NT Resources Blog

I just learned something important about creating pdf files from Accordance. I’ve never been able to figure out how to fix this, but whenever I received Accordance pdf files or created them, they have always refused to print from Windows. So I’d have to move the file to my (ancient) laptop, take that to somewhere where I could plug into the campus network, and print from there. Now I’ve discovered the solution–which is very helpful since with a new MacBook I’m working my way towards “Windows-independence” even in my study on campus and the classroom. When creating pdf files from within Accordance, instead of selecting (in the Print dialog) “Save as pdf” you need to select “Save as pdf-x.” That’s a subset of the pdf format which embeds the fonts. The resulting file will print just fine from Windows (or a Mac without the Accordance fonts).

Thanks to Danny Zacharias (of the Deinde blog team) in a comment on Joe Week’s Macintosh Biblioblog.

I’ve been listening to the audio from the 2008 T4G conference on my commute this week. I’ve not heard them all yet, but I finished this morning John MacArthur’s session on total depravity. It’s worth listening too; one of the better I’ve heard from MacArthur. He not only works through the biblical data well, but suggests some thoughtful application to how that doctrine impacts ministry. Highly recommended. You can find a download link here.

Added note: I just remembered a quote I had intended to included (prob. not exact, but close enough so you get the gist):

The pastorate is the only profession in the world in which the person can take no credit for any success; he can take credit only for failure.

(That is, God gets all the credit!)

I went hunting for these photos this afternoon and couldn’t easily find them on my web site (they are there), but in hunting realized that I’d never posted them on my blog. So, for your encouragement (or entertainment!), here are two fun photos (the first spontaneous/unstaged, the second with a few slight tweaks):

And the second,

This is Liam, one of my grandsons. The photo was taken a year or so ago. My daughter glanced in the living room one day and caught him pulling a book off the bookshelf to “read.” She knew immediately that I’d be impressed, so grabbed the camera and got a quick pix, then added the tweaks for the second photo.

Not sure how Dave managed to sit for such a good portrait, but he reports that this is “a portrait of me executed over 2,000 years ago in a previous incarnation.”

Hmmm. Most tablet PCs use the stylus on the screen, not the keyboard! Creative work, nonetheless. Be interesting to know who the artist is.

(I’ve cropped the image a bit; the original is here–see 5/1/2008 post at 7:20 AM [Dave’s “blog” is done in FrontPage rather than in blog software!].)

Here’s a new service that I’ve wished for many times: The library at SBTS has put online a database that provides the table of contents of recently received journals. It can be accessed by journal, but the best way to track this info will be, I think, to use the RSS feed and get new items as they are posted. The individual items are scanned images of the TC page. More details at the site linked above.

This will be an enormous help in “keeping up” with new material as it becomes available.

HT: Justin Taylor at Between Two Worlds

I’ve just updated my Unicode Greek keyboard for Mac. The name has changed; it’s now “Greek KoineRD” (so that it sorts with the other Greek keyboards already installed in OS X; It was formerly named “Polytonic Greek”). I’ve also added an icon file so that it can be easily distinguished from others keyboards in the Input menu. You can download it from my Unicode page, or directly here: keyboard layout and icon file. (These two files are not bundled; you need to install both of them. One of these days I need to figure out how to create a bundle so it’s just one file.)

To install: copy both files above (Greek KoineRD.keyloyout and Greek KoineRD.icns) to the folder: ~/Library/Keyboard Layouts/ then log out and back in, open the International Preferences pane, and on the Input Menu tab, check the “Greek KoineRD” listing. If you have also checked “Show Input menu in menu bar,” then “Greek KoineRD” should appear as a menu item there.

Pressing Command-Spacebar will toggle between the two most recent keyboards; Command-Option-Spacebar will cycle through all the active keyboards so you can select a specific one (which is why the icon file is important).

I’ve also updated the other “Unicode on Mac” links on the Unicode page, deleting some that are now outdated.

- - -

Update: A couple of notes in response to queries I’ve received:

To download these two files, do a “right click” (or if you don’t have a two button mouse, Control-Click; or if you have a new Mac, a “two-finger click”), and select “Save link as” (or the equivalent command in your browser). This will save a file with a “keylayout” (or “icns”) suffix. The user does not have to bundle them (the “bundling” is something I should do to make it easier for users since the result is a single file instead of two; someday maybe I’ll have time to figure out how to do that.); just copy both files that are downloaded into:

~/Library/Keyboard Layouts/

You’ll have to log out and back in (or Restart if you run in single-user mode) for the new keyboard to be recognized.

This keyboard follows TLG beta code, so it’s pretty easy to use. The major difference is that the diacritic must be typed *before* the vowel instead of after. I wish I knew how to reverse that and put the diacritic after the vowel, but Mac standard proceedure is the reverse. I’ve heard it can be done, but it’s apparently not very obvious.

See the templates posted here for an easy-to-use reference chart for the keyboard.

There is also more detailed info and a downloadable pdf file on the keyboard support page.

There’s a very blunt commentary on the web site of the Henry Institute, posted this weekend by Russell D. Moore, taking serious issue with Willow Creek allowing Brian McClaren to promulgate nonchristian teaching on their platform.

Willow Creek hosted a conference on youth ministry, and featured author Brian McLaren as a speaker. At the conference, McLaren called on his hearers to rethink some doctrines of the faith, to decrease their focus on eternity in favor of social justice in the here and now.

First of all, we are now well past the time when Christians can claim ignorance of the agenda of Brian McLaren. He has made repeatedly clear his hostility to the most basic aspects of the gospel message. McLaren’s comments at Willow Creek are not themselves surprising. What is surprising is that a Christian conference, especially one growing out of a movement designed to reach “seekers” for Christ, would invite him to speak.

When McLaren questions the existence of hell and the hope of the Second Coming, he is not a “new kind of Christian.” Such things are neither new nor Christian. They are instead a repetition of the voice of a snake in a long-ago Garden: “Has God said?” and “You shall not surely die.” It is tragic that one of the world’s most renowned evangelical churches would highlight this kind of Serpent-sensitive worship.

Second, McLaren’s comments about the biblical doctrines of hell and the Second Coming leading to violence and domination are particularly unfortunate, indeed absurd. It is these doctrines, in fact, that actually keep Christians away from such violence and domination.

See also the longer news story posted on Baptist Press.

HT: Ben Wright, Paleoevangelical blog

Here’s a good interview with Dave Turner regarding his new BECNT commentary on Matthew (Baker, 2008).

This week I read Memoirs of an Ordinary Pastor: The Life and Reflections of Tom Carson, by D. A. Carson (Crossway, 2008). This small book (it’s only 160 pgs.) deserves a thoughtful reading by anyone in pastoral ministry or preparing for it. I first read some of Tom Carson’s story several years ago when his son (DAC) wrote a round table article for (I think) Southern Journal of Theology. The issue’s authors were asked to describe the person in the history of the church that had the greatest impact on them (or a question essentially to that effect; I don’t have it at hand to verify these details). Most selected well known figures (Calvin, Edwards, etc.), but Carson took a different tact: “Let me tell you about an unknown pastor named Tom.” He then related the story of a cross-cultural minister who labored all his life in a foreign culture and language, often opposed by the local religious authorities (and his children sometimes beaten up on the way home from school at the instigation of those authorities), and with little visible results to show for his years of ministry. It was not until the last sentence that the reader understood who this unknown Tom was: “Tom Carson was my Dad.” I confess that sentence generated a sob as I read it. I’ve told the story to many of my classes since then, and have never been able to recite the last sentence without choking a bit. Even now my eyes are a bit misty again.

I had respected Dr. Carson for many years as, IMHO, the dean of evangelical NT scholars, but this article was my first glimpse into his family and his profound respect for and appreciation of his father’s faithful ministry. It tugs at my heart perhaps because Tom Carson reminds me so much of my own father—an even lesser known pastor who, while a seminary student, planted a rural church and then pastored it for 53 years, all that time as a bi-vocational “tentmaker.” (He’s still living, now in his 80s, and coping with Parkinson’s; we moved 30 miles from the seminary a few years ago to live next to them.) I suspect that Memoirs of an Ordinary Pastor was not easy to write, yet it is a fitting tribute to his father—and an equally fitting tribute to the grace and faithfulness of their Father.

The book is essentially an annotated edition of excerpts from the diaries of Tom Carson, with enough comments and explanation to make sense of those entries. This is not of the same genre as the published diaries of Brainard, Muller, etc. It does not attempt to glamorize Pastor Carson or cast him as a celebrated, larger-than-life hero figure. By describing him as an “ordinary” pastor, it means just that—a pastor who was not well known, who did not pastor a mega-church, who was largely unknown, who never “succeeded” in growing a church much beyond half a hundred, who often doubted his own commitment and ability, who was often discouraged, but who was nevertheless faithful in serving his Lord until the day he died. The story of that faithfulness is enough to provoke some serious self-examination by anyone in ministry. It is also tremendously encouraging to glimpse the ministry of someone like this and realize that it’s OK to be ordinary.

I suspect that some will read this book (or at least hear about it) and think it unhelpful to portray someone who did not accomplish “bigger” things in ministry. Some might even be inclined to scoff or criticize. It certainly isn’t the model for ministry that’s sometimes presented as the only way to honor God—after all, if your church isn’t growing (in numbers!) then surely you must not be doing things right. If you do the right things and follow the right model, you should expect your church to grow. [I don’t know the right “emoticon” to use to portray the tone I intend for the last few lines!]

More could be said about this book, but you’d be better off to just go buy it and read it yourself. If in doubt, look at the comments of the reviewers on the back cover and inside the front cover. They say quite a bit in what few words were allotted them.

There’s more info on the publisher’s page, including the contents, and preface & ch. 1 (in pdf format).

I just came from a NT dissertation defense by Dan Fabricatore. His dissertation was titled, “A Lexical, Exegetical, and Theological Examination of the Greek Noun μορφή In Philippians.” It will be available later this summer via ILL from our library, and eventually from UMI/ProQuest.

During the defense Dan shared this wisdom:

Lessons Learned from Writing a Dissertation

• You will never feel dumber than while trying to earn a Ph.D.

• Writing a Ph.D. dissertation is a lot like remodeling a kitchen in a 100 year old house: It will take you where you did not want to go, keep you there longer than you wanted to stay, and cost you more than you were willing to pay.

• Keep a family picture near by so you can remember what they look like.

• Your advisor is not Attila the Hun; it just seems that way.

• When you think you are done; you’re not even close.

• Don’t type when you’re tired.

I suspect that list could be supplemented! (If you have suggestions, use the Comments section below.) And yes, I’m “Attila.”

For those who might be interested, here’s a preliminary summary of the dissertation which Dan wrote for his introductory statement at the defense.

Dan Fabricatore

Dissertation Defense 4/18/08

Introduction

The purpose of this dissertation is to determine the meaning of μορφή in Philippians 2:6-7. The dissertation adopts a synchronic approach to lexical semantics, and examines a cross section of Greek writers who use μορφή from the classical period up through the first century A.D. The dissertation also looks how the μορφή has been interpreted throughout the church age, before exegetically examining the passage and interpreting the term in its context.

The conclusion reached in this dissertation is that μορφή denotes the visible appearance of the Son as God prior to his incarnation. This visible manifestation of Christ as God is associated with his glory (δόξα). When Christ became a man, he took on the visible appearance of a slave, an interpretation made against the social backdrop of slavery in the Greco-Roman world. When Christ became man, the visible manifestation of his divine glory was veiled. This understanding of μορφή is in contrast to a popular connotation that μορφή refers to the essence or nature of God (2:6) and the essence or nature of a
slave (2:7).

This interpretation of μορφή is based primarily in the lexical data regarding μορφή, as well as contextual indicators in Philippians 2:6-8. Lexically, a thorough sampling of μορφή among classical and hellenistic Greek writers demonstrates that the overwhelming uses of μορφή denote the visible form or shape of someone or something. This fact is also true of Aristotle and others who are sometimes cited by commentators (such as J. B. Lightfoot) as being the source for Paul’s understanding of μορφή in the philosophical manner of essence or nature. On some occasions μορφή refers to the physical stature or beauty of a person. On rare occasions it denotes the essence or nature of an object. Contextually, the uses of ὁμοίωμα, σχῆμα, and ἄνθρωπος all serve in verse 7 to stress the visible reality of the humanity of Christ.

This interpretation does not diminish the essence or nature of Christ as God or a slave, since both θέος and δοῦλος carry such a semantic understanding. It is just that μορφή does not mean that here.

Lexical Support

Determining the meaning of μορφή in Philippians 2:6-7 in light of the lexical data suffers from one inescapable reality. Of the some 650 known uses of μορφή from Homer up to Josephus, only 2 are in the New Testament and both are in Philippians 2.

The dissertation examines over 100 separate uses of μορφή in classical and hellenistic Greek writings, papyri, inscriptions, and the early church fathers. Since Aristotle is cited as the one whose use of μορφή Paul draws upon in Philippians 2:6-7, his uses were examined extensively.

The term μορφή possessed a semantic range that remained stable for 800 years. From the earliest uses, it predominantly denoted the visible form or shape of an object.

For example, an early use of μορφή is in Aeschylus’ work, Eumenides. In the scene, Apollo enters from the inner sanctuary and responds to the chorus of the Furies, stating,

ἆρ’ ἀκούετε οἵας ἑορτῆς ἔστ’ ἀπόπτυστοι θεοῖς στέργηθρ’ ἔχουσαι; πᾶς δ’ ὑφηγεῖται τρόπος μορφῆς· λέοντος ἄντρον αἱματορρόφου οἰκεῖν τοιαύτας εἰκός, οὐ χρηστηρίοις ἐν τοῖσδε πλησίοισι τρίβεσθαι μύσος.

D’ye hear what sort of feast ye love that makes you detestible to the gods? The whole fashion of your form doth set it forth. Creatures such as ye should inhabit the den of some blood-lapping lion, and not inflict pollution on all near you in this oracular shrine. Begone, ye herd without a shepherd!

In the drama, Apollo casts out those who are reproached by the gods. The sense here is “the whole ‘makeup’or ‘guise’ of your form.” Aeschylus uses a construction (τρόπος μορφῆς) that contains two words that are sometimes used as synonyms. However in this construction they apparently are not used that way, since one is modifying the other. This type of construction also occurs among Greek writers on occasion with the terms μορφή and φύσις.

As a matter of fact, one is hard pressed to find uses that denote “pure” essence or nature. Such rare uses are found in the philosophers, where one would expect. An example would be from Aristotle in his work, The Physics. In it he writes, ἡ ἄρα μορφή φύσις (It is, then, the form that is nature). Such a use even by Aristotle is rare. In addition, it is possible even in this context to argue that μορφή and φύσις are different given the additional context. Yet even with Aristotle, the vast majority of his uses of μορφή denote something visible.

Writers of history such as Josephus use the term exclusively to refer to a visible object. Even in the rare uses where a writer is speaking of the nature of someone or something, it is often in reference to that which lies “behind” the visible entity. The overwhelming uses of μορφή to denote the visible appearance of an object puts great pressure on the interpreter to validate why he would dismiss such evidence. I believe that the context would need to be crystal clear that the normal use of μορφή could not be possible before attempting to defend a rare use of μορφή. The only good reason that I found to dismiss such lexical support was theological expediency.

Historical Support

I don’t think I should spend much time on this area since it is not critical to the interpretation of μορφή. I will say that the majority of scholars and preachers that I examined did seem to adopt the view that the “form of God” spoke of the essence or nature of God in contrast to the visible appearance view. However many of them would also hold that God’s glory was in play as well. Both views, the essence/nature view and the visible appearance/glory view hold to the deity of Christ prior to his incarnation. There is some “cross pollination” at work. Fortunately, the Bible has much built-in redundancy.

In addition, there would be reluctance to challenge such an interpretation of μορφή in Philippians 2 since the view is theologically robust. In other words, Why dabble with any view that magnifies the deity of Christ?

Exegetical Support

I believed going into the dissertation (and after as well) that the key to properly interpreting μορφή would ultimately reside in the text itself. I am a minimalist in many ways, and do not think that individual words in and of themselves can be asked to carry the bulk of semantic freight in a particular passage.

I do not believe that μορφή adds much to the passage in terms of essence or nature. If it had been left out altogether, the passage is not weakened in that regard: “who, though existing (as) God … took on servant(hood). If μορφή were absent, one could argue just as strongly that Paul was speaking of Christ as existing as “true” God (possessing his nature) and then took on the essence of a slave. This observation then begs the question: why μορφή? I believe Paul chose it to let his readers know that Christ possessed the very “form” of God that was often manifested in glory but that in an act of humility, he took another form (a slave) whereby his glory was veiled. In addition, the context in 2:7 argues for reference to Christ taking on a physical, visible form.

Theological Support

I hold that the visible appearance view regarding μορφή has theological implications in the passage that are theologically defendable. The view:

• Supports Christ as existent prior to his birth

• Supports Christ to be very God

• Supports Christ to be fully human

In a supporting manner, the term is used in conjunction with other theological truths:

• Christ is an obedient Son

• Christ is a humble God

Conclusion

Philippians 2:6-7 are at the heart of a great NT Christological passage, a passage that sets an example for believers to emulate. Christ had a great position of prominence, but he did not use that power for his own advantage, but for ours. Though he existed in the form of God, he humbled himself and took on another form, the form of a man, and a servant at that. He obediently died on a cruel Roman cross that sinners might be right with God.

There is no need to register to read the posts here, though you do need to do so if you’d like to comment–and I’d welcome your doing so. If you have registered and find that your former registration does not work, please re-register. It seems that many of the “spam bots” on the net work the registration angle as well trying to gain access to post “comment spam.” Thus far none have been able to do so (I think!) since there are other anti-spam measures here than registration. But I’ve just deleted several dozen bogus registrations. Some of these are obvious sure to the email address given, but I may have deleted some legitimate ones as well. Sorry if you got caught in my spam sweep. If you want to be sure I don’t delete you, give your real name on the registration form, and better yet, your blog or web address if you have one. This info is not displayed, is not accessible to outsiders, and will never be given to another party. But it does enable me to verify that a registration is a real person, not a spam bot.

And if you write a comment that does not show up within 24 hours (it should happen immediately), send me an email (see contact info on the sidebar). Especially if you’ve included more than one URL in your comment, it’s likely to be “held for moderation.” I don’t check the moderation list more than once a day, and often not that frequently.

Sorry for any hassles or complications–that’s life in a sinful world for you!

I just read a thoughtful article oriented to technology, but as I read, I realized that the insights offered are relevant to some ministry contexts also. The article on the Tidbits site is titled, “Instant Messaging for Introverts,” and is written by Joe Kissell. This isn’t the usual tech article, but includes some discussion of personality as well. Though I’m not into psychological discussions, Kissell’s observations about how different personality types interact with and use technology for communication (be that email, IM, Twitter, blogs, cell phones, etc.) strike me as being accurate and helpful. Kissell is an introvert—not “shy, withdrawn, afraid of crowds, or lacking in social skills”—that’s not what an introvert is. And introversion is not “a problem that needs fixing or as a trait that one should actively try to suppress and change.” You can read his description of introversion, but in its simplest form, it refers to those who tend to be focused more inward than outward. Kissel describes himself as someone who,

will happily stand in front of hundreds or thousands of people, give a speech, answer questions, make jokes, and generally take charge of keeping the group interested and involved. If anything, I have a reputation for being long-winded in social situations, telling stories that go off on one tangent after another—and for being among the last to leave. I like people, and I think I’m reasonably competent and comfortable in a crowd of any size.

However, given the choice, I do generally prefer to be alone. If you asked me which would be more fun—going to a lively party where I’d be socializing with a couple dozen other people or sitting in a quiet corner reading a book—I wouldn’t even have to think about it: I’d much rather sit alone and read. All things being equal, I prefer smaller gatherings to larger ones, and I prefer solitude to company.

One more quote before I make the association with ministry. “Another typical introvert trait is wanting to compose one’s thoughts carefully before sharing them (either verbally or in writing).”

Kissel’s ultimate purpose in his article relates to how different people use (or don’t use) specific kinds of current communications technology. He prefers email and tends not to use those forms that demand, by their very nature, immediate response, multi-tasking, and constant availability (e.g., IM, Twitter, cell phones).

As I was reading his discussion (curled up in a hotel near Boston this evening for the ETS Eastern region meeting tomorrow morning) I realized that there are a lot of parallels with my reactions to and participation in some forms of ministry. I’m also an introvert. Like Kissel, I have no qualms about speaking to a large group, teaching (preferably in a very interactive setting), using technology, etc. Though I’ll not likely be described as “the life of the party,” I’m not phased by walking into a large group/meeting/party, etc. and participating. But (and as one well known NT scholar is prone to say, “it’s a very large BUT!”) there are other forms of ministry and interaction where I do not “fit.”

In one of my several contexts I am expected to participate in a “small group.” And yes, I know, small groups have been the rage in ministry for some time now. At least where I’ve been involved, the expectation is that everyone is supposed to “share” what they’ve discovered in the Word of late (the more recent the better), and then the rest of the group is supposed to chime in and contribute to the discussion of the text (usually a relatively short text, often bereft of its context) as to what it means and how it “applies.” In such settings I typically sit quietly and observe.

I’ve always thought that such discussions ought to be based on someone preparing and teaching, or of several (or all) studying a passage in advance. The spontaneous sharing of comments without previous thought and preparation has always bothered me. I had not thought of it in terms of personality before. I still cannot fathom how or why people would treat the text in what seems to me to be such a “cavalier” way (that’s perhaps my problem for lack of imagination!), but it certainly does fit that those who seem most excited about such forms of ministry are decidedly not introverts! I guess I need to cut them some slack—but on the other hand, I’d suggest that it is not wise or helpful to expect everyone to fit into the mold of a method shaped by the extroverts. I see nothing in Scripture that requires introverts to treat their personality as somehow deficient or sinful—in need of remediation.

Though I think the method ought to treat the text somewhat more seriously than it sometimes seems to do, it is perhaps useful so long as it is not presented as THE way to do “real ministry” and so long as those of us “methodological misfits” are not pressured to become something we are not. And if you’re looking at this from the perspective of local church ministry as a pastor, don’t expect everyone in your congregation to flock to your small group/s. The lack of such a response says nothing about “how spiritual” they are. You need to provide multiple avenues of ministry to and for your people. Don’t force them to fit your mold—or the mold of a particular book or personality just because it is touted as THE answer to all your church’s problems.

If you’re excited by such methods, please don’t over-generalize what you like and find helpful as something that is required of everyone. There are other ways of encouraging and helping people to mature in their faith. You will not (indeed, cannot) find “small group ministry” in the NT—unless you go looking to find a prooftext for something you’ve already designed. That doesn’t mean the method is wrong, only that it is not a biblical mandate.

Here’s a blog post that’s well worth contemplating if you are in pastoral ministry, have aspirations to be, or have a heart for pastoral ministry. It’s from Owen Strachan on his blog Consummed. One short excerpt for the “flavor.”

Just as we need “theologian-pastors” (by which I’m referring to theologically astute pastors), so also are we in great need of “pastor-theologians” (by which I’m referring to academic scholars who bring pastoral concerns to bear on their work).

Don’t let the URL or the blog post title put you off; it’s not a political comment! That title is: “One Thing Jeremiah Wright Has Right: The Pastor Is a Theologian (and the Theologian Is a Pastor)”

I spent all day today framing a new woodshed (I have 4 of the 6 posts set, about half the stringers lagged to the posts, and one end rafter in place). But it was cold when I was ready to start—temperature hovering around 28. So I decided to generate some heat and burn a brush pile. (No it didn’t warm the shed! But by the time I finished the pile, the sun had been up long enough to take the edge off.)

Now since some of you are city folk, you might not know what “burning a brush pile” amounts to. When I moved back to the family farm a bit over two years ago, I put a house on 2 acres in the corner of an old pasture. The 300 feet from the house to the road is nicely cleared thanks to the bulldozer’s work when the house was built—and there’s even a fairly decent lawn growing there. But the rest of the 2 acres was badly overgrown with multiflora rose and thorn buses. Multiflora was a government “brainstorm” 60 or 70 years ago. It was advertised by (I think) USDA as a “living fence” and farmers were encouraged to plant it in fence rows so they wouldn’t have to mess with building fence every year. Worst fence idea ever conceived! Multiflora produces millions of seeds on every bush and they spread almost uncontrollably. It takes over the fence row all right, but it doesn’t stop there. It takes over the field as well. My wife and I have been gradually pushing back the acre of multiflora behind the house. It’s really nasty stuff to cut and move. Long, very long, stems covered with thorns; they commonly grow 10–20 feet long and make a tangled mass that nearly impenetrable. But we’ve gradually cut our way through the jungle and the last round of the battle in the fall produced a hugh pile of brambles, thorn bushes, and parts of an old apple tree that a storm toppled. Picture a pile about 20–25 feet in diameter and 10–15 feet tall. That’s what I burned this morning.

Now what does that have to do with learning Greek? Glad you asked. (But I would tell you anyway! ) The thought crossed my mind as I was standing by my bonfire, pitch fork in hand, that burning this pile was a lot like learning Greek. I’m not the best “fireman” in this department. My father could burn about any brush/junk pile, regardless of the weather. He liked to burn in the rain because there was less chance of the fire spreading. Though my son (who also lives across the road on the farm) has inherited some of his grandfather’s incendiary abilities, I haven’t. (I got up at 3 AM this morning and took my son and his family to the airport, so he wasn’t home to help.) For someone who doesn’t burn a lot of piles, or perhaps has never burned one, a pile like I had might look as intimidating as Greek. It’s not just a matter of lighting a match and flipping it into the pile. And learning Greek isn’t a casual proposition either. It might seem easy to get a pile to burn, but it isn’t. I usually plan my strategy carefully and set up several “launch points” around the pile. Today I used several banana boxes stuffed with crumpled newspaper and cardboard, some scraps of wood, all nicely soaked with diesel fuel and pushed in under the edge of the pile with some extra diesel tossed into the pile around the boxes. (Don’t ever use gasoline for this! You’re likely to get burned badly if you do.) When it was all ready, I used my propane torch to light the boxes. Looked impressive. (Diesel burns nicely!)

The theory is that these three “box fires” would ignite the big pile. The fires lasted for about 10 minutes. By then there were three “holes” in the pile and two of the fires were out, the third just flickering a bit. That’s a bit like some people’s attempts to learn Greek. They make lots of fancy preparations, but they fizzle out pretty early on in the process. Every few years I get a student who is enthusiastic and appears to soak it all up—until the first exam, after which I get a “drop slip” from the registrar’s office.

The problem is reaching “critical mass.” Until you get enough of the pile burning hotly enough to sustain itself, there are only short lived fires where you started. A brush pile is pretty “loose.” It’s not like a stick of dynamite where one fuse ignites the whole thing, of a fireplace or campfire where (theoretically!) you have nice dry kindling and fire wood piled close together. Learning elementary Greek is more like the brush pile than the fireplace. There’s lots of material—it’s a big pile, but when you’re starting out, it doesn’t seem too well connected. Nouns and articles and adjectives and verbs and prepositions and … It’s all supposed to fit together and make meaning (fire). But though you may get some little fires going (maybe an article and a noun in one part of the text, and a verb somewhere else, etc.), it doesn’t seem to be generating much heat–and the smoke gets in your eyes. (That’s a fair substitute for what Bill Mounce calls “the fog”!)

So what do you do? Well, with my fire I nursed it along, kept pushing burnable material in towards the little fire I had going. Initially I used a rake (a really long handled rake with heavy tines–one my father-in-law used for hot blacktop when he worked construction) which let me push wide swaths of material toward the flame. Later I switched to the pitchfork so I could move specific pieces of the old apple tree towards the heart of the fire. Eventually the pile “caught” and I had a roaring fire that burned for a couple of hours.

With Greek you sometimes need to use the rake—i.e., see wide swaths of text that are fairly easy reading (Mark or John, e.g.). Other times you need the pitchfork: specific examples of the construction that you’re trying to master. That’s where a good NT language software tool will help. If you use a Mac and are serious about learning the biblical languages, you ought to have Accordance. If you’re on Windows, use BibleWorks or Logos. Learn how to do grammatical searches. No, Strong’s numbers won’t help much; you need a tool that can do grammatical searches. If you’re trying to figure out, say, genitive absolutes, you can search for a genitive participle without an article either followed by or preceded by a noun or pronoun in genitive case within two words. That won’t find all genitive absolutes, and what it does find will include some instances that are not valid examples. But what it will do is give you a list of possible examples that you can compare with your textbook. By deciding which is and which is not a valid genitive absolute, you’ll be reinforcing the grammar you’ve learned and moving some more dry material closer to the heart of the fire.

It saves a lot of work if you can get the pile burning on the side from which the wind is coming (even if it’s just a breeze) since that will push the fire towards the rest of the pile. My one good starter fire happened to be on the side, so I had a lot of extra work to do to get the lower part of the pile to burn. Problem is, you don’t always know what the wind is going to do—and it changes from time to time. You sometimes end up choking on the smoke when the wind changes. That happens in Greek, too. You seem to be doing fine, and all of a sudden the wind shifts and you’re in the smoke. What to do? Same as I do when burning brush—back out and tackle the pile from the other side. When you get totally frustrated and can’t make any sense out of a verse or grammatical construction, back out and try a different verse in the workbook. After you’ve worked that side of the fire a bit, the smoke may clear out so that you can go back to the one where your eyes were burning—and it may make sense now.

While my pile was burning this morning I thought of some other analogies, but they’re gone now–just like the smoke. But maybe that’s a good thing. I don’t want to overdo the analogy, just encourage you to stick with it and eventually you’ll have the pile under control. Getting rid of multiflora is a good thing. And so is learning Greek.

It’s been in the making for years (perhaps decades!), but today’s mail finally brought a copy of Dave Turner’s Matthew in the Baker Exegetical Commentary series. I won’t attempt a review here (I try not to review things I haven’t read!), but any exegetical commentary on Matthew is welcome—and one with a 70-some page, double-col. bibliography needs to be taken seriously. Dave is a careful scholar, so I anticipate his contribution in this work. I was Dave’s “grader/TA” back in the mid-70s in his first year of teaching and before he did his first doctorate. It was his first attempt at writing this commentary that caused him to resign from his teaching post (then at Grand Rapids Baptist Seminary) and return to HUC for a second doctorate in Second Temple Judaism so that he could handle Matthew. (He told me once that he didn’t think it was possible to write a com. on Matthew without that background.) I see the flyleaf still lists him as a “PhD cand.” at HUC, but he ought to be nearly finished by now.