Thoughts About Preaching and Grammar 9.28.2023

    My formal study of Greek grammar began in the fall of 1982. My math isn’t all that great, but I do believe that 2023-1982=41. Forty-one years is a pretty long time. After graduation, I have continued to spend a lot of time in informal study of Greek NT Grammar, and other related textual issues. This is a matter of keeping familiar exegetical tools sharp whilst adding new tools to the toolbox. I have a good, diverse selection of print grammars—beginning, intermediate, and advanced. In addition, I have 15 or 20 grammars in Logos and Accordance, as well as a healthy selection of PDFs germane to the subject. I have an abundance of lexical tools to help understand the significance of how individual words are used, and how to discern the point at which lexical meaning, grammar, and syntax give way to context as the primary indicators of meaning. 

    Yes, it is a lot of work.  It is the vocation we have chosen, to which we have been called. One must know the text if one is to preach it. There is only so much that can be done with the work of others. I am convinced that the local congregation should expect their preacher to be an expert in hermeneutics. We are responsible first for knowing the meaning of the text—only then can we proclaim it boldly and personally.

    Philippians, being brief, I said to myself, “What a great time to do a quick Greek grammar review!” I don’t regret that choice, however it has become more sprawling and challenging than I expected. Hellenistic Greek is not the spoken or written Greek of the twenty-first century. Languages evolve and change. Were I learning to speak Greek it would be another challenge entirely. My refresher course on what I presumably already know has been challenging enough. 

    The primary driver is change in the way Koine Greek is studied, understood, and taught. I had excellent instruction in NT Greek. The two years of study with a very hard-nosed teacher and a committed group of fellow students prepared me not only for years of study for preaching but also prepared me for a life of self-learning. I can chart a review course in my Greek studies because of what I learned all those years ago, with those men at St. Louis Christian College. Never once have I doubted the quality or focus of the instruction. And as you may tell, I count those years as a highlight of my life. 

    Which brings us back to the present discussion. Aside from the length of the Epistle, there were several other reasons that preaching from Philippians seemed like a fruitful time to bone up on my Greek Grammar. There are several interesting features of Paul’s usage in the Epistle that were going to merit close examination anyway. There is no better time to go a little deeper than when the grammars and lexica are open. Additionally, there are some significant passages in Philippians that, while not necessarily challenging, certainly required detailed attention. Philippians 2.1-11 is one of the most important Christological passages in the New Testament. A well-known, passage, it deserves attention to grammatical as well as theological detail. 

    As is often the case, the outcome develops differently than one intends. The most notable change in understanding Koine Greek that has developed since I Graduated from SLCC is the way that the verb system is studied, discussed, and understood. It is so different that much of the terminology is new and the approach is discomfortingly different. 

    My Greek instruction was old-fashioned, paradigm-driven, morphology, and syntax. Learn these endings. Learn the vocabulary. Locate the verbs. Decline the nouns. The professor, Albert McGee, used textbooks derived from the academic lineage of the renowned Baptist Scholar A.T. Robertson. There was a well-defined pecking order to the choice of these textbooks and clear lines of authority. We began with Davis, William Hersey, ed. Beginner’s Grammar of the Greek New Testament. New York: Harper & Row, 1923. Davis was a student and Son in Law of Robertson. This beginning textbook drew upon his own studies with Robertson and was presumably prepared with the mentor’s blessing. For second-year Greek, the textbook was Dana, H. E., and Julius R. Mantey. A Manual Grammar of the Greek New Testament. New York: Macmillan, 1993. Again, these were students of Robertson, whose judgments never fell far from the path blazed by their mentor. Supplemental readings were assigned from Robertson, A. T. A Short Grammar of the Greek New Testament, for Students Familiar with the Elements of Greek. New York: Hodder & Stoughton, 1908. The final arbiter of all questions was, of course, Robertson's “Big Grammar” Robertson, A. T. A Grammar of the Greek New Testament in the Light of Historical Research. Logos Bible Software, 2006. And no, we did not have Logos back then. Robertson’s Big Grammar is an imposing book. When I finally got my own copy in the mid 1980’s I was in awe that a simple guy like me could have access to such information. That was it. That was the program. Robertson’s methods were those of the historical Philologist striving for scientific precision. Albert McGee was meticulous about teaching forms and applying those principles to everyday exegesis. I use what I learned, all those years ago, virtually every day.

        But many days have passed. About 3 weeks ago I started assembling my grammatical tools to do my little “review.” In my Bible software, I had several fresh, monographs to study. (I am often asked, “Have you read all those books”. The standard answer: “not yet.”) Two caught my eye.  Runge, Steven E., and Christopher J. Fresch, eds. The Greek Verb Revisited: A Fresh Approach for Biblical Exegesis. Bellingham, WA: Lexham Press, 2016., and Porter, Stanley E. Idioms of the Greek New Testament. Sheffield: JSOT, 1999. The primary commonality of these two books is a vastly different understanding of how the Greek verbal system works, from what I was taught. Less focused on formal features of tense, mood, and voice distinctions they focus on the category of “Verbal Aspect”, a term I had not heard or read for the first 30 years of my experience with reading the language. I am wading through Porter’s book with several more queued up. Aside from those texts specifically dealing with Hellenistic or Koine Greek, I have an entire stack of monographs discussing theoretical linguistics, functional grammar, and semantics. These were not subjects discussed in first year or second year Greek circa, 1982-84. It is, however, where the research is, in 2023. The two seminal dissertations regarding Verbal Aspect in the Green New Testament were published in 1988 and 1990. Since then, the discussion has grown, and the literature has exploded. The primary methodological shift has been from the Historical Philology of Roberson and his cadre to the more linguistically aware Semantic model. 

    In addition to the very personal work of identifying and interpreting the grammar of the text, another issue to keep in mind is that the relevant secondary literature has been evolving in this direction for all those years. It takes a long time to prepare a major critical, exegetical commentary. The extensive period between submission and publication means that these essential references tend to be 15 or 20 years behind the arc of scholarship. So, it is only in the last 15-20 years that Greek-text commentaries have begun to address grammatical, syntactical, and discourse features of the language from within this newer linguistic model.

    Our most effective tools tend to be the ones we know best. Yet we are not exempt from the need to be aware of developments in our field. Our field is Biblical studies. And we should be eager to add new tools that will equip us to do a better job. To grow as exegetes, we must continue to lubricate our hermeneutical skillset. We will need to keep abreast in other relevant fields besides grammar if we are to keep up with the “hermeneutical Joneses”. Much of this study will not change our perspective.  Much of the value is in the work itself. 

    I have said this many times. The call to preach the Word is a call to study. I’m still able to think and learn. You are too. Just maybe, we old dogs need to learn a few new tricks. Let's get to work.

 

Philippians, Word Nerdery 9.21.2023

     Philippians is not a very large book. It consists of four tightly argued chapters that focus on developing a few distinct themes. Detecting those themes and distilling them is, of course, what preaching is all about. Philippians then, is a good book for not only applying our skills in exegesis but also in refining them. Some of the preaching units are small enough that we can deploy our entire toolbox without breaking our “time bank” for the week. Yet, these small pericopes are often pregnant with detailed theology and, Paul being Paul, his syntax and discourse still require disciplined thinking to move the argument(s) across the hermeneutical divide from then to now. 

    One persistent Pauline challenge found in Philippians is his winding, verbless syntax. There are times when Paul seems to challenge himself to say as much as possible with the fewest number of concrete verbs. One is tempted to speculate as to why. I think he is trying to capture the vibrancy of the spoken word and that some of his participles would sound like concrete verbs in an auditory context. That is, however, not what we confront in reading the New Testament as Christian Scripture. All available context comes to us through what he wrote. And what he wrote does not convey tone, gesture, emphasis, or other non-verbal clues. We have what we have. 

    That means in preaching a text we will often need to turn single sentences into multiple sentences, smaller and more in keeping with normal English usage. I’m preaching Philippians 1.27-30 this week. In a very real sense this entire pericope is one, large sprawling sentence. If you were to write this in English, you would use much smaller sentences. For example, consider verse twenty-seven.

“Only let your manner of life be worthy of the gospel of Christ, so that whether I come and see you or am absent, I may hear of you that you are standing firm in one spirit, with one mind striving side by side for the faith of the gospel,” (Philippians 1:27 ESV)

The ESV does a reasonable job of rendering this verse into English, but we would hardly call it colloquial English—or Norma Loquendi, which from the Latin essentially means, “normal usage.” As is typical of English translations some of Paul’s participles are turned into subordinate clauses—which is all right because that is how they function—yet we still wouldn’t normally talk like this. It could be rendered as follows. 

Your lives should be conducted like citizens of the gospel. That way your reputation for unity and collaboration for the gospel will be known. Whether I see you or not. 

You could contend that the above is more of a paraphrase than a “translation”, and you would be partly right. The issue is that rendering one language into another is always problematic, especially when the author of the translated language was ignorant of the “receptor” language. 

    Granted, there was a time when English syntax was much more sophisticated and modeled on the classical usage of Greek and Latin. Here is the same verse in the King James version.

“Only let your conversation be as it becometh the gospel of Christ: that whether I come and see you, or else be absent, I may hear of your affairs, that ye stand fast in one spirit, with one mind striving together for the faith of the gospel;” (Philippians 1:27 KJV)

The similarities between the KJV and ESV should be obvious. Yes, the vocabulary has changed but the difficulties of syntax are solved in the same fashion; commas delimiting subordinate clauses. Which is well and good in a formal translation, I’m just not sure that’s how it sounded when read aloud to a congregation. What takes four commas in the ESV, and three commas and a colon in the KJV can be accomplished in understandable English by biting the bullet and turning the whole thing into three compact English sentences. 

     A lot of the gibberish regarding formal equivalency and dynamic equivalency in translation is predicated on the notion that colloquial English and colloquial Hellenistic Greek share more commonalities than is actually the case. To do in English, what Paul did in Philippians 1.27 would be described as either bad English, or to put the best face on it “awkward.” I’ve gotten a lot of work back from professors (and editors) over the years asking me to rewrite sentences that look a lot like Philippians 1.27.

    So how does this relate to preaching? Well, I’m going to read the text from the ESV this Sunday, just like I always do. The structure of the sermon, however, is informed by the Greek text. My job as the preacher is to make things a little simpler than they appear. (By the way, the preceding three sentences began as one long sentence, which I edited into its present form.)  In this case, I must translate and simplify Paul’s structure as a central hermeneutic activity. We must step out from among the tangled trees of Paul’s syntax to comprehend the broader architecture of the forest. If we don’t reduce Paul’s structure to a manageable outline, we risk making the sermon unduly complicated, throwing the responsibility for clarity upon our listener. That’s our job, not theirs. My sermon outline is derived and distilled from the text, but it intentionally answers the questions: 1) Can I make this clearer in English? 2) Can I make the Sermon itself easy to follow? 

    Why discuss this now? Because it’s easier to do for three verses from Philippians than it might be in a narrative context that requires exegeting fifteen or twenty. Doing it when it’s doable provides practice for when the length of the text constricts the time that we might have to work on it. One caveat however, the narratives in the NT, despite their length and other generic qualities, don’t typically have these specifically Pauline issues. Practice is about repetition. Every rep helps. Some kinds of practice are better than other kinds. 

  What did my sermon outline look like? The major points came down to one essential word. Many of the sub-points also came down to one key term. Now, in filling out the manuscript there is much more elaboration, summation, clarification, and argument. All that work that I gather in my planning tool under the heading “from exegesis to sermon” comes after the hermeneutical heavy lifting. Good exegesis is liberating because when we have a clear understanding of the text, we are better able to connect the dots for the congregation, clarify the obscure, and highlight the principal message of our text. That is what sermons are for. To make the Bible come alive. First in the preacher, then in the congregation.

Fresh Focus 9.14.2023

     Regardless of how well we know a particular book or section of Scripture, we should always be looking to learn something new—not for the sake of novelty but for the sake of keeping our preaching fresh. This is critical for longevity in the pulpit. Any Bible College graduate should be able not only to preach and teach but also to continue learning. We live in an age with an abundance of ways, both digital and analog to help us sharpen our tools, expand our skills, and continue growing throughout a long lifetime of preaching. 

    Each of us who is gifted and equipped for the ministry of the Word must prioritize the process of continuing education. There are several ways that we can accomplish this task. One way that we can continue to grow is to acquire additional formal education when we determine it is necessary. Additionally, we can continue a vigorous lifelong habit of adding new materials to our library. Today I want to consider one of the most cost-effective ways possible to keep our preaching fresh. Let’s think through the process of taking a fresh focus on our own previous work on familiar texts.  

Background

    I frequently beat the drum of background studies. Understanding the history, geography, setting, and critical questions surrounding a text helps to frame how we preach it. Today I’d like to address a distinct set of background issues. Let’s describe them as personal biographical considerations. 

    I have mentioned this before, but it merits repeating. A preacher needs to be aware of his or her own background regarding a text. Only rarely do we approach a text with no prior personal engagement. Whether through devotional reading or past preaching we approach a text with a history. This history, in particular, our own past preaching impacts how we approach the text this time around. 

    I am constantly struck by how my exegesis of a text remains consistent through different sermon series. I just completed my sermon for 17 September. In browsing my past sermons on the text, I found that, despite fresh exegesis, my approach was mostly the same—even though my current theme and even the outline of the text is different. 

    This background is a good check on our processes. For example, if the exegesis itself was vastly different I would want to consider the factors that engendered that change. Did I change my mind? Did my current preaching theme create a different set of expectations? When I last preached this text was I enthralled by a specific commentator or procedure that yielded different results? 

    The text says what it says and though our application may change, the primary thrust of the text should, all things being equal, be reflected in our work. 

    This work, like editing our own work, can be painstaking and even tiresome. Yet to forgo it omits a significant background issue—the growth and development of the exegete—the one thing entirely within our control. 

    The call to preach is a call to be a constant gardener. Our field is hermeneutics. The crop is well-constructed sermons. When we use our previous work as a part of our background study it gives us one more resource to aid in the process of serving God’s people with a fresh, challenging crop harvest every week. 

Similar not Same

    Within the bounds of sound hermeneutical principles, there is room for novelty in preaching. Creativity is not found within the exegetical process itself but in the framing, writing, and editing of the sermon. Within the boundaries set by the text, we can create messages that are similar in reflecting the inspired message of the text, but which are not the same. This requires long-term, reflective engagement with our own past work. 

    Regardless of our experience, we all find ourselves returning to familiar tropes, structures, and even vocabulary. In short, we are susceptible to getting into a rut. The key to similarity of approach, without falling into stale, repetitive, and conventional preaching is found in good habits.  Broad reading across different disciplines. Careful weekly editing to eliminate tired phrasing, “purple” prose, and bad formal habits. Constant attention to writing for listeners rather than readers. These habits won’t prevent the normal gravitational pull of personality, nor will they guarantee that you won’t occasionally slip into your conventional patterns. These habits do help keep the preacher focused on this sermon, this week, without the additional baggage of past preaching. 

    One of the arguments (not that I agree) for using old sermons in new contexts is that it is not a wise use of time to always write a fresh sermon when you have preached a passage in the past. Some think it a waste to do over what was done well the first time. This ignores two of the most important factors in preaching, the preacher, and the congregation. Thirteen years have passed since I last worked through Philippians. My life has changed. I am preaching to different people. The expectations for a Biblical message have not changed but all the external factors have changed. Ignoring that denigrates our ongoing growth and maturity as a student of scripture. 

    If you measure your new sermons against the old, you will find that they still reflect you and your personality as an exegete of scripture. Unless you have radically changed your approach to scripture, they will be genetically related. Yet your new messages will reflect your current spiritual arc.

Nuanced Language

When I look at my old messages, I find the following:

• My language has changed.

• By design, I have become a better editor. 

• The physical presentation of my preaching document(s) is easier to follow.

• I have favorite phrases and habitual ways of speaking.

• I am getting better at the art of omission.

    What I am discovering is that I am doing a better job of congregational analysis. I am writing for these people in a fashion that will allow the auditor to focus better on the content of the message. Though the hearer may not be able to make the connection I am doing a better job of being direct and nuanced at the same time. I am trying to engage the hearer, to carry on an internal dialogue, and to be responsive during the preaching event.

    This requires more work on the writing side. There was a time when I was satisfied with clear exegesis of the text. Now I try and focus as much on a clear explanation of that exegesis. This is a hermeneutical imperative. When the preacher is not clear, that is on her or him. If we lack clarity, it is often because we have left a gap between what the text says and how we will publicly declare that message. Some Biblical content is difficult to understand. Our task is to use the language of the sermon to clarify what is difficult, make concrete what is abstract (as much as it is possible), and provide pegs of application upon which the congregation can hang their understanding of the text.

    There was a time in the not-so-distant past when we could rely on everyone present to share a basic understanding of Biblical language, imagery, and essential background truths. Those days are past, only making the job more difficult. Evaluating our own growth as a writer/speaker of English helps us to make connections and compensate for the lack of a shared Biblical vocabulary. 

One Job

    A preacher must be obsessed with preaching. It is our life’s work. It is a craft. It is laborious. It requires a mix of tools and approaches which is rare in most life endeavors. It can be done well, and it can be done poorly. Often the difference is the care and focus of the preacher. 

    We live in an era in which the Church is dominated by a program and music-driven approach to everything from growth to discipleship. Preachers who are focused on communicating the Word in a theologically and historically informed fashion will give leadership that is a timeless testament to the ongoing work of God in Christ Jesus.

Familiar Texts Elusive Contexts 9.7.2023

     I will begin my final major sermon series for 2023 this Sunday. Philippians is a favorite book for many. When preaching from familiar texts there is a risk of disappointing one’s listeners. Oddly enough this risk is a product of familiarity which is often divorced from immediate context and the place of a favorite text within the overall discourse structure of the book. In this case, we all know, love, and quote the following.

        “I can do all things through him who strengthens me.” (Philippians 4:13 ESV)

    The familiarity of this verse stems partly from how easy it is to memorize. It is short and pithy with a clear structure. We have seen this verse used as a motto inscribed on athletic shoes or even as a tattoo. When so used it is a clear, public faith statement. Yet lingering questions remain. Who is strengthened, who provides the strength, for what purpose, and why is such strength necessary? All these questions are of course answered in the broader embedded context of Philippians 4.

     Today’s discussion is about the use of scripture. The generation of annotated sneakers and tattoos is not the first to make a personal faith statement by such a performative use of scripture. When the early Christians wrote scripture in catacomb graffiti or turned verses into amulets to be worn, they were expressing contemporary practices of using scriptural texts as a form of personal faith statement, or sometimes as a lingering appeal to “sympathetic magic”. Using beautifully inscribed texts as statements, decorations, or talismans are all based on a common assumption that the text is something more, or other than what it means in context. This is now, was then, and shall always be the central issue and a persistent source of misunderstanding.

    The Bible speaks to individuals, but it is always embedded in community. Modern translations with chapters and verses as well as other attached metadata convey the impression that the Biblical text is primarily to be understood in those arbitrary, bite-sized pieces. This contributes to a broader cultural trend towards individualizing all experiences.  In one sense there is no such thing as Philippians 4.13, it is a sort of artificial construct, an ancillary consequence of the broader hermeneutical process that yields vernacular translation and broad dissemination, but which also requires greater exegetical responsibility. 

    In short, context makes meaning possible. If we did not know that the person sporting Philippians 4.13 on an NBA court claimed to be a practicing Christian, we would not know who the strengthening “Him” is, and we could assume any reason or none for the needed strength. How we talk about faith, how we learn, and how we engage with culture needs to go beyond easily digested soundbites. Intelligent and inquisitive unbelievers will be intrigued by bold faith claims. We need to make sure that every believer is equipped to answer their questions and address their curiosities. Without context and explanation even inspired scripture becomes just another cultural artifact.

    And this is not the only familiar, formative text in Philippians. We are instructed about joy, prayer, and humility. All these instructions so easily summarized in a bullet-point list—are embedded in contexts, central to emerging arguments, or essential to the structure of theological instruction. Without context, it is appropriate (and a legitimate exegetical concern) to ask whether these texts are accurately understood when used in such an anecdotal fashion.  

    My plea is not that we restrict our use of scripture, but that we expand our reach and be as explanatory as possible in such informal circumstances. I understand that a sneaker is not the place to engage in an extended debate about the nature of divine providence. However, wearing a tattoo or inscribing the shoe should inculcate certain responsibilities upon the wearer. The responsibility to know and understand the context, even when space restrictions require abbreviation. 

    Beyond that, it is right for us to expect someone quoting or displaying a scripture to apply the text to their lives. Philippians 4.13 is kind of a freebie. It is more about what God is doing for us, a bit vague about why we might or might not need strengthening, and a little hyperbolic.  It’s a clear example of Paul being Paul. Perhaps that is why we don’t see many sneakers with the following.

        “I have been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me. And the life         I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.”                     (Galatians 2:20 ESV)

    Equally Pauline but certainly more demanding. One text focuses on God and His graciousness to us, and the other focuses on our response. One expresses gratitude the other expresses grit. Each is a faith statement—of a different sort. One expresses faith in receiving something. The other expresses faith in resolving to do something. Each facet of faith contributes to the power and beauty of the whole. We live in a time where many people of faith embrace the former while ignoring the latter. Faith means both. 

    I look forward to preaching from Philippians because the brevity of the letter means that the space between the good bits is not that large and that nearly every week, we will have the opportunity to reflect on one of the powerful excerpts that for many have come to define this epistle. 

    Philippians contains doctrine. Philippians seeks to unify the Church around its core purposes. Philippians speaks to each of us, and all of us. Philippians reminds us that the context of incarnation was the purposeful determination of Jesus. And yes, Philippians inspires strength and faithfulness—in private devotion and the public square. We must keep the full message in mind lest elusive contexts create illusionary meanings for these familiar, empowering texts.