things that couldn't be done in Latin, like ending sentences with prepositions, shouldn't be done in English. This is where we get the absurd rule that one must never, ever end a sentence with a preposition. As Winston Churchill put it, "that's the sort of nonsense up with which we shall not put."

Ahh, grammar and godliness.  Music to my ears, honey to my tongue, refreshment to my bones.

Greek, Hebrew, and the Love of Christ

"The main point is, with all and above all, study the Greek and Hebrew Bible, and the love of Christ" (John Wesley, 1703-1791).

Receiving Jesus as Lord, Riveted on Jesus as Lord

Verses 6 and 7 of Colossians 2 routinely are regarded as the theme verses of the book of Colossians.  And rightly so.  They are.  But the modern translations are ambiguous in English.  The end of v. 6 is a command and says in many English translations: "walk in him."  What does the in mean?  And is it the best translation to get at what Paul is after?

Now I want to digress for a moment.  I am not arguing here for a particular translation philosophy.  I actually prefer ambiguity in English translations that reflect the ambiguity in Greek, and for Bible study I also prefer to use many different translations with different translation philosophies.  So what I am saying is not a quibble with any translation's translation philosophy.

The in of v. 6 is a preposition that takes the dative: en autō, "in him."  The preposition en with the dative has a wide range of possible meanings.  And the correct possibility is always determined in large measure by the context.  And I want to suggest that contextually the best meaning is either "in the presence of" or "with reference to."  Both of these amount to roughly the same idea. 

Paul has just said "as you received Christ Jesus the Lord."  This is how the Colossians are to "walk in him."  That is, in the same way!  And how did they receive Jesus?  By believing in him as the Lord!  They recieved him as the Lord of all (cf. Col. 3:17; and 3:1 with allusion to Ps. 110).  And so they are to continue to walk with referece to him as Lord, in the presence of the one who is Lord of all.

So here is my translation of Col. 2:6-7:

Therefore, as you recieved Messiah Jesus as the Lord [of all],
so walk with reference to him [as the Lord of all],
because you have been rooted in him
and
now you are being built up in him and established in the faith,
even as you were taught,
abounding with thanksgiving.