Titles I’ve purchased:

1. KJV Bible
2. NET Bible (Noteless)
3. Star Wars: Legacy of the Force: Betrayal
4. The Message// Remix: Solo: The Uncommon Devotional

I tend to read the Bible during the morning commute and my “fluff” stuff in the afternoon when I’m tired. I’ve been looking for a way to integrate The Message into my reading and a daily devotional is as good an approach as any - though it remains to be seen whether this particular format will be appropriate or not for commuting. I’ll write more about this book when I have some time with it under my belt.

I’m disappointed that the TNIV The Books of the Bible is not readily available for Kindle - I had hoped to make that my “reading Bible”, but only the NT books are available on Amazon and for ~$40 total, whereas you can order a print version for under $10. Go figure.

Reading on the Kindle is brilliantly simple - I’m able to sit on the bus and read page after page with only the twitch of my finger on the Next Page button. This ease can not be overstated enough when you’re packed together like sardines and everyone is wearing their winter combat gear. I don’t have to worry about shifting hands to turn pages and accidentally elbowing the person sitting next to me. That said, I haven’t tried Kindle reading and drinking coffee at the same time nor have I had to read while standing on a full bus yet…

The Bookmark feature is very easy to use - flagging a “page” saves your current location in a book and you can return immediately to that spot. The Kindle even “dog ears” the page you were on to help out if you’re visually “flipping” through pages instead.

Finally, I’ve downloaded a copy of Mobipocket Creator, which promises to be able to convert PDF files to a format that is readable on the Kindle. So theoretically, I will be able to convert my PDF version of the NETS (New English Translation of the Septuagint) to a Kindle-compatible format, as well as any other articles or books I’ve collected. Of course, those wouldn’t have any coding or indexing, e.g. Table of Contents, but the content at least would be accessible.

Ironically, the closest book is in a stack that I haven’t given any attention to since I put them down by my monitor. So the top book is the closest, that being “The Canon Debate” by Lee Martin McDonald and James A. Sanders. McDonald is the uncle of a friend of ours from church and he (our friend) lent it to me to take a look…

Anyway, on to page 123:

When he summarizes the laws in A.J.3.223-286; 4.196-302, he even apologizes for digressing from the historical narrative, making it clear that the laws constitute only a small part of what Moses wrote (3.223; 4.196). This agrees with his language in C.Ap.1.39.

Nor can his famous recognition of Daniel as “one of the greatest prophets” (A.J.10.266), in contrast to the rabbinic scheme that left Daniel among the “Writings,” serve as evidence of order within Josephus’s Bible.

Um. Yeah. I doubt that I’ll be hitting that stack real soon…

I realize that John Hobbins had started a collective blogging project earlier this summer on the book(s) that inspired our childhoods… I figure I’m only four months late to the party!

Two books are coming to mind today - or more accurately, one book and a series of book:

Tove Jansson’s Moominpappa at Sea. I know now that Jansson wrote multiple books and there was even an animated cartoon on television, but my portal to the world of Moomin was this book in which the quixotic Moominpappa drags his troll family from their home across the sea to a desolate lighthouse. Followed by the mysterious Groke who freezes everything she touches while craving light and warmth, and sharing the island with a cranky old fisherman and delightful seahorses who dance in the moon light, the Moomins explore the dark and light of relationships and responsibility. I grew up surrounded by the sea and cold, so these themes resonated, as did the children’s pursuit of autonomy and freedom.

Lloyd Alexander’s Chronicles of Prydain series. This is like a poor man’s Lord of the Rings: fantasy adventure with a quest, an unlikely hero who must grow up to suceed, danger, monsters, an evil lord bent on destruction, etc. Yet good enough for the final chapter of this five-book series to win the coveted Newbery Award. And perfect for the youth yearning for adventure beyond the frozen windows of his house in the woods.

It’ll be a few years before Sam is ready to tackle these on his own, but his imagination is big enough to jump into the world of the storyteller and listen to them read out loud. Perhaps it’s time for Dad to share a bit of his youth…

I am continuing my survey of Bible Translation books, now reading Donald Kraus’ volume, Choosing a Bible For Worship, Teaching, Study, Preaching, and Prayer. Kraus is Executive Editor for Bibles at Oxford University Press and presents a fairly even-handed review of translation philosophies, from strict interlinear to cultural paraphrase, though most of his time is spent in the space between the NASB and The Message.

I wanted to note one passage from the book: his consideration of the opening verses of John. Kraus considers the RSV, NIV, NJB, NLT, Moffat, TEV, CEV, The Message and Phillips translations for this passage. After discussing the various treatments of the Greek logos, he turns to “the verb katalambano (katelaben in the text - a past tense).”

This verb means “to take (as in the hand) in such a way as to hold firmly or fully.” By extension it means “to understand, comprehend.” [...] In the final phrase of this extract, “the light shines in the darkness, but the darkness has not katelaben it,” there is a classic translator’s dilemma. The writer probably meant both “hold so as to extinguish” and “understand the nature of” — the darkness has not extinguished the light, and the darkness has not understood the real nature of the light. In English, however, it is not possible to convey both of these meanings at once, and therefore it is necessary to choose.

For reference, here are a handful of translations of the verse in question, John 1.5:

The light shines in the darkness, but the darkness has not understood it. (NIV)

The Light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not comprehend it. (NASB; cf. KJV)

The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness can never extinguish it. (NLT)

The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it. (ESV; cf. TNIV, HCSB)

The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has never mastered it. (REB)

Is Kraus correct in that there is an inherent dual meaning or ambiguity in the original Greek that cannot be represented in English? Perhaps not. In the same discussion as above, Krauss notes that “a similar overlapping meaning occurs in English with the verb ‘grasp’, which can mean both ‘hold physically’ and ‘understand’.” If we lean toward the REB’s choice of “master” instead of “extinguish” or “overcome”, then we might allow that the semantic range of “grasp” includes having control or holding firmly. Certainly the traditonal sense of “understand” or “comprehend” is included in “grasping an idea or thought.”

With that in mind, perhaps another way of translating this verse is:

The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has been unable to fully grasp it.

I suppose the ultimate question is, when faced with a scenario of ambiguous dual meaning, is it better to translate to a word that naturally communicates the full sense of one of the meanings, but not the other (and presumably footnote the alternate meaning), or translate to a word that communicates some of the semantic range of both meanings? And if the latter, can we add a modifier, like “fully” above, that strengthens  meaning while still retaining the ambiguity?

I’ve been reading the first few chapters of Fee and Strauss’ “How to Choose a Translation For All It’s Worth” with a nodding smile on my face, given the general endorsement of functional, idiomatic translation as their preferred approach to the Bible (and translation in general).

In addition to the standard Formal-to-Functional spectrum of translations, Fee and Strauss discuss the polarity of original meaning vs. contemporary relevance. Most Bibles place greater emphasis on original meaning as a means of conveying semantic accuracy, but all make accommodations for contemporary relevance, if only to convert ancient units of measure to modern equivalents, e.g. miles instead of the Greek stadia.

Some recent translations make even more accommodation to achieve contemporary relevance. The NLT is built on the premise of “the truth made clear” in an effort to communicate the message of the Bible clearly and naturally. Marketing language from Zondervan emphasizes the contemporary relevance of the TNIV:

[The TNIV has] the up-to-date language of today for readability. This rendition of Scripture provides a new choice for those who desire a contemporary [...] translation.

[...] a new translation that speaks the timeless truth of God’s Word in the language of today.

Yet, as readable as the NLT and TNIV are, they still keep the Bible’s time and culture at arms’ length, creating cultural foreignness as an essential means of retaining “accuracy”. The language may be “of today”, but the time and culture of the TNIV is not - it is of millenniums ago.

Should God’s Word be culturally isolated and passed on as a carefully preserved relic? Or should it be living and breathing and constantly reinventing itself to be relevant and applicable? Is the message in the words or in the meaning? If we translate to the meaning, shouldn’t we be translating within our own time and culture as receptors of the text? It is popular these days to laud the NLTse as an accurate functional translation (and it is), but I wonder why the more idiomatic First Edition still has so many devoted fans who refuse to “upgrade”. Is it because the language of the original, and the Living Bible before it, is closer to our own time and culture and speaks a “heart language” that the newer revision does not? Is the “heart language” of the Bible a theological treatise - or is it a vivid proclamation of the relationship between God and his people?

To this end, Eugene Peterson tried to “intentionally eliminate historical distance not only with reference to language but also with reference to time and culture.” (F&S, p.33) Fee and Strauss quote Matthew 23:27 from The Message:

You’re like manicured grave plots, grass clipped and the flowers bright, but six feet down it’s all rotting bones and worm-eaten flesh.

As you scramble for your preferred translation to see “what the text *really* says”, think about what you find. Chances are, there’s a reference to “whitewashed tombs”. Do you know what that means? I mean, RIGHT NOW, without thinking about it. This isn’t about theological nuance - it’s about your instinctive response to the English language. Personally, I know which one sounds foreign and which one sounds relevant…  and that’s why I say that the most significant - not the most formal, functional, accurate, readable, dynamic, literal, literary or idiomatic - the most significant version of the Bible available today is The Message.

And I don’t have a copy. For shame…

1. Because Jesus has come as the promised son (Isa. 9.6), there is no longer any need for religious or legal privilege to be given to fathers and sons. “Daughters are equally endowed with the Spirit and receive the same baptism,” as well as “the right to inherit the future of God’s kingdom”.
2. There is no longer a need for a child to be born who will usher in God’s kingdom, so procreation is no longer a justification for a relationship or marriage. “There is no religious duty to have a child.”
3. As a result of the previous consequence, “there is in principle no longer any need for men and women to marry [...]. Voluntary celibacy and voluntary virginity [are not] deficient ways of living.”
4. However, every new child is born for the future of God’s creation and represents a renewal of hope in the kingdom of heaven “among fallen men and women”.

Presumably, Moltmann believes that the Genesis 1 mandate to fill the earth and have dominion over it was fulfilled by Christ, the perfect human, establishing his reign over creation.

I wonder if some of these thoughts are reflected in Jesus’ comment that in the age to come, men and women “do not marry, for they are no longer subject to death. They are like angels; they are children of God, because they share in the resurrection.” (Lk. 20.35-36) Christ fulfilled the prophecy of the promised son, so procreation is no longer needed in this age or the age to come.

See also: “Grokked, not yoked?“

When he set the heavens in their place I was there,
when he girdled the ocean with the horizon,
when he fixed the canopy of clouds overhead,
and set the springs of ocean firm in their place,
when he prescribed the limits for the sea
and knit together earth’s foundations.

Then I was at his side each day,
his darling and delight,
playing in his presence continually,
playing on the earth, when he had finished it,
while my delight was in mankind. (8.27-31)

Wisdom, Sophia, the divine daughter, is a child playing next to her Father as he creates the world.

If we understand wisdom not just as a human virtue but in the first place as a presence of God in creation, then we understand why Jesus is presented in the New Testament both as Israel’s messiah and as the Wisdom of creation, so that the Christ mystery is both male and female. When the Gospel of John calls the divine mystery of Jesus the Logos, the Word of God, [then] Sophia, the Wisdom of God is meant too. Jesus is the incarnate Sophia, Jesus is the incarnate Logos — both Sophia and Logos given human form. (p.12)

With this in mind, perhaps when we run across a translation like the TNIV in Philippians 2.6-8:

[Jesus] Who, being in very nature God,
did not consider equality with God something to be used to his own advantage;

rather, he made himself nothing
by taking the very nature of a servant,
being made in human likeness.

And being found in appearance as a human being,
he humbled himself
by becoming obedient to death-
even death on a cross!

We should not howl in protest that Jesus is being made into some androgynous, genderless figure, but perhaps reflect that:

God created human beings in his own image,
in the image of God he created them;
male and female he created them.

Jesus incarnate as the perfect human being, reflecting the complete image of God as Word and Wisdom, both male and female, flesh and spirit. And when we, as Christians, declare our faith and trust in Christ and are filled with the Holy Spirit, perhaps then we too are becoming complete human beings, reflecting the image of God in physical flesh and spiritual wisdom. Our flesh can be male or female, but without Wisdom, the Spirit of God, Goethe’s eternal feminine (Ewigweibliche), we are an incomplete image of God.

In a recent comment thread at New Leaven, Bryan L presented the idea that there is a theme of a new exodus within Isaiah that some authors believe Mark adapted and structured his gospel narrative of Jesus around. Bryan cited works by Rikk Watts, Joel Marcus and David Pao.

I noted that some people think Mark’s gospel is the result of his time with Paul, e.g. a written account of the gospel message that Paul preached to the Jews and gentiles beyond Israel, and wondered if Paul might have been using this “exodus theme” as a framework for his evangelism. Bryan was unsure, but mentioned J. Ross Wagner’s book called Heralds of the Good News: Isaiah and Paul in Concert in the Letter to the Romans.

Amazon reviews mentioned that Wagner’s work was built on the work of Richard Hays, of which there were a couple of cross-promotional links - most significantly to Hays’ seminal work, Echoes of Scripture in the Letters of Paul. In the reviews, I found this gleaming nugget of a quote:

The meaning of Scripture is enacted in the Christian community, and only those who participate in the enactment can understand the text.

That’s another take on the faith and works issue, whereby works illuminate our understanding of our faith, which then bears new works. That, to me, is the process of working out our salvation and maturing as Christians - which, per Hays, only happens in the corporate community, not behind a book or individual experience.

_Works of Love_ by Kierkegaard is the most uplifting, encouraging, and hope-restoring book I have ever read. Kierkegaard’s statement that “the greatest act of love anyone can ever achieve is to mourn for someone who is dead” is a statement I have used to guide myself through innumerable existential crises and has given me hope in my darkest hours. The wisdom contained in this book is an essential tool in dealing with the premature and untimely death of a loved one, and restoring your hope and faith in God even in the face of tragedy. Kierkegaard’s sense of empathy and morality is unsurpassed by any other philosopher living or dead, and I will also go so far as to call him a saint.

Here it is. How to apply the love of God, as taught to us by Jesus, in the reality of daily life. No fancy formulas here, no clever platitudes, just the truth. A tremendous reconcilitation of the supposed contradiction between works and faith as the basis of salvation, Kierkegaard shows that in fact the letter to the Galatians explains that the essence of Christianity’s message is faith, working through love. Hence, “Works of Love”. This is Kierkegaards’ magnum opus. Not for the faint of heart nor anyone looking for an easy answer, yet amazingly simple and honest. Completely vindicates Soren Kierkegaard from the charge by narrow traditionalists ( most of whom have never read anything he wrote ) that he was not a genuine Christian, perhaps not even a Christian at all. If you wish to follow Christ, follow Kierkegaard. He is a trustworthy guide.

Kierkegaard recognizes that love is a work, and not merely a state of heart or a chattering point. This notion of work is anathema to “Pop Protestantism,” which was Kierkegaard’s mortal enemy. He commented that the obsession with “grace” had turned Christianity upside-down, and had caused men to try and cheat God out of his religion. This is another way of saying that faith without works is dead.

My wife’s family, and thus mine as well, is facing the impending death of a loved one who is far too young. As cancer consumes and devours her body, I am faced with the echoes of my mother’s death 13 years ago and reminded that our greatest works of love are rooted in the living out of our faith in Christ. I am not an empathetic person by nature and find this part of “working out my salvation” insanely difficult. I don’t know whether I will find consolation or inspiration or something else in Kierkegaard, but hope that his words are not a barren wilderness, but rich soil that bears fruit.

The people of this age marry and are given in marriage. But those who are considered worthy of taking part in the age to come and in the resurrection from the dead will neither marry nor be given in marriage, and they can no longer die; for they are like the angels. They are God’s children, since they are children of the resurrection.

It’s natural for us to ponder what relationships in the Kingdom of Heaven will be like. For those of us who are (happily) married, imagining life without the most immediate presence of our spouse is almost impossible. However, as I was reading Harold Best’s Unceasing Worship (almost done!) the introductory paragraph to a section on love and quality struck me as perhaps applicable to thinking about our relationships in the age to come:

Love is unconditional. Love loves everything except evil. The love of neighbor takes in everything about that neighbor. The only kind of selective love that has any sanctity is marital love. But selective love of this kind only goes so far - only as far as the beginning fact of courtship and the continuing circumstances of marriage. It applies to two people at a time as they continue to choose each other, ethically and lovingly, for as long as they have life. But even in the best possible marriage, this turns out to be insufficient. My love for my wife and hers for me are brought to their highest heights by the transformation of selective love into neighborly love. Selectivity is metamorphed into all-preceding love by which I am to conduct all of my affairs on this earth. This all-preceding love is love of neighbor. My wife, beyond being one with me, becomes my neighbor. This both remakes my love for her and elevates my concept of my neighbor, both of which I now select comprehensively and unconditionally. (pp.197-198)

Best cites Søren Kierkegaard’s Works of Love as bringing this thought to fruition in his heart. I guess that’s another title for my reading list…

I interpret “all-preceding love” as servant love, putting the needs of others before my selfish desires and inclinations. The concept of marital love being somehow less than the love we are called to in all of our relationships seems turned on its head from our normal way of thinking, but I think I understand his point. Especially if you use the “golden rule” as the ruler for marital gender relationships - I treat my wife as I would expect to be treated in a relationship. There is no stringent hierarchical “headship” or loose androgynous equality. We each have areas where we naturally lead and we each have areas where we are more easily led.

These combinations of strengths and weaknesses make us one in the image of God. The question then, based on Best’s quote, is whether in the age to come, all of our relationships will be perfectly realized such that we are one with every other person and as a community - serving and worshiping God together, not selectively yoked to one partner, but grokked with all.