Monday, January 10, 2011
E'erbody holla!
It's official! I am a freshman at Moody Bible Institute beginning classes on Tuesday and I don't think it's possible for me to be more psyched! I'm thrilled that God has provided the means that I may attend and further my education- the opening of the door is so plainly and evidently by His design. Praise the Lord!
Thursday, January 6, 2011
Daze of Christmas Post, part the first
It doesn’t seem possible, but my and Kristin’s second Christmas as man and wife has come and gone, filling me with a sense of contentment and gratitude to God for granting me the love of my life, and a sense of wonder at the swift passage of time that has brought us this far already.
Christmas Break heralded its arrival with the return of Joel, Jared, and Jason Amundson from school to the soft plains and rolling hills of southern Wisconsin. Fresh snow lay blanketed across the landscape, traversing the noisome metropolis of West Allis to the subdued hamlets of Rock County and stretching all the way to the bustling cityscape of Rockford, Illinois, enveloping all the Midwest it seemed in its white, powdery embrace.
Kristin began her two weeks off from work by leaving the school early on Friday the 17th so as to prepare for the kids’ activity at church which we were in charge of that night. I looked forward to the insanity to come with eager anticipation and tackled the evening headlong with feverish frivolity. I did not expect however to fulfill a similar role the following morning during Choir practice, but some of the kids waiting on their parents to finish singing were a little on the rambunctious side (understandably so, I mean). Seeing the nervous eyes of moms and dads darting back and forth from sheet music to their kids shouting and playing with reckless abandon, I took the bull by the proverbial horns and corralled the kiddies into the church lobby for semi-organized mayhem so as to leave the Choir in relative peace and quiet. Three important life lessons gleaned from those precious moments:
Sunday witnessed the magisterial Christmas cantata at Morning Star which Kristin sang in and melted my heart. In a wonderfully providential turn of events, my dad and grandma visited to see the performance and were thanked by being paraded around by yours truly to be introduced to practically everyone who regularly attends. I’m so thankful they were able to hear beautiful music celebrating the majesty and awe of the Incarnation in addition to Jess Miller preaching on the preexistence and lordship of the newborn Jesus we are presented with in the Nativity story. And now everyone at church can put faces to the names, so it truly is a colossal win!
We stayed in Rockford for lunch with Kristin’s mom and Anna before going back for the evening service to see the children’s Christmas program (arranged by Brian Hanson- kudos!). It was upon returning home that night that we made the awful discovery of Mrs. Hudziak’s passing. A tragic and inauspicious beginning to Christmas Break, indeed. Kristin’s presence was tremendous consolation in that dark time as we offered our farewells to the most precious of rodents in the history of the 21st century.
Sadness gave way to joy soon afterwards however when Joel called me to join him and his clan in watching the Packer game (though that turned out to be a scandal and an outrage… I still don’t like talking about it) at their country manor in Milton. I stayed long after the (terrible) game was finished, talking, trying to render some characters with a new animation program Joel has, and watching videos of terrible guitarists shredding it up. When I say “terrible,” I don’t mean terrible in terms of technical ability, because these dudes can rip 64th note, sweep picked and/or tapped solos in B Lydian (with occasional forays into B Ionian just to show they really know what they’re doing) like no one’s business! It’s hilarious to watch, but is of precisely zero musical value to anyone with the emotional aptitude of a fifth grader. Needless to say, we giggled like giddy schoolgirls ‘til the wee hours of the morning.****
Monday was spent lounging for the most part and sleeping in for the first time in a long time (what a novelty!), knowing what the rest of the week would hold for us: madness! Madness!
We drove up to West Allis the following day to pick up Ben and Sarah so they could stay in Janesville for a few days and help around the house at Kristin’s parents’ in anticipation of Uncle Bob and Aunt Sandy coming to visit; this manifested itself as a three day odyssey in which significant headway was made with, as Winston Churchill once said, “blood, toil, tears and sweat.”***** We all grew closer to one another through our solidarity in giving Mom and Dad a hand; when the going got tough, we could take refuge in each other’s humor. Together we persevered. Sarah’s dog Chutney, however, couldn’t help out that much and lamentably found herself cooped up at our apartment whilst we labored at Mom and Dad’s, but soldiered on in those lonesome hours by seeking solace in the soothing R&B of our Motown mix CD. I’m pretty sure Chutney knows all the lyrics to “I Can’t Help Myself (Sugar Pie Honey Bunch)” by the Four Tops by heart now.
A few trips with Ben to Menard’s, Home Depot, Sears, Best Buy, and Ace Hardware later and we had new blinds but none of the appliances we went in search of in the first place! I also made my first solo voyage to the dump and was verbally accosted by four dudes which I in turn handled in a totally unbiblical manner via my quick wit. Later, I discovered I may have misunderstood their banter, interpreting it in the wrong light entirely and that they may in fact only have been giving me directions for proper dump etiquette. Shame on you, me!
Our endeavors at Mom and Dad’s were brought to an earlier end Thursday as I had to work, so Kristin, Ben, Sarah, Anna and I took the opportunity to have lunch at Noodles and Co. (gotta love free lunch coupons!) and to finish some Christmas shopping so we could complete our inventories for the following day’s planned gift exchange in West Allis. That night, spent from the past few days’ efforts, we slept the sleep of champions, like cherubs in repose.
I don’t really know what that last phrase means exactly… but suffice it to say, we slept well!
Anyway, that takes us through Thursday the 23rd, and there’s far more yet to delve into, so stay tuned for more madcap hijinks, hilarious bedlam, zany misadventures, and clever turns of phrase should the Lord so will it.
*It’s kinda like a pre-K Vietnam if you think about it.
**They told me so, too, which is even more humiliating.
***If West Point ever offers this as a course, I would hope they’ll call me to teach it.
****Thank you, Michael Angelo Batio and your double neck, ambidextrous guitar skills.
*****Not “blood, sweat and tears” as it is so often misquoted.
Christmas Break heralded its arrival with the return of Joel, Jared, and Jason Amundson from school to the soft plains and rolling hills of southern Wisconsin. Fresh snow lay blanketed across the landscape, traversing the noisome metropolis of West Allis to the subdued hamlets of Rock County and stretching all the way to the bustling cityscape of Rockford, Illinois, enveloping all the Midwest it seemed in its white, powdery embrace.
Kristin began her two weeks off from work by leaving the school early on Friday the 17th so as to prepare for the kids’ activity at church which we were in charge of that night. I looked forward to the insanity to come with eager anticipation and tackled the evening headlong with feverish frivolity. I did not expect however to fulfill a similar role the following morning during Choir practice, but some of the kids waiting on their parents to finish singing were a little on the rambunctious side (understandably so, I mean). Seeing the nervous eyes of moms and dads darting back and forth from sheet music to their kids shouting and playing with reckless abandon, I took the bull by the proverbial horns and corralled the kiddies into the church lobby for semi-organized mayhem so as to leave the Choir in relative peace and quiet. Three important life lessons gleaned from those precious moments:
- Wrestling with four- through six-year-olds will ultimately end in your defeat. You’re stronger than they are. But you will never, ever have the endurance or patience to suffer defeat after defeat that they do. You will win the first 400 battles, but they will win the war.*
- As much as I love Star Wars: Battlefront 2, I’m absolutely terrible at it on PSP. I got pwned.** By the same four- through six-year-olds previously alluded to.
- There are some Transformers which I simply do not know how to transform from robot mode to vehicle mode or vice versa. At risk of sounding old, they were a lot easier to figure out in the 80s.
Sunday witnessed the magisterial Christmas cantata at Morning Star which Kristin sang in and melted my heart. In a wonderfully providential turn of events, my dad and grandma visited to see the performance and were thanked by being paraded around by yours truly to be introduced to practically everyone who regularly attends. I’m so thankful they were able to hear beautiful music celebrating the majesty and awe of the Incarnation in addition to Jess Miller preaching on the preexistence and lordship of the newborn Jesus we are presented with in the Nativity story. And now everyone at church can put faces to the names, so it truly is a colossal win!
We stayed in Rockford for lunch with Kristin’s mom and Anna before going back for the evening service to see the children’s Christmas program (arranged by Brian Hanson- kudos!). It was upon returning home that night that we made the awful discovery of Mrs. Hudziak’s passing. A tragic and inauspicious beginning to Christmas Break, indeed. Kristin’s presence was tremendous consolation in that dark time as we offered our farewells to the most precious of rodents in the history of the 21st century.
Sadness gave way to joy soon afterwards however when Joel called me to join him and his clan in watching the Packer game (though that turned out to be a scandal and an outrage… I still don’t like talking about it) at their country manor in Milton. I stayed long after the (terrible) game was finished, talking, trying to render some characters with a new animation program Joel has, and watching videos of terrible guitarists shredding it up. When I say “terrible,” I don’t mean terrible in terms of technical ability, because these dudes can rip 64th note, sweep picked and/or tapped solos in B Lydian (with occasional forays into B Ionian just to show they really know what they’re doing) like no one’s business! It’s hilarious to watch, but is of precisely zero musical value to anyone with the emotional aptitude of a fifth grader. Needless to say, we giggled like giddy schoolgirls ‘til the wee hours of the morning.****
Monday was spent lounging for the most part and sleeping in for the first time in a long time (what a novelty!), knowing what the rest of the week would hold for us: madness! Madness!
We drove up to West Allis the following day to pick up Ben and Sarah so they could stay in Janesville for a few days and help around the house at Kristin’s parents’ in anticipation of Uncle Bob and Aunt Sandy coming to visit; this manifested itself as a three day odyssey in which significant headway was made with, as Winston Churchill once said, “blood, toil, tears and sweat.”***** We all grew closer to one another through our solidarity in giving Mom and Dad a hand; when the going got tough, we could take refuge in each other’s humor. Together we persevered. Sarah’s dog Chutney, however, couldn’t help out that much and lamentably found herself cooped up at our apartment whilst we labored at Mom and Dad’s, but soldiered on in those lonesome hours by seeking solace in the soothing R&B of our Motown mix CD. I’m pretty sure Chutney knows all the lyrics to “I Can’t Help Myself (Sugar Pie Honey Bunch)” by the Four Tops by heart now.
A few trips with Ben to Menard’s, Home Depot, Sears, Best Buy, and Ace Hardware later and we had new blinds but none of the appliances we went in search of in the first place! I also made my first solo voyage to the dump and was verbally accosted by four dudes which I in turn handled in a totally unbiblical manner via my quick wit. Later, I discovered I may have misunderstood their banter, interpreting it in the wrong light entirely and that they may in fact only have been giving me directions for proper dump etiquette. Shame on you, me!
Our endeavors at Mom and Dad’s were brought to an earlier end Thursday as I had to work, so Kristin, Ben, Sarah, Anna and I took the opportunity to have lunch at Noodles and Co. (gotta love free lunch coupons!) and to finish some Christmas shopping so we could complete our inventories for the following day’s planned gift exchange in West Allis. That night, spent from the past few days’ efforts, we slept the sleep of champions, like cherubs in repose.
I don’t really know what that last phrase means exactly… but suffice it to say, we slept well!
Anyway, that takes us through Thursday the 23rd, and there’s far more yet to delve into, so stay tuned for more madcap hijinks, hilarious bedlam, zany misadventures, and clever turns of phrase should the Lord so will it.
**They told me so, too, which is even more humiliating.
***If West Point ever offers this as a course, I would hope they’ll call me to teach it.
****Thank you, Michael Angelo Batio and your double neck, ambidextrous guitar skills.
*****Not “blood, sweat and tears” as it is so often misquoted.
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
Random Polemic, or "The Last 400 Years Have Been Great, But We've Hired New Help"
Before I get to reviewing the last couple of weeks in a day or two, there's two things I suddenly find that I have to cover briefly:
The historico-grammatical hermeneutic advocates a plain reading of what the text states according to its ordinary, grammatical meaning aided by an understanding of the writer's time and place and the terms, tone, and metaphors he or she thus uses; it has no place for the irresponsible allegorizing of the medieval age, nor for the hyperliteralism you witness in the circles which advocate the two points discussed above. While it is true that a plain reading of Scripture will most often offer a literal perspective on a particular passage, and while allegory is utilized in many distinct places throughout the Bible, it is a mistake to state absolutely that this or the other is the only manner in which Scripture as a whole must be understood. The key to determining a passage's intended meaning is dictated by the passage itself; Scripture interprets Scripture and will set the framework necessary for understanding not only a given text, but the entire organic unity of the Bible itself. This is the essence of the historico-grammatical hermeneutic, and basically means that you ride shotgun while Scripture takes the wheel and clues you in to what it's trying to say, not what you want it to say. Marrying this method of interpretation to a theology which envisions different modes of salvation throughout the course of human history is a slippery slope which, if followed through to conclusion, will crack the grammatico-historical lens and leave us blind in the wilderness.
The Textus Receptus ("the Received Text"), to open the second can of worms, is kind of a joke. Not a good joke, though- it's like when your awkward uncle that no one particularly likes comes to your birthday party and laughs a little too hard when he remembers out loud (very loud) when your dog was put down on your birthday years ago. Something more along those lines. To begin with, there isn't even a Textus Receptus; several editions throughout the past five centuries have carried the name, many of them attempts to improve the text first delivered by the Dutch humanist Desiderius Erasmus, but there is no single edition of the text that is the alone, exclusively titled and identified Textus Receptus. Second, the TR is riddled with problems, problems we do not encounter through the study of manuscripts far more numerous and oftentimes far older than the texts Erasmus had at his disposal.
The first published Greek New Testament appeared in 1516 and was an attempt to restore the Greek texts available to their Apostolic purity. Erasmus consolidated a tiny portion of manuscripts (seven!) which he had immediate access to in Basel, all of them belonging to the Byzantine textual family, and relied primarily upon two of them which dated from the twelfth century.1 It was not known as the Textus Receptus however until 1633 due to a notation in Latin on the cover of the second edition from its publishers Bonaventura and Abraham Elzevir (Textum ergo habes, nunc ad omnibus receptus, e.g. "Therefore you have the text now received by all." Kind of a letdown for an origin story, eh? I figured there would be at least one curse involved with a phrase as nefarious-sounding as that!).2 The term was applied to prior editions of the text and to the revisions thereof over the following century. For a parallel, think of Great Britain's constitution- they don't have one! They possess several documents stretching back nearly 1,000 years from which they regulate the processes and statutes of their government. In the same manner, "Textus Receptus" is a term retroactively applied to a series of related documents, having Erasmus' 1516 edition as their source.
The many editions subsequent to the 1516 text are essentially reprints of the original as edited by Erasmus, with only minor variations on the part of scholars such as Theodore Beza and Robertus Stephanus. The editions themselves have an eerie similarity and uniformity about them due to the fact that they originate from Erasmus' text and are not the result of studying and compiling a multitude of Greek manuscripts; this is plainly evidenced by the numerous readings which are unique to Erasmus' text. These readings found exclusively with Erasmus are due to the meager availability of manuscript evidence he had to work with- in many instances, Erasmus did not have complete texts to compile (case in point: he had only one copy of Revelation, and it was missing six verses!), and when this occurred, he would back-translate the old Latin Vulgate to Greek.* Any peculiarities in the Vulgate reading thus found themselves in the Textus Receptus. Unfortunately, these peculiarities have no corroboration from any Greek manuscripts, meaning the TR is fundamentally flawed. In a more positive light, however, we are able to pinpoint these flaws with accuracy. When each of the old TRs are examined and unique readings such as "book of life" in Revelation 22:19 are discovered, we can know that it is a result of copying word-for-word Erasmus' edition (or one of its descendants) because every known Greek manuscript reads differently; "book of life" comes from the back-translation of the Vulgate, whereas every manuscript known to exist reads "tree of life."
Understand now that I'm not bashing the King James version as such- I'm only trying to demonstrate the impossibility of logically maintaining the King James Only position. It can't be done. To insist that the "texts that underlie the King James Bible are the very words which God has preserved down through the centuries, being the exact words of the originals themselves"3 is far-fetched and not a little irresponsible in light of the facts.
Unfortunately, both of the aforementioned points often go hand in hand (not always, I readily admit, but by and large there is a correlation); the two streams many times will unite to form one confluence which floods over the orthodox doctrinal understandings recovered during the Reformation. It's almost inevitable that when sound principles of interpretation are abandoned our fallenness will wreak havoc with our theology. We will find grounds for unbiblical assumptions when we separate ourselves from the mainstream of orthodoxy stretching back to the faith once for all delivered to the saints (Jude 3). And when non-adherence to these two points is seen as red flag for the need to be evangelized, something is terribly, terribly wrong.
I know this will take me further afield then I originally intended with this post, but confirmation of the second point also runs counter to the published claims of the Authorized Version (KJV) translators themselves! Let's hear a little from these dudes. In the original preface to the 1611 Version they wrote,**
Now to the later we answere: that wee doe not deny, nay wee affirme and auow, that the very meanest translation of the Bible in English, set foorth by men of our profession (for wee haue seene none of theirs of the whole Bible as yet) containeth the word of God, nay, is the word of God. As the Kings Speech which hee vttered in Parliament, being translated into French, Dutch, Italian and Latine, is still the Kings Speech, though it be not interpreted by euery Translator with the like grace, nor peraduenture so fitly for phrase, nor so expresly for sense, euery where.
The phrase "the very meanest translation" denotes inferior translations, so take note of what is being said: even translations which did not conform to the scholarship and precise wording of the King James translators contain and are the word of God. This is devastating to the King James Only position and quite possibly a reason the Preface is no longer published with King James Versions anymore. Also take note:
A man may be counted a vertuous man, though hee haue made many slips in his life, (els, there were none vertuous, for in many things we offend all) also a comely man and louely, though hee haue some warts vpon his hand, yea, not onely freakles vpon his face, but also skarres. No cause therefore why the word translated should bee denied to be the word, or forbidden to be currant, notwithstanding that some imperfections and blemishes may be noted in the setting forth of it. For what euer was perfect vnder the Sunne, where Apostles or Apostolike men, that is, men indued with an extraordinary measure of Gods spirit, and priuiledged with the priuiledge of infallibilitie, had not their hand?
"Forbidden to be current" means translated into the vernacular, i.e. the common speech of those who will be reading the translation. The translators clearly believed that it was essential that the text be understandable to the reader in a plain manner (which is consistent with Scriptural principle, e.g. 1 Corinthians 14:7-19. Paul here states that speaking in tongues will not edify the greater body of believers because their minds will not actively understand to the fullest what is being said- he then draws this principle out to song, prayer, and exhortation, and in so doing demonstrates that the mind must not be passive in any element of worship or spiritual service. The faculties of the mind must be engaged for anyone to be built up, otherwise the "mind is unfruitful" Paul says in verse 14. Your mind can't take a break if your goal is to glorify God and grow in the knowledge of the holy, in other words- this principle is plainly of great importance to this debate, as you can see.)
Now through the Church were thus furnished with Greeke and Latine Translations, euen before the faith of CHRIST was generally embraced in the Empire : (for the learned know that even in S. Hieroms time, the Consul of Rome and his wife were both Ethnicks, and about the same time the greatest part of the Senate also) yet for all that the godly-learned were not content to haue the Scriptures in the Language which themselues vnderstood, Greeke and Latine, (as the good Lepers were not content to fare well themselues, but acquainted their neighbours with the store that God had sent, that they also might prouide for themselues) but also for the behoofe and edifying of the vnlearned which hungered and thirsted after Righteousnesse, and had soules to be saued as well as they, they prouided Translations into the vulgar for their Countreymen, insomuch that most nations vnder heauen did shortly after their conuersion, heare CHRIST speaking vnto them in their mother tongue, not by the voyce of their Minister onely, but also by the written word translated.
Man- pwned! Any one of these guys would have been busted by modern KJO proponents for their heretical views on translation (among other points).*** The irony is murderous.
I meant to only address the first two points briefly, but that obviously flew out the window pretty fast. In light of all this, though, let's resolve to keep our thinking caps on and discern with the Spirit's aid what is good and true and affirm that which God's Word does proclaim, for in embracing that we will guard ourselves from error. As promised, I'll cover highlights from the past two weeks in the days ahead, so stay tuned, eh?****
*Pretty bogus way to arrive at a Greek New Testament if you ask me! But then again, I haven't contributed anything meaningful to the Church as of yet, so maybe I need to just cool it...
**I'm really sorry about all the Middle English here, but... it does look kinda cool, dunnit?
***Need I mention that none of these gentlemen were Dispensationalists either? (Sorry- was that below the belt?)
****"Eh?" West Allis is really rubbing off on me.
1 William W. Combs, Erasmus and the Textus Receptus, Detroit Baptist Seminary Journal, DBSJ 1 (Spring 1996): 35–53
2 Douglas Kutilek. (May 24, 1996). Westcott & Hort vs. Textus Receptus: Which is Superior?
3 D.A. Waite, Defending the King James Bible (Collingswood, NJ: Bible For Today Publishers, 1992), 48–49.
- You cannot with logical consistency be committed to the historico-grammatical interpretation of Scripture and claim that the dispensational hermeneutic is the only correct interpretation of Scripture.
- You cannot claim that God has preserved His Word through the ages and claim that the Textus Receptus is the sole, true manuscript tradition preserving His Word.
The historico-grammatical hermeneutic advocates a plain reading of what the text states according to its ordinary, grammatical meaning aided by an understanding of the writer's time and place and the terms, tone, and metaphors he or she thus uses; it has no place for the irresponsible allegorizing of the medieval age, nor for the hyperliteralism you witness in the circles which advocate the two points discussed above. While it is true that a plain reading of Scripture will most often offer a literal perspective on a particular passage, and while allegory is utilized in many distinct places throughout the Bible, it is a mistake to state absolutely that this or the other is the only manner in which Scripture as a whole must be understood. The key to determining a passage's intended meaning is dictated by the passage itself; Scripture interprets Scripture and will set the framework necessary for understanding not only a given text, but the entire organic unity of the Bible itself. This is the essence of the historico-grammatical hermeneutic, and basically means that you ride shotgun while Scripture takes the wheel and clues you in to what it's trying to say, not what you want it to say. Marrying this method of interpretation to a theology which envisions different modes of salvation throughout the course of human history is a slippery slope which, if followed through to conclusion, will crack the grammatico-historical lens and leave us blind in the wilderness.
The Textus Receptus ("the Received Text"), to open the second can of worms, is kind of a joke. Not a good joke, though- it's like when your awkward uncle that no one particularly likes comes to your birthday party and laughs a little too hard when he remembers out loud (very loud) when your dog was put down on your birthday years ago. Something more along those lines. To begin with, there isn't even a Textus Receptus; several editions throughout the past five centuries have carried the name, many of them attempts to improve the text first delivered by the Dutch humanist Desiderius Erasmus, but there is no single edition of the text that is the alone, exclusively titled and identified Textus Receptus. Second, the TR is riddled with problems, problems we do not encounter through the study of manuscripts far more numerous and oftentimes far older than the texts Erasmus had at his disposal.
The first published Greek New Testament appeared in 1516 and was an attempt to restore the Greek texts available to their Apostolic purity. Erasmus consolidated a tiny portion of manuscripts (seven!) which he had immediate access to in Basel, all of them belonging to the Byzantine textual family, and relied primarily upon two of them which dated from the twelfth century.1 It was not known as the Textus Receptus however until 1633 due to a notation in Latin on the cover of the second edition from its publishers Bonaventura and Abraham Elzevir (Textum ergo habes, nunc ad omnibus receptus, e.g. "Therefore you have the text now received by all." Kind of a letdown for an origin story, eh? I figured there would be at least one curse involved with a phrase as nefarious-sounding as that!).2 The term was applied to prior editions of the text and to the revisions thereof over the following century. For a parallel, think of Great Britain's constitution- they don't have one! They possess several documents stretching back nearly 1,000 years from which they regulate the processes and statutes of their government. In the same manner, "Textus Receptus" is a term retroactively applied to a series of related documents, having Erasmus' 1516 edition as their source.
The many editions subsequent to the 1516 text are essentially reprints of the original as edited by Erasmus, with only minor variations on the part of scholars such as Theodore Beza and Robertus Stephanus. The editions themselves have an eerie similarity and uniformity about them due to the fact that they originate from Erasmus' text and are not the result of studying and compiling a multitude of Greek manuscripts; this is plainly evidenced by the numerous readings which are unique to Erasmus' text. These readings found exclusively with Erasmus are due to the meager availability of manuscript evidence he had to work with- in many instances, Erasmus did not have complete texts to compile (case in point: he had only one copy of Revelation, and it was missing six verses!), and when this occurred, he would back-translate the old Latin Vulgate to Greek.* Any peculiarities in the Vulgate reading thus found themselves in the Textus Receptus. Unfortunately, these peculiarities have no corroboration from any Greek manuscripts, meaning the TR is fundamentally flawed. In a more positive light, however, we are able to pinpoint these flaws with accuracy. When each of the old TRs are examined and unique readings such as "book of life" in Revelation 22:19 are discovered, we can know that it is a result of copying word-for-word Erasmus' edition (or one of its descendants) because every known Greek manuscript reads differently; "book of life" comes from the back-translation of the Vulgate, whereas every manuscript known to exist reads "tree of life."
Understand now that I'm not bashing the King James version as such- I'm only trying to demonstrate the impossibility of logically maintaining the King James Only position. It can't be done. To insist that the "texts that underlie the King James Bible are the very words which God has preserved down through the centuries, being the exact words of the originals themselves"3 is far-fetched and not a little irresponsible in light of the facts.
Unfortunately, both of the aforementioned points often go hand in hand (not always, I readily admit, but by and large there is a correlation); the two streams many times will unite to form one confluence which floods over the orthodox doctrinal understandings recovered during the Reformation. It's almost inevitable that when sound principles of interpretation are abandoned our fallenness will wreak havoc with our theology. We will find grounds for unbiblical assumptions when we separate ourselves from the mainstream of orthodoxy stretching back to the faith once for all delivered to the saints (Jude 3). And when non-adherence to these two points is seen as red flag for the need to be evangelized, something is terribly, terribly wrong.
I know this will take me further afield then I originally intended with this post, but confirmation of the second point also runs counter to the published claims of the Authorized Version (KJV) translators themselves! Let's hear a little from these dudes. In the original preface to the 1611 Version they wrote,**
Now to the later we answere: that wee doe not deny, nay wee affirme and auow, that the very meanest translation of the Bible in English, set foorth by men of our profession (for wee haue seene none of theirs of the whole Bible as yet) containeth the word of God, nay, is the word of God. As the Kings Speech which hee vttered in Parliament, being translated into French, Dutch, Italian and Latine, is still the Kings Speech, though it be not interpreted by euery Translator with the like grace, nor peraduenture so fitly for phrase, nor so expresly for sense, euery where.
The phrase "the very meanest translation" denotes inferior translations, so take note of what is being said: even translations which did not conform to the scholarship and precise wording of the King James translators contain and are the word of God. This is devastating to the King James Only position and quite possibly a reason the Preface is no longer published with King James Versions anymore. Also take note:
A man may be counted a vertuous man, though hee haue made many slips in his life, (els, there were none vertuous, for in many things we offend all) also a comely man and louely, though hee haue some warts vpon his hand, yea, not onely freakles vpon his face, but also skarres. No cause therefore why the word translated should bee denied to be the word, or forbidden to be currant, notwithstanding that some imperfections and blemishes may be noted in the setting forth of it. For what euer was perfect vnder the Sunne, where Apostles or Apostolike men, that is, men indued with an extraordinary measure of Gods spirit, and priuiledged with the priuiledge of infallibilitie, had not their hand?
"Forbidden to be current" means translated into the vernacular, i.e. the common speech of those who will be reading the translation. The translators clearly believed that it was essential that the text be understandable to the reader in a plain manner (which is consistent with Scriptural principle, e.g. 1 Corinthians 14:7-19. Paul here states that speaking in tongues will not edify the greater body of believers because their minds will not actively understand to the fullest what is being said- he then draws this principle out to song, prayer, and exhortation, and in so doing demonstrates that the mind must not be passive in any element of worship or spiritual service. The faculties of the mind must be engaged for anyone to be built up, otherwise the "mind is unfruitful" Paul says in verse 14. Your mind can't take a break if your goal is to glorify God and grow in the knowledge of the holy, in other words- this principle is plainly of great importance to this debate, as you can see.)
Now through the Church were thus furnished with Greeke and Latine Translations, euen before the faith of CHRIST was generally embraced in the Empire : (for the learned know that even in S. Hieroms time, the Consul of Rome and his wife were both Ethnicks, and about the same time the greatest part of the Senate also) yet for all that the godly-learned were not content to haue the Scriptures in the Language which themselues vnderstood, Greeke and Latine, (as the good Lepers were not content to fare well themselues, but acquainted their neighbours with the store that God had sent, that they also might prouide for themselues) but also for the behoofe and edifying of the vnlearned which hungered and thirsted after Righteousnesse, and had soules to be saued as well as they, they prouided Translations into the vulgar for their Countreymen, insomuch that most nations vnder heauen did shortly after their conuersion, heare CHRIST speaking vnto them in their mother tongue, not by the voyce of their Minister onely, but also by the written word translated.
Man- pwned! Any one of these guys would have been busted by modern KJO proponents for their heretical views on translation (among other points).*** The irony is murderous.
I meant to only address the first two points briefly, but that obviously flew out the window pretty fast. In light of all this, though, let's resolve to keep our thinking caps on and discern with the Spirit's aid what is good and true and affirm that which God's Word does proclaim, for in embracing that we will guard ourselves from error. As promised, I'll cover highlights from the past two weeks in the days ahead, so stay tuned, eh?****
*Pretty bogus way to arrive at a Greek New Testament if you ask me! But then again, I haven't contributed anything meaningful to the Church as of yet, so maybe I need to just cool it...
**I'm really sorry about all the Middle English here, but... it does look kinda cool, dunnit?
***Need I mention that none of these gentlemen were Dispensationalists either? (Sorry- was that below the belt?)
****"Eh?" West Allis is really rubbing off on me.
1 William W. Combs, Erasmus and the Textus Receptus, Detroit Baptist Seminary Journal, DBSJ 1 (Spring 1996): 35–53
2 Douglas Kutilek. (May 24, 1996). Westcott & Hort vs. Textus Receptus: Which is Superior?
3 D.A. Waite, Defending the King James Bible (Collingswood, NJ: Bible For Today Publishers, 1992), 48–49.
Friday, December 31, 2010
Who's that kid, Chuck??
Wow.
It has been a cazy (as Josiah would say) past two weeks and it will probably require a couple of posts to thoroughly and sufficiently honor and scrutinize them; suffice it to say, it was a very merry Christmas, and is currently poised to be a very happy new year. It's also important, nay, crucial to note that at midnight tonight I will not be switching my allegiance so much as I will be officially, publicly announcing my newfound loyalty to the Brewers. After much cajoling, heckling, verbal abuse, threats, and assaults upon my personal integrity, I have recognized the superior wisdom of cleaving to the Brew Crew for baseball glory; having thus set my covenantal love upon them, I will be steadfast in my faithfulness to their cause and will pray imprecatory prayers against all who would broker opposition to their might.
...or something like that...
I have reliable information from worthy sources that I will not be disowned for this turn of events, but I'm keeping my fingers crossed nevertheless.
Goodbye, Cubs. Rest in peace. (Or pieces, rather!)*
Phil and Deanna's party awaits us, and if I have anything to say about it, much sparkling grape juice will be consumed as 2011 springs upon us. Farewell, 2010- you've been good to us all. And you'll be missed more than my misplaced Cubs loyalty.**
Let's rip!
*It's comments like that that will get me disowned!
**I'm a dead man.
It has been a cazy (as Josiah would say) past two weeks and it will probably require a couple of posts to thoroughly and sufficiently honor and scrutinize them; suffice it to say, it was a very merry Christmas, and is currently poised to be a very happy new year. It's also important, nay, crucial to note that at midnight tonight I will not be switching my allegiance so much as I will be officially, publicly announcing my newfound loyalty to the Brewers. After much cajoling, heckling, verbal abuse, threats, and assaults upon my personal integrity, I have recognized the superior wisdom of cleaving to the Brew Crew for baseball glory; having thus set my covenantal love upon them, I will be steadfast in my faithfulness to their cause and will pray imprecatory prayers against all who would broker opposition to their might.
...or something like that...
I have reliable information from worthy sources that I will not be disowned for this turn of events, but I'm keeping my fingers crossed nevertheless.
Goodbye, Cubs. Rest in peace. (Or pieces, rather!)*
Phil and Deanna's party awaits us, and if I have anything to say about it, much sparkling grape juice will be consumed as 2011 springs upon us. Farewell, 2010- you've been good to us all. And you'll be missed more than my misplaced Cubs loyalty.**
Let's rip!
*It's comments like that that will get me disowned!
**I'm a dead man.
Monday, December 20, 2010
The End of an Era
Wheeljack Hudziak: 2008- December 19, 2010
Wheeljack was a hamster beloved by many during her short sojourn in this world; a faithful companion and guardian*, resolutely standing by her master and keeping a watchful eye upon his domain and loved ones.** Wheeljack entered my life around Christmas of 2008, a wee little nugget with her sister Ivan II (soon to be renamed Ivana, who tragically perished in the spring of 2009***) and took up residence in my humble apartment by the Courthouse. I named her after my favorite Autobot from the original Transformers cartoon (he developed the Dinobots- he was tight!). She felt at home with my simplistic furnishings and delighted in rolling around our home in her green, translucent ball, and endlessly spinning her wheel in her cage (which was actually an old fishtank someone at work had given me, but hey! It worked!). She enjoyed going through chew toys like a wood chipper, burrowing, scurrying around her habitat, watching seasons of The Office and Battlestar Galactica with me, and listening to Mahler, Strauss, and the earlier work of Miles Davis (before he began experimenting with jazz-rock fusion).****
The summer of 2009 witnessed Wheeljack taking up the mantle of Home Defender as Kristin and I went to Camp Chetek the first time, and thanklessly she persevered in that duty, going long stretches without human companionship until our return in August. Only two months later and Kristin and I were married and Wheeljack fond herself the patroness of our newfound matrimonial bliss. Ah, the many nights of not being able to sleep as she would spin her wheel without end, invigorated and thrilled to run at a clip that would probably cause my lungs to disintegrate- she always was a night owl. She protected our home once more in the summer of 2010 as we returned to Camp Chetek as lead counselors, but we returned home more frequently this time and kept her company on far more occasions than previously; sweet reunions were had with her each time we had to travel back to Janesville, and she threw a rollicking welcome home shindig when we ultimately came back home for good.
Although I had noticed of late how her pelt grew to a more noticeably hoary hue, I banished all thoughts of her growing old and of the inevitability that one day Wheeljack would shuffle off her mortal coil and depart from us. Yesterday before heading off for church, I checked up on her and saw that she had a halting gait and uneasiness to her step. I was of course concerned, but was already running late, so we had to take off, sad to see the effects of aging becoming manifest. Later last night upon our return, I went to investigate and see how she was doing, and found her- silent, upon her side. Her eyes were closed, mouth frozen mid-chew; I think her last memory would have been of enjoying a fruit-flavored wood block before giving up the ghost. I believe that it was a peaceful passing for an honored member of our family.
I guess I had forgotten exactly what the average lifespan of a hamster is, so I admit to daydreams of bequeathing Mrs. Hudziak to our kids; turns out they usually only live somewhere around two years or so, so I can say with confidence that she had a good run. I can also say with assurance that Mrs. Hudziak was loved, and loved being a part of the Olson home. Wheeljack Hudziak saw me through two apartments, a host of personal and spiritual changes, two summers at camp, one year of marriage, and countless nights otherwise spent alone working on epic, future history science fiction sagas.***** God rest ye, Wheeljack- you will be missed!
*Hey, you know what skeptics? My apartment hasn't been broken into once since her arrival upon the scene, so I'd have to say she did a pretty good job for two years straight!
**...and the other eye upon her spinning wheel.
***And even more tragically ended up slightly cannibalized... that was a weird day for sure.
****She also really dug Bolt Thrower- I never could explain that one.
*****They were in fact co-authored works, so if and when they're ever published, they will have her name on the covers too. Mrs. Hudziak had brilliant ideas and helped developed a coherent sociological framework to the stories.
Wheeljack was a hamster beloved by many during her short sojourn in this world; a faithful companion and guardian*, resolutely standing by her master and keeping a watchful eye upon his domain and loved ones.** Wheeljack entered my life around Christmas of 2008, a wee little nugget with her sister Ivan II (soon to be renamed Ivana, who tragically perished in the spring of 2009***) and took up residence in my humble apartment by the Courthouse. I named her after my favorite Autobot from the original Transformers cartoon (he developed the Dinobots- he was tight!). She felt at home with my simplistic furnishings and delighted in rolling around our home in her green, translucent ball, and endlessly spinning her wheel in her cage (which was actually an old fishtank someone at work had given me, but hey! It worked!). She enjoyed going through chew toys like a wood chipper, burrowing, scurrying around her habitat, watching seasons of The Office and Battlestar Galactica with me, and listening to Mahler, Strauss, and the earlier work of Miles Davis (before he began experimenting with jazz-rock fusion).****
The summer of 2009 witnessed Wheeljack taking up the mantle of Home Defender as Kristin and I went to Camp Chetek the first time, and thanklessly she persevered in that duty, going long stretches without human companionship until our return in August. Only two months later and Kristin and I were married and Wheeljack fond herself the patroness of our newfound matrimonial bliss. Ah, the many nights of not being able to sleep as she would spin her wheel without end, invigorated and thrilled to run at a clip that would probably cause my lungs to disintegrate- she always was a night owl. She protected our home once more in the summer of 2010 as we returned to Camp Chetek as lead counselors, but we returned home more frequently this time and kept her company on far more occasions than previously; sweet reunions were had with her each time we had to travel back to Janesville, and she threw a rollicking welcome home shindig when we ultimately came back home for good.
Although I had noticed of late how her pelt grew to a more noticeably hoary hue, I banished all thoughts of her growing old and of the inevitability that one day Wheeljack would shuffle off her mortal coil and depart from us. Yesterday before heading off for church, I checked up on her and saw that she had a halting gait and uneasiness to her step. I was of course concerned, but was already running late, so we had to take off, sad to see the effects of aging becoming manifest. Later last night upon our return, I went to investigate and see how she was doing, and found her- silent, upon her side. Her eyes were closed, mouth frozen mid-chew; I think her last memory would have been of enjoying a fruit-flavored wood block before giving up the ghost. I believe that it was a peaceful passing for an honored member of our family.
I guess I had forgotten exactly what the average lifespan of a hamster is, so I admit to daydreams of bequeathing Mrs. Hudziak to our kids; turns out they usually only live somewhere around two years or so, so I can say with confidence that she had a good run. I can also say with assurance that Mrs. Hudziak was loved, and loved being a part of the Olson home. Wheeljack Hudziak saw me through two apartments, a host of personal and spiritual changes, two summers at camp, one year of marriage, and countless nights otherwise spent alone working on epic, future history science fiction sagas.***** God rest ye, Wheeljack- you will be missed!
*Hey, you know what skeptics? My apartment hasn't been broken into once since her arrival upon the scene, so I'd have to say she did a pretty good job for two years straight!
**...and the other eye upon her spinning wheel.
***And even more tragically ended up slightly cannibalized... that was a weird day for sure.
****She also really dug Bolt Thrower- I never could explain that one.
*****They were in fact co-authored works, so if and when they're ever published, they will have her name on the covers too. Mrs. Hudziak had brilliant ideas and helped developed a coherent sociological framework to the stories.
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