In a recent sermon I found that I had to touch upon one what I consider of the trickiest passages in the Bible: 1 Timothy 2:15. Here is what this verse says: “Yet she will be saved through childbearing--if they continue in faith and love and holiness, with self-control.” Taken on its own, this is a remarkably sexist statement. But I’m convinced there is truth and freedom here if we are willing to go looking for it. Let me take a shot at explaining that passage or at least to show you how I went about trying to figure it out.

In this part of his letter to Timothy, Paul is writing about the local church and about how things are to be ordered there. He explains that the public gatherings of the church are to show some kind of order. He speaks of the way men and women are to worship and focuses specifically on the character of a godly woman and then on the conduct of a godly woman. A woman is to respectful and respectable, not showing off her wealth and not seeking to draw attention to herself. And she is to understand that the Lord has not called her to leadership within the church--this is a part of God's created order. Paul explains this by referring to the order in which God created man and women. "For Adam was formed first, then Eve." He goes on to show that humanity’s problems began when this order was reversed--"Adam was not deceived, but the woman was deceived and became a transgressor." It was when Eve usurped Adam's leadership (and when Adam abdicated leadership) that all of these problems began.

And now we get to that tricky statement, "Yet she will be saved through childbearing--if they continue in faith and love and holiness, with self-control." If we want to understand that statement, we need to look at two things: what it means that the woman will be saved and what it means that they will be saved by childbearing.

Saved

First, then, what does it mean that she will be saved?

This morning my devotions took me to the final chapters of John (which, to those who know the reading plan I’m using this year, is an admission that I’m a few days behind). We find such poignant little stories in these chapters, stories like Peter and John running to the empty tomb, Thomas falling on his face before the risen Lord, Jesus restoring Peter after his three denials. There is one story among them, though, that I love most of all.

Mary Magdalene has come to Jesus’ tomb and is distressed to see that his body is gone, the stone rolled away. Convinced that someone has taken away his body, she stands outside the tomb weeping. Two angels appear within and ask simply “Woman, why are you weeping?” She replies, “They have taken away my Lord, and I do not know where they have laid him.” The words carry with them the pain of her loss. Not only has she lost her Lord, but even his body has been taken away. She is lost and alone.

Then she turns and sees someone else. She does not recognize Him, though it is the very one she seeks. Somehow her eyes are closed so she cannot see who it is. This man says “Woman, why are you weeping? Whom are you seeking?” She supposes he must be the gardener and says, “Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have laid him, and I will take him away.” She wants the body back, needs the body back, and begs that this man might return it to her.

But then, in an instant, her eyes are opened. Jesus, as he had called Lazarus out from the tomb, calls to her. He says but one word. “Mary.” It’s one of the best sentences in all of the Bible. At at that very instant she knows. At that very instant she sees and knows and understands that the One she seeks is standing right there behind her. He is alive! He has risen! She turns and cries out “Rabboni!” (which means teacher). I wonder, does she scream this word, run to him, and throw her arms around his neck? Perhaps she can do little more than call out in a whisper as she falls at his feet. We don’t know. But we do know that she clings to Jesus, overwhelmed with his presence, overwhelmed to know that he is alive. She sees and hears and believes. She knows now that Jesus is alive.

As I read these words, I think of the way Jesus called me and the way he has called countless numbers of men and women to himself. Like Mary I was once unable to see Jesus for who he is. I saw a man who may as well have been a gardener. He was a good man, a moral man, and maybe even a great man. But he was just a man. Only when Jesus called me by name was I able to see that him as the God-man. Only then was I able to see him as the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world. Only then did I really and truly know him. And only then were my eyes opened so I could see and my ears unstopped so I could hear and my heart renewed so I could believe. Like Mary, he called me by name.

A couple of years ago I decided that I’d try to read through the works of historian David McCullough (a project that continues). I eventually came to Brave Companions, a book that offers “Portraits in History”—brief glimpses of people and incidents that helped make America what she is today. One of the chapters deals with “The American Adventure of Louis Agassiz.” Agassiz was a French zoologist and geologist who settled in the United States in the mid nineteenth century. He began a distinguished career as a professor at Harvard. He revolutionized the way this field was taught, focusing far more on observation than rote learning. Agassiz utterly rejected Darwinism, believing to his dying day that to study nature was to study the works of God. He worked tirelessly to see a zoological museum built at Harvard and when it was finally opened in 1860, Harvard’s President declared it was appropriate that the museum stood face-to-face with the theological school, “God’s word and God’s works mutually illustrating each other.” Now I posted this about a year ago, I believe, but was reflecting on it again recently and felt it would be worth sharing again. It is, I think, a very powerful illustration.

Here is how McCullough describes the Agassiz teaching style.

Most unorthodox of all, and crucial as time would tell, was his manner of teaching. He intended, he said, to teach students to see—to observe and compare—and he intended to put the burden of study on them. Probably he never said what he is best known for, “Study nature, not books,” or not in those exact words. But such certainly was the essence of his creed, and for his students the idea was firmly planted by what they would afterward refer to as “the incident of the fish.”

His initial interview at an end, Agassiz would ask the student when he would like to begin. If the answer was now, the student was immediately presented with a dead fish—usually a very long dead, pickled, evil-smelling specimen—personally selected by “the master” from one of the wide-mouthed jars that lined his shelves. The fish was placed before the student in a tin pan. He was to look at the fish, the student was told, whereupon Agassiz would leave, not to return until later in the day, if at all.

Samuel Scudder, one of the many from the school who would go on to do important work of their own (his in entomology), described the experience as one of life’s turning points.

In ten minutes I had seen all that could be seen in that fish. … Half an hour passed—an hour—another hour; the fish began to look loathsome. I turned it over and around; looked it in the face—ghastly; from behind, beneath, above, sideways, at three-quarters view—just as ghastly. I was in despair.

I might not use a magnifying glass; instruments of all kinds were interdicted. My two hands, my two eyes, and the fish: it seemed a most limited field. I pushed my finger down its throat to feel how sharp the teeth were. I began to count the scales in the different rows, until I was convinced that that was nonsense. At last a happy thought struck me—I would draw the fish, and now with surprise I began to discover new features in the creature.

When Agassiz returned later and listened to Scudder recount what he had observed, his only comment was that the young man must look again.

I was piqued; I was mortified. Still more of that wretched fish! But now I set myself to my task with a will, and discovered one new thing after another. … The afternoon passed quickly; and when, towards its close, the professor inquired: “Do you see it yet?”

“No,” I replied, “I am certain I do not, but I see how little I saw before.”

The day following, having thought of the fish through most of the night, Scudder had a brainstorm. The fish, he announced to Agassiz, had symmetrical sides with paired organs.

“Of course, of course!” Agassiz said, obviously pleased. Scudder asked what he might do next, and Agassiz replied, “Oh, look at your fish!”

In Scudder’s case the lesson lasted a full three days. “Look, look, look” was the repeated injunction and the best lesson he ever had, Scudder recalled, “a legacy the professor has left to me, as he has left it to many others, of inestimable value, which we could not buy, with which we cannot part.”

The incident of the fish marked the end of the student’s novitiate. At once Agassiz became more communicative, his manner that of a friend or colleague, now that the real work could begin.

The way to all learning, “the backbone of education,” was to know something well. “A smattering of everything is worth little,” he would insist in the heavy French accent that he was never to lose. “Facts are stupid things, until brought into conjunction with some general law.” It was a great and common fallacy to suppose that an encyclopedic mind is desirable. The mind was made strong not through much learning but by “the thorough possession of something.” In other words, “Look at your fish.”

There were so many lessons I drew from this as I thought of my own attempts to understand God through His Word. The parallels are uncanny (but for the injunction to “study nature, not books.”) Lately, in my times of personal devotion, I’ve been studying the Minor Prophets. Admittedly I am going more for an overview than for an in-depth study, but even as I’ve been doing this, I’ve been craving some deeper study. The primary lesson for me in the Agassiz teaching style is this: like Scudder I tend to consider myself ready to move on too quickly. I move quickly from the Bible to resources that help explain them to me. I skim the Bible and then turn to commentaries and sermons to do the hard work for me. I skim the Bible and then study the supplementary material. But all the while I know I would be better off if I would just heed Agassiz and “look at your fish.”

A few days ago, while studying 1 Timothy, I came across an interesting portion of Philip Ryken’s commentary and I thought I’d share it with you. Ryken comments on 1 Timothy 1:17, those verses that inspired a classic hymn of the Christian faith: “To the King of ages, immortal, invisible, the only God, be honor and glory forever and ever. Amen.” Here is what Ryken says:

*****

Demetrius was right to be worried. The Ephesian silversmith made shrines for the goddess Artemis, and what kept him up at night—worrying about his job security—was the rapid growth of Christianity in his city.

Up until a missionary named Paul arrived, the silver trade in Ephesus had been rather lucrative. The worship of Artemis “brought no little business to the craftsmen” (Acts 19:24). But Christianity meant the end of idolatry, and this posed a threat to their livelihood. So Demetrius called the silversmiths together and said:

Men, you know that from this business we have our wealth. And you see and hear that not only in Ephesus but in almost all of Asia this Paul has persuaded and turned away a great many people, saying that gods made with hands are not gods. And there is danger not only that this trade of ours may come into disrepute but also that the temple of the great goddess Artemis may be counted as nothing, and that she may even be deposed from her magnificence, she whom all Asia and the world worship. (Acts 19:25-27)

The silversmiths wanted to defend the honor and majesty of their queen. More importantly, they wanted to keep their jobs. So “when they heard this they were enraged and were crying out, ‘Great is Artemis of the Ephesians!’ So the city was filled with the confusion” (Acts 19:28-29). A massive protest was held in the giant theater of Ephesus. For two straight hours, as many as twenty thousand people shouted, “Great is Artemis of the Ephesians!” (Acts 19:34).

Eventually the city clerk was able to quiet the crowd. He said: “Men of Ephesus, who is there who does not know that the city of the Ephesians is temple keeper of the great Artemis, and of the sacred stone that fell from the sky?” (Acts 19:35). Yes, the whole world did know this, for the temple of Artemis was one of the seven wonders of the ancient world. It was 425 feet long and 220 feet broad, with 127 columns of white marble, each 60 feet high. It took two centuries to build it. Edwin Yamauchi calls it “the largest structure in the Hellenistic world and the first of such monumental proportions to be built entirely of marble.” Inside stood the ancient and enormous statue of Artemis herself.

The goodess seemed immortal, but Demetrius was right to be worried. The coming of Christ meant the end of the Artemis. She has now been tossed on the scrap heap of history. With the exception of a few scattered columns on a plan near Ephesus, the last fragments of her temple—a handful of coins and a few broken columns—are now on display in the basement of the British Museum in London.

The death of Artemis has turned Paul’s doxology into a hymn of triumph…

A few days ago I announced Memorizing Scripture Together—a program or effort dedicated to committing to memory passages and verses of Scripture. I had hoped to have at least thirty people agree to participate in the program. I was surprised and delighted to find that hundreds had signed up to participate. This shows, I think, how much we as Christians crave the Word but how our lazy, sinful natures draw us away from our hearts’ desire.

How it Works

There are two “tracks” you can follow. The first will provide a weekly “fighter verse”—a verse or two that will be profitable for you to memorize, ponder and reflect on. These verses will be the ones my church memorizes together (twenty-six verses repeated twice through the calendar year). The second track will provide a longer passage that will be memorized over a period of weeks or even months. You are free to participate in either or both of these.

Every Sunday I will send an email reminding you of the verses we are memorizing and providing some kind of challenge or encouragement. I hope to provide tips for memorizing these passages, interviews with people who have memorized vast quantities of the Scripture, and other useful information. I will also post this weekly information on my blog where we can discuss it.

I will be using the English Standard Version (ESV). You may, of course, use whatever translation you prefer.

This Week’s Fighter Verse

“All Scripture is breathed out by God and profitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction, and for training in righteousness, that the man of God may be competent, equipped for every good work.”
2 Timothy 3:16-17

This Week’s Passage

As we begin this effort together, I think it will be valuable to begin by committing to memory some passages that are prayers to God. These are Scriptures you can use as you pray, simply praying them back to God as an act of worship to him. The first of these is Psalm 8, a prayer of worship or adoration, declaring the glory of God. It seemed to strike the right balance between applicability and length. We will start slowly, by memorizing this over the next 3 weeks, which means you’ll want to master at least three verses per week. You can proceed through it at whatever pace fits you—just target December 14 as a completion date. Next week I’ll begin providing help and advice on memorizing passages like this one.

O Lord, our Lord,
how majestic is your name in all the earth!
You have set your glory above the heavens.
Out of the mouth of babies and infants,
you have established strength because of your foes,
to still the enemy and the avenger.

When I look at your heavens, the work of your fingers,
the moon and the stars, which you have set in place,
what is man that you are mindful of him,
and the son of man that you care for him?

Yet you have made him a little lower than the heavenly beings
and crowned him with glory and honor.
You have given him dominion over the works of your hands;
you have put all things under his feet,
all sheep and oxen,
and also the beasts of the field,
the birds of the heavens, and the fish of the sea,
whatever passes along the paths of the seas.

O Lord, our Lord,
how majestic is your name in all the earth!
Psalm 8

Join Us!

We would love for you to join us. I plan on sending out weekly emails (every Sunday) to remind you of the commitment and to tell you about the new verse. If you’d like to participate in the program, I ask as well that you sign up for these emails (though you certainly do not have to if you don’t want to). Otherwise, just keep an eye on this blog and dedicate time to memorizing the Scripture passages.

Yesterday, while reading a book about the history of the English Bible, I came across the story of John Rogers, a Bible translator who worked first with Tyndale and then independently after Tyndale’s death. It’s a story I’ve read before and one that is so powerful. Rogers was eventually arrested, tried, and found guilty of heresies against the Roman Church and against the sacrament. Such heresy carried with it the penalty of death and Rogers was to become the first of many martyrs under the reign of Mary I (Bloody Mary). Here is how Foxe described his last moments.

When the time came that he should be brought out of Newgate to Smithfield, the place of his execution, Mr. Woodroofe, one of the sheriffs, first came to Mr. Rogers, and asked him if he would revoke his abominable doctrine, and the evil opinion of the Sacrament of the altar. Mr. Rogers answered, “That which I have preached I will seal with my blood.” Then Mr. Woodroofe said, “Thou art an heretic.” “That shall be known,” quoth Mr. Rogers, “at the Day of Judgment.” “Well,” said Mr. Woodroofe, “I will never pray for thee.” “But I will pray for you,” said Mr. Rogers; and so was brought the same day, the fourth of February, by the sheriffs, towards Smithfield, saying the Psalm Miserere by the way, all the people wonderfully rejoicing at his constancy; with great praises and thanks to God for the same. And there in the presence of Mr. Rochester, comptroller of the queen’s household, Sir Richard Southwell, both the sheriffs, and a great number of people, he was burnt to ashes, washing his hands in the flame as he was burning. A little before his burning, his pardon was brought, if he would have recanted; but he utterly refused it. He was the first martyr of all the blessed company that suffered in Queen Mary’s time that gave the first adventure upon the fire. His wife and children, being eleven in number, ten able to go, and one sucking at her breast, met him by the way, as he went towards Smithfield. This sorrowful sight of his own flesh and blood could nothing move him, but that he constantly and cheerfully took his death with wonderful patience, in the defence and quarrel of the Gospel of Christ.”

I just got handed a copy of the ESV Study Bible by a roaming Crossway marketing guru. Ah, the joys of being a reviewer. The Bible is set for release this Tuesday and you can now order it from Amazon, Westminster Books, or any other online retailer. Westminster is offering it at a ridiculous discount in each of the eight editions and is shipping it starting today.

Hardcover
TruTone Nat Brown
TruTone Classic Black
Black Bonded Leather
Burgundy Bonded Leather
Black Genuine Leather
Burgundy Bonded Leather
Premium Calfskin Leather

I hope to have a thorough review of it on Tuesday.

Some time ago I read an article (which, alas, I can no longer find) that described a time that a crew from the BBC went in search of the Loch Ness Monster. I thought of this yesterday while watching the movie The Water Horse with the kids. The corporation hired a team of experts to sweep Loch Ness from end to end, back and forth for several days using some of the world’s most sophisticated sonar equipment. After a complete, thorough search they concluded that there is no evidence to indicate that a monster lives in the Loch. I doubt any of them were surprised.

Being thorough folks, the crew decided to push a little further and to try to describe how it is that the myth of the Loch Ness Monster persists despite a complete lack of hard evidence to support her (his?) existence. To do this, they performed a devious little experiment. They rigged up a system which allowed them to raise an object from under the water far out into the Loch. They would then interview the inevitable crowd of tourists standing by the shore to ask them what they had seen. They elected to use a section of fencing as the decoy, deliberately choosing an object that looks absolutely nothing like an ancient aquatic creature. They waited until a busload of tourists had arrived on the shores of the Loch; once the bus was unloaded they raised the fence a few feet out of the water. There was great excitement on the shore and sure enough, when they interviewed people after the fact, the majority of them described seeing something that looked just like the traditional depiction of the Loch Ness Monster—long neck, rounded head, and so on.

The people who led this study concluded that this was a type of pareidolia. According to the Skeptics Dictionary, pareidolia is “a type of illusion or misperception involving a vague or obscure stimulus being perceived as something clear and distinct.” Other examples of this phenomenon are the stuff of the “weird news” pages—seeing the face of Mother Teresa in a cinnamon bun, the face of a man on the moon or the shape of an animal in the clouds. In the case of the people gathered at Loch Ness, they saw something vague and yet were able to describe it in detail. The detail was fabricated by their minds based on what they already imagined the Loch Ness Monster to look like. They were fooled by their own minds which superimposed what they wanted to see over what they truly did see.

Certainly the people who saw a section of fence being raised from the water did not expect to see a fence—they expected to see a monster. Many of them had traveled from across the country or across the world for the very purpose of visiting Loch Ness. Everybody who stands on the shores of the Loch hopes to catch a glimpse of Nessie, even if most are skeptical about her existence. So when this object came up from the water their minds allowed them to see what they wanted to see. Had they been expecting to see a school bus emerging from the water I have little doubt that their minds would have allowed them to believe that is what rose from the depths.

What we see in this rather extreme example is the value of objectivity. Had the people visiting Loch Ness been objective they would have seen nothing but a section of wet fencing material. They would have seen the reality in all its simplicity. They would have guarded against allowing their minds to play tricks on them.

This story, silly though it may be, made me ask myself how often I approach the Bible with the wrong attitude. How often do I approach it with my own agenda in mind? Homosexuals approach the Bible determined to find proof that their lifestyle is not only acceptable but condoned by Scripture. So when they read that John was the apostle that Jesus loved, they see support for their lifestyle. When they read about the deep love between Jonathan and David they project their own homosexuality on these men and allow this to give license to their own immorality. Often people on both sides of various debates misuse Scripture in this way. When it comes to the issue of women in positions of leadership within the local church, proponents of both sides have been known to eschew objectivity, approaching the Scriptures determined to prove their point. When we approach the Bible determined to prove what we already believe we will more often than not find enough proof to satisfy ourselves, even if we are taking passages far beyond their real meaning. We’ll see that section of fencing and know that it’s Nessie.

The lesson to me is that I need to approach the Bible humbly, as objectively as I can, always asking God to reveal His truth to me through His Word. I need to lay aside my presuppositions and biases so, if necessary, I can allow God to change and shape and mold me. I have to be utterly dependent on Him. I need to allow the Spirit to show me what a given passage really means, not merely force it into saying what I want it to say. Yes, the story of Elijah and the “still small voice” has much to teach me, but I cannot use it as proof that God will speak to me in silent prayer. Sure, God has a place for visionaries in the church, but I can’t use Proverbs 29:18 to prove this. And yes, Jesus Christ is present where two or more are gathered in His name, but I have no right to tear this from its context and its grounding in the local assembly. There are so many ways in which Christians push their own agenda on Scripture.

John Calvin once warned against treating the Bible like a ball that we bounce around at will. The Bible is the very Word of God and its teachings can only be rightly learned by impartial and objective study of the text. And that means being impartial and objective even about the parts we may not like, for often God’s ways are at odds with our far-too-human agendas. We rely on the Spirit not just to teach us the meaning of Scripture, but to protect us from our own arrogance and our own inability to interpret it wisely and properly. We have no right and no ability to approach Scripture without expressing our dependence on Him.

There was a period in my life where I spent a good bit of time playing computer games. I developed a fascination with certain games and gained a lot of pleasure from playing them. Truth be told, if I was able to find a way of extending my days from 24 to 48 hours I might take up the hobby again. Unfortunately, as it stands now, I just have too many other responsibilities in life to be able to dedicate any significant time to gaming (though occasionally, very occasionally, I can scrape together a couple of hours and play something with my boy, who loves the games as much as I used to).

Of the games I played, my favorites were always strategy games (anyone who has played classics like Civilization or Railroad Tycoon will know the kind of games I’m talking about). Many of these games offered two different modes of play: campaign or sandbox. In campaign mode, the player would typically play an ongoing series of scenarios; finishing one scenario would unlock the next and would increase the options available to him in future scenarios. The campaigns were often very linear, but it was a pleasure conquering one area of the game before moving on to the next. This way of playing would slowly unlock the game’s features, all the while offering measurable goals. Sandbox mode, on the other hand, gave the player free reign to play the game however he liked; there was no formal structure and often no overarching point to the game—the player would have all options available to him and would simply play however he saw fit. Sandbox mode never appealed to me. I needed to conquer rather than just play the game open-ended.

I guess I’ve always been a campaign more than a sandbox kind of person. The desire to overcome and to conquer is built right into me. I love to form and then to pursue a series of defined goals and find great satisfaction in doing so.

Some time ago I found myself growing frustrated with my times of personal devotion. I would take time every morning to read the Bible, to pray, and to (at least some of the time) meditate upon the Word of God. But somehow it all seemed frustrating and almost pointless. There was little way of measuring or even sensing whether I was really benefiting from these times. Was I growing from these times? Was I benefiting? Was I making the best use of these times? I noted that on the few occasions that I was asked to preach, I would find greater joy in studying the Scripture in preparing a sermon than in simply reading it on my own. The goal at the end made a difference. It was around this time that I began to notice the parallel between my devotions and computer gaming. I was doing sandbox devotions! I would simply choose a book of the Bible and read through it, sometimes quickly and sometimes slowly. They were open-ended with little in the way of defined goals and I began to see that this was somehow in opposition to my personality type. It was not enough for me to just “spend time with Jesus.” Instead, I needed to put my devotions within a larger context, a story line that would bring some kind of cohesion.

So I began to change the way I did devotions. I set them within a larger context. I determined I would conquer books of the Bible, one-by-one. Most recently this has taken the form of what I’ve been thinking of as “conquering Genesis.” In this campaign I will be spending at least 90 days studying Genesis, not only reading the book and meditating upon it, but also relying upon good commentaries, theologies and other resources. The plan is to “conquer” the book—to study it until I really and truly understand it, both on a macro and, to some degree, a micro level; to learn how it fits in the sweep of redemptive history; and to learn how it applies to my life here and now. Meanwhile, my prayers will continue to be based around a “concentric circle” model I developed some time ago where each day my prayers have a different focus. I begin the week focusing on myself and in subsequent days focus on immediate family, extended family, church family, neighborhood, nation and world.

What difference has it made? It is still too early to tell, I suppose, but in the weeks or months since I changed my focus from sandbox to campaign, I’ve found a renewed sense of determination and interest in the Bible. Within the context of a campaign rather than a sandbox I am finding that I have found greater enjoyment in reading and studying the Bible and that I am gaining more from it. Suddenly there seems to be a wider story, a greater purpose. I’m out to conquer and somehow that seems to make a difference.

Imagine, for a moment. You wake up one morning and, as you stumble downstairs to grope for the coffee maker, you notice that the front door of your house is wide open, the brisk morning air blowing into the room and clearing your mind just a little bit. You stare at the door for a moment to process the fact that it is open. Your first thought, of course, is for your family. You race upstairs and throw open the door of your son’s room. He is lying peacefully asleep. Breathing a prayer of thanks you cross the hall, opening the door to your daughter’s room. Her blankets are in a heap beside the bed, her nightlight on, but she is nowhere to be seen. Frantically you search the house, calling for her, begging her to answer you. But she is gone.

Before you can pick up the phone to dial 911, it rings. You answer it before the second ring and discover that it is a reporter from a local newspaper. He awoke this morning to find a strange package on his front doorstep. Opening it, he found that it contained a warning that someone had taken your daughter. A letter detailed a series of steps you would have to take if you ever hoped to see her alive again.

The reporter begins to read the letter, but you shout, “I don’t have time for this! Just give me a summary!” Or do you? Of course not! It would be ludicrous for you to do anything but ask him to read the letter slowly and with dead accuracy. You would not want the summary but would want to hear and understand and ponder the kidnapper’s every word. You would not want his understanding of the kidnapper’s demands, but would want to hear the words yourself so you could come to your own understanding. Only then might you ask for his understanding of it. You would want to know, study, understand and follow every detail of that letter.

Words, it seems, are important. This applies not only to series of words, but to individual words. We see the importance of words all the time in legal documents, recipes, love letters, interviews and quotations. Think of a courtroom. Even if you have never been involved in a court case, you may have seen cases tried on some of the court shows like People’s Court or Judge Judy. Maybe you took time off work to watch the O.J. Simpson trial. When a lawyer or judge asks a person to recount the details of a case, does he allow the person to provide a summary, or does he dig deeper and demand the exact words and phrases that were used? It is not enough for a person to testify that “the defendant threatened my life.” The judge will demand to know the exact words the defendant used. Did he say, “Give me your purse or I’ll kill you?” or did he say, “Give me your purse or else…?” In either case there was a threat, but only one can be accurately shown to be a threat against the person’s life. The other was merely interpreted to be so. In this instance it may or may not be the case.

Whether following instructions to find one’s daughter or standing before a court in an attempt to put an assailant in prison, individual words play an important and even crucial role. It strikes me as odd, then, that though we place such importance on individual words in so many areas of life, we are so willing to read translations of the Bible that, in many ways, are mere summaries of the actual words. If we agree, and I’m sure most of us do, that there are no words more important than those written in Scripture, why do we read versions of it that make a mockery of the words that were breathed out by God?

Consider just a couple of quick examples. Romans 13:4 discusses the role of civil government. The authorities, says Paul, have the right to “bear the sword.”

“But if you do wrong, be afraid, for he does not bear the sword in vain. For he is the servant of God, an avenger who carries out God’s wrath on the wrongdoer.” (ESV) The word translated as “sword” is machaira and means “sword.”

But consider this passage in some less-literal translations:

“But if you are doing something wrong, of course you should be afraid, for you will be punished. The authorities are established by God for that very purpose, to punish those who do wrong.” (NLT)

“If you do something wrong, you ought to be afraid, because these rulers have the right to punish you. They are God’s servants who punish criminals to show how angry God is.” (CEV)

“But if you’re breaking the rules right and left, watch out. The police aren’t there just to be admired in their uniforms. God also has an interest in keeping order, and he uses them to do it.” (The Message)

Noticeably absent from these three translations is the word “sword.” The translators have seen fit to provide what they feel is the main idea of the passage, that the civil authorities have the right to punish those who do wrong. But this is a verse that has long been used to discuss the Christian view on capital punishment. It is an important verse in this context and in others. But in these three translations there is nothing to discuss, for the “sword” has been removed and punishment, which may be imprisonment, fines or community service, among other things, has been substituted. This same word is used in Acts 12:2 where we read of the murder of James the brother of John. In this passage the NLT speaks explicitly of a sword, while the CEV suggests one with the words “cut his head off” and The Message speaks of “murder.” In either case, the translators have, in this second passage, translated a word in a way that is inconsistent with how they have translated it in another passage. They have done so in order to interpret and not to make a more clear translation.

Let’s look at a second example. A standard translation of Psalm 32:1 might read as follows: “Blessed is the one whose transgression is forgiven, whose sin is covered.” (ESV) This translation is not a transliteration, or direct translation of word position, punctuation, and so on, but is a readable translation that attempts to translate each word that is in the original language. Now let’s look at a few translations from less-literal versions of the Bible.

“Count yourself lucky, how happy you must be—you get a fresh start, your slate’s wiped clean.” (The Message)

“Oh, what joy for those whose rebellion is forgiven, whose sin is put out of sight!” (NLT)

“Our God, you bless everyone whose sins you forgive and wipe away.” (CEV)

What has become of the word “covered?” It has been replaced by “wiped clean,” “put out of site,” or “wipe away.” But is “covered” not one of the words God breathed out and wrote in His book? Should we, as the reader, not have access to that word? Conversely, “fresh start” is foreign to the text and is provided as an addition to the passage without alerting the reader that these are not God’s words, but the translator’s.

Consider even the words of Solomon, written to his lover, describing her unsurpassed beauty. “Your hair is like a flock of goats leaping down the slopes of Gilead.” (ESV) The Message renders this, “…like a flock of goats in the distance streaming down a hillside in the sunshine.” Note that addition of “sunshine.” The author may claim poetic license, but the fact is that he has added a word that is foreign to the text. The New Living Translation adds a small amount of interpretation, suggesting that her hair falls in waves. “Your hair falls in waves, like a flock of goats frisking down the slopes of Gilead.” If I were to write a love letter to my wife, do you think she would want it word-for-word, or does she merely desire access to the content of my thoughts? Again, translators have interpreted rather than translated.

What I mean to show in these examples is that anything other than an essentially literal translation of the Bible may work to subtly undermine the Christian’s confidence in the Scriptures. This is a topic that I cannot adequately cover in only a small article and I do realize there are complexities I have not considered. But on the basis of these examples I would urge you to consider this matter on your own. As Christians, people of the Book, we need to have confidence in our text. What basis do we have for our faith if we cannot have confidence in the Bible? We cannot overestimate the importance of ensuring that what we study is the clearest, best, most accurate translation of God’s Words that we can possibly find.