Same When I’m Here and When I’m Away

(September 17, 2017) 6:40 AM One year I taught Greek in a foreign setting and asked the principal of the college where I was teaching if I could use closed-book take-home exams. He looked at me like I had ten heads, “You can’t do that,” he said. “Why not?” I asked. “I use them at home all the time.” His reply shocked me: “Because the students will cheat. They will use their textbooks while taking the exam. It’s happened before. I’m sorry, but I just can’t allow that.”

This incident came back to me yesterday as I read Paul’s words in Phil. 1:27: ” … whether or not I’m able to go and see you….” He says basically the same thing in 2:12: “So then, my dear friends, just as you always obeyed me when I was with you, it’s even more important that you obey me while I’m away from you.”

I think Paul’s point is pretty clear. Obedience to the Lord’s commands should not be dependent on Paul’s personal presence. There’s an unhealthy tendency for us to lean too heavily on our teachers. Is this not true? The Philippians must learn to rely more on God than on the presence of any teacher of theirs. Every parent knows exactly what Paul is saying. The purpose of parenting is to give our children roots and then to give them wings, to live out God’s plan for their lives without our supervision and advice. Moreover, every parent knows their own weaknesses and shortcomings. As hard as we may try to lead our children and guide them into maturity, we realize that, in the end, this is a God thing. And so, conscious of our own imperfections, we give our children to God. We don’t know where they will live or what careers they will choose or how many children they will have, but if there’s one thing we do know it’s that long before they belonged to us, they belonged to God. They can trust Him wherever they live and whatever they do and regardless of how many kids they have.

This gives me such comfort. I can entrust my children — and my students — to the care of Jesus. If they follow Him, everything else will fall into place. Perhaps that’s why I enjoy teaching Greek so much. Greek is a tool that (hopefully) equips and empowers our students to think for themselves, to wean themselves from what can often become a slavish dependence on others to understand “what the Bible means.” In so many of our churches, the staff is expected to take full spiritual responsibility for people. Folks, that’s asking too much of them. I wonder if a “Come to us and we’ll tell you what the Bible means” approach is workable let alone biblical. I think what Paul’s doing with the Philippians is essential. He’s transferring spiritual responsibility from leaders to Christ-followers. This is a philosophy of ministry that can be profoundly good for our congregations. Yes, let’s go ahead and teach one another. All well and good. But let’s also be sure that we, as individuals, are in the word ourselves.

The bottom line? People will fail us. Even people we trust. But Jesus is ever faithful. In essence, Paul is saying to the Philippians: Jesus is all you need. No one loves you more. No one will teach you better. He is enough. I may not be able to be with you, but you are never alone.

Philippians 1:27-30 – What Does an American Christian Look Like?

(Sunday, September 17, 2017) 2:04 PM What does an American Christian look like? We look like any other people outwardly. We don’t normally dress much differently from unbelievers. We don’t wear our hair differently. We don’t have secret handshakes. We don’t all drive the same model car. In the grocery store you’re unlikely to be able to pick out the Christian from the non-Christian. So what’s the difference between those who are born again and those who aren’t?

One again, Paul helps us out. In Phil. 1:27-30, he’s clear that one of the distinguishing characteristics of Christians is they suffer for Christ, or at least are willing to do so. This is a “given,” writes Paul, using a construction sometimes called the divine passive. Thus “it was granted to you to suffer” could be rendered “God has granted this to you.” This has always been the case. In every generation, those with a whole-hearted allegiance to the Gospel can expect to share in the sufferings of Christ.

The idea of suffering for Christ is not an unusual one for Paul. In the book of 2 Corinthians, not once but twice he lists the sufferings and trials that came to him for being a Gospeler. Here’s one of them (2 Cor. 6:4-10). At first blush there seems to be no rhyme or reason to Paul’s list.

But a closer look reveals some interesting patterns.

In the ISV, we tried to indicate the thought units as follows (please note the punctuation):

I see that Eugene Petersen also seemed alert to some of these patterns.

Note especially the following constructions:

  • “in hard times, tough times, bad times”
  • “when we’re beaten up, jailed, and mobbed”
  • “working hard, working late, working without eating”

Brilliant! The point is that Paul didn’t just talk about suffering for Jesus; he experienced it. And because he stood strong in spite of sometimes fanatical opposition, he can exhort the Philippians to do exactly the same thing (“Don’t be intimated by your opponents in any way”).

I once saw a bumper sticker with the words “Things Go Better with Christ” — a takeoff on a Coke commercial. That’s not always true, of course. In fact, if I understand Paul correctly here, God never intended things to “go better with Christ.” Thousands of Christians around the world (yes, in 2017) are undergoing extreme suffering for their faith. You can’t live uncompromisingly for the Gospel and not have some scars to show for it. By saying yes to Christ, we have to comparatively say no to everything else, including our comforts and safety. Paul doesn’t mean that we go out and look for trouble. He’s simply saying that my love for Christ should be infinitely deeper and stronger than my love for my own life.

Once again, in Philippians we see Paul at his very best. He rejoices and give thanks in everything, including his own sufferings and hardships. What a remarkable example he is for us. May God grant us courage as we seek to live and speak the truth in love in our own communities and nations.

Philippians 1:21 – My Life Is Christ

(Friday, September 15, 2017)

10:48 AM It’s another gorgeous day here on the farm, though the temps are gradually creeping back up into the mid-80s. It’s hard to believe that we’ve got less than three and a half months left in the year. The semester seems to be flying by. We’re already in Phil. 1:27-30 and I haven’t said a thing about 1:21! People sometimes ask me if I have any routines in my daily schedule, something I do repeatedly, and actually I do. I suppose you could say I repeat Phil. 1:21 almost like a mantra: “For to me to go on living is Christ, and to die is gain.” I’m ashamed to say it, but I don’t always find my identity in Christ. That’s why this verse is so important to me. It’s a reminder that my life with Christ is what really matters. It loosens my grip on all circumstances and props and frees me from all those things I generally rely on or deem important. When I’m unappreciated, my life is Christ. When someone says or writes something nice about me, my life is Christ. This is a verse that will force your values and fears out of the shadows and into the light. I can’t help but think how different my daily life would be without Christ. Without Christ, life is vanity. Without Christ, love erodes. Without Christ, living is a drudgery. Paul, I think, reached the same conclusion. He wrote a verse that is used today in ways he would have never imagined. The thing is, God wants my whole heart. Not just a part. All of it. I can’t, like Ananias and Sapphira, hold something back. Friends, dwell on Christ’s sole sufficiency today. He wants us to experience the “glorious riches” He has planned for us from the beginning of time (Rom. 9:23). Feel old and useless? God’s saving His best for last. He’s got plans for your life that will amaze you.

Today, let’s kick up our heels in the sunshine of Christ’s presence.

Philippians 1:27 (politeuesthe)

7:55 AM I am very blessed to live in the countryside. This is the view I get to see most every morning from my front porch as I read my Bible.

I love the view. Like, love it. I’m talking about my Bible. Oh yes, the sunrise is nice too. So is nature. There’s so much to love in life. I love the outdoors. I love humor. I love sarcasm and witty people. I love symmetry and precision and balance and saliency. That’s why I was thrilled to be in Phil. 1:27-30 this morning. I felt like I was a 4-year old locked in a candy store. Thank you, Paul, for making your POINT so clearly. You know, folks, Phil. 1:27 contains the most important verb in the entire letter. (I know you’re cynical. Stay with me.)

Let’s set aside, to begin with, all of the standard translations for a moment. Paul is not telling us to “conduct ourselves” or “live” in a manner worthy of the Gospel. Consider his use of the verb politeuesthe (“live as good citizens”). Philippi was a Roman colony, remember? So it only makes sense that Paul would appeal to the Philippians’ sense of civic duty. Which is exactly what he does with this verb —  the letter’s first imperative. (Told you it was important.) Note the following:

And this:

Today most of us don’t live in real communities so we don’t know what Paul is talking about. But for those of us who live in rural settings … bingo! When I first moved to North Carolina 20 years ago, I joined the local volunteer fire department, like this one.

See the words “Our Duty”? If you were a MAN in Granville County, North Carolina, you joined the VFD. It was as simple as that. It was my civic duty. Didn’t matter that I was pretty lousy at operating the fire hoses. I was so bad that, in fact, I was eventually “promoted” to chaplain. Still, I faithfully attended our monthly meetings, turned out in full gear for all training sessions, and was often the first on the scene of a house fire or a car accident. I think I know a little about what it means to belong to a “community.”

Let me pause to remind everybody I’m pretty apolitical on this blog, intentionally so. Politics, for me, is largely a huge distraction from what God’s called me to do. But here, in this passage, politics can’t be avoided, for the simple reason that Paul is using a political metaphor to make his point. The inhabitants of Philippi were, quite simply, proud of the fact that they lived in a Roman colony. Almost half of the population enjoyed Roman citizenship. Hence Paul’s wordplay. It goes something like this:

Now the only thing in life that really matters is that you live out your citizenship in a manner required by the Gospel of Christ, so that, whether or not I’m able to go and see you in person, I will hear that all of you are standing side by side with one common purpose: to work together for the faith of the Gospel.

The use of this political metaphor is, as Fee reminds us, “a brilliant stroke” (p. 78). The “civic” responsibilities Paul has in mind are the duties incumbent upon all of us as citizens of heaven (see 3:20). This helps untangle us from the God and Country narrative that so often entraps us and sets God free to be God instead of just another idol we worship along with Caesar. It lends restraint when declaring our political views as “Christian” because sometimes my political allegiances sound suspiciously like the American Dream rather than like the Gospel Commission. The Gospel for Paul is ultimately about loyalty. Which “god” gets my allegiance? The state or the Gospel? Our allegiance is not to Caesar Kurios (Lord Caesar) but to Iesous Kurios (Lord Jesus), before whom every knee will one day bow, including those of the emperor himself. We are citizens of the kingdom of heaven. This is our place. These are our people. This is our life. Paul is asking us to rethink our priorities. Get a handle on who we are. On what we value. On how we want to live. Young Christian, it’s time to live for the Gospel. Retiree, it’s time to place the Gospel first. Greek prof, a worthy life involves living for others as Christ loved them, sharing with them the ridiculous mercy God has poured out on you. This is our high calling as citizens of heaven. God makes us worthy of the Gospel of Christ as we desire His kingdom above everything else. No early citizenship could ever be more important than our heavenly citizenship. And guess what — we have access to this kingdom now: love, kindness, sacrifice, patience in the midst of persecution, joy in the midst of sorrow, self-control.

This was the high calling of every Philippian who claimed the name of Jesus, and it’s my calling too, and yours.

Gifts – Greek -sis and -ma Endings

[Friday, September 15]

6:20 AM The study of Greek has changed my life in such acute ways I can no longer envision my life without Greek in it. And I don’t think I’m weird in this respect. Some of you are the same way. Before I studied Greek I had no idea how languages worked. Then I joined the fray. I’ve had so many great teachers. One of them, a certain Colin McDougall, exposed me to morphology when I was in seminary. He was the only Greek prof at Talbot, as I recall, who paid any attention to linguistics. His discussions changed my life for the better. My book Linguistics for Students of New Testament Greek is all his fault, I guess you could say. I’ve never done this publicly before so here goes: Thank you, brother McDougall, for being a true advocate of language study. Which brings me back to the subject of morphology. Which of the following renderings of James 1:17 do you like the best?

Whatever is good and perfect is a gift coming down to us from God our Father (NLT)

Every good and perfect gift is from above (NIV)

Every good thing given and every perfect gift is from above (NASB)

Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above (ESV)

Every generous act of giving and every perfect gift is from above (ISV)

As I write this, my Greek 3 students are reading my chapter on morphology in Linguistics. They’re learning the difference between a –sis suffix and a –ma suffix, for example. Notice what James writes (James 1:17):

Πᾶσα δόσις ἀγαθὴ καὶ πᾶν δώρημα τέλειον ἄνωθέν ἐστιν

This verse has earned a clear spot on my Morphology Greatest Hits List with its interesting use of both of these suffixes within the space of 4 words. The first word for “gift” has the –sis suffix — a process morpheme — and the second word for “gift” has the result morphemema. Let’s see how this plays out. The NIV thinks the repetition of “gift” is redundant — hence “Every good and perfect gift.” The ESV translates both of the “gift” words but without any distinction in meaning. The ISV deviates from the norm and tries to tackle the issue of morphology — “Every generous act of giving and every perfect gift.” I’m not saying this is necessarily correct. But why would James use two different words for gift unless he wanted to stress different nuances? Again, it could be simply for stylistic variation without any change in meaning. But it could also be because he wanted to emphasize that both the gifts we give to others and the generous impulse that led us to give those gifts come from God. There’s a nice flavor here, wouldn’t you admit? Admittedly, I’m a bit biased toward the ISV’s rendering. In addition, I have an inexplicable, boundless love for all things Greek. But the best thing about Greek is that it helps us to ask questions. Hear this (again): Greek isn’t the Abracadabra of exegesis. We’re so conditioned to hearing “The word in the Greek means …” from our pulpits that we’ve forgotten that meaning is a very muddy concept. Calvin referred to “the God who lisps.” He didn’t mean that the Bible contains mistakes. He meant that when God decided to speak to us, He decided to use ordinary human languages, with all of their susceptibility to ambiguity. I’ve discovered I can study a passage in Greek for days and still not really understand exactly what it’s saying. My goal becomes: This matters, this doesn’t. This counts, this doesn’t. I’m so grateful for the work of Bible translators. Without them most of us would be in the dark. I’m sure of it. But no two translators see the text in exactly the same way. Hesitantly, I offer to you the ISV’s rendering as one possible alternative to what you’re used to reading. Clearly I believe my job as a Greek prof is more than teaching paradigms. Are there ways a knowledge of Greek can enhance our study of God’s word? I think maybe there is. And James 1:17 might just be one example.

I have no expectation that this rather whimsical post this morning will radically alter anybody’s life. Aside from simply loving Greek, I think the inspirations underlying my teaching have changed through the years. The biggest driving force has been to help students think for themselves. I feel a real sense of urgency to show them ways that Greek can make a real difference in their lives, even in such areas as the way they think about giving. If you want to study Greek, just do it. As with running, it’s not as hard as you think. You just need to modify your schedule a little bit and be sensible. Needless to say, once you’ve crossed over to the dark side, you’ll never be the same person again.

(From Dave Black Online. Used by permission.)

*OF* Learning Greek

[Thursday, September 14]

7:26 PM What does the phrase “the faith of the Gospel” mean in Phil. 1:27?

for the faith, which is the Good News (NLT)

the faith that comes from the gospel (HCSB)

the faith that the Good News brings (God’s Word)

people’s trust in the Message (The Message)

so da odda peopo goin trus da Good Kine Stuff Bout Christ too (Hawai’i Pidgin)

Fee (p. 77) thinks the phrase means either “the faith contained in the gospel” or “the faith, that is, the gospel.” The NLT agrees with the latter:

fighting together for the faith, which is the Good News.

It’s so tempting to translate this literally, to go along with the majority of translations, but this will not do, simply because “the faith of the Gospel” doesn’t mean anything in English. (Yeah, I know, I used that expression in an earlier blog post today, but I’ve since repented.) Unless Paul is intentionally using ambiguity here, he means one thing, and it’s our job as exegetes to determine which meaning he had in mind. As I told my Greek 3 students last Tuesday night when we were going over the Greek cases, the genitive will give you a Charley Horse between the ears if you’re not careful. All due respect to those who render the expression as “the faith of the Gospel,” but pretending that people know what that means isn’t being honest with the text. Caring about the deep structure of the text is a big, big deal. And here — as in so many places — Greek simply will not tell you what Paul means, though (thankfully!) it will limit your options. Genitive of source? Genitive of apposition? There is no secret way around the problem. You guys, this is exactly why we need to learn Greek.

The end.

(From Dave Black Online. Used by permission.)