“What does this verse really say?”

“What does this verse really say?” This is probably the question I get asked most by those uninitiated into the joys of reading the Bible in the original Greek or Hebrew. The thought of accessing some special (read “secret”) meaning in Scripture is extremely appealing. Why else would Dan Brown’s books have sold so well? Alas, my answer to this question is often not what the inquirer hoped for: “Precisely what it says in English.” As boring as it sounds, that’s the answer for almost every passage of Scripture. Yes, there is the odd verse that may raise some questions (cf. Jesus’ statement to Peter, “Get behind me Satan,” vs. simply “Get behind me adversary”), but even in those cases, the translation you will find in most modern English translations is, at least, a strong possibility.

But the main problem with the above question is not the motivation for asking it; rather, the problem lies in the focus of studying the biblical languages. Instead of seeing the study of Greek, Hebrew, or even Latin as a portal to hidden meanings inaccessible through translation, original language study is chiefly an act of worship. Let us consider two reasons we should be driven to worship through study of God’s Word in the original tongues: because the languages are beautiful, and because they are hard to learn.

Reason One:

Worship—Because the Languages Are Beautiful

“When the Christian encounters such beauty, there is only one proper response: praising the Lord for his magnificent revelation.”

Photo by Tanner Mardis on Unsplash

In my years of studying, reading, and teaching biblical languages, I have often been struck by the majesty of the act: reading the words of the apostle, prophet, or church father in their original tongue allows a degree of participation that reading these texts in translation does not. It is one thing to read that “the Word became flesh,” but it is another thing to read John’s actual words, “ὁ λόγος σὰρξ ἐγένετο.” Through original language study we can see that the Beatitudes use as much alliteration as the most Baptist of Baptist pastors. We can see that James 1:17 is written in the same poetic meter as Homer’s poems, or that the Psalms (and indeed, the whole Old Testament!) are structured in a repeating pattern full of allusion, mirroring, and metaphor that rivals the world’s greatest epic poems. When the Christian encounters such beauty, there is only one proper response: praising the Lord for his magnificent revelation.

When we read the striking classical periodic structure introducing the letter to the Hebrews, there is reason to thank God for the Greek language’s ability to communicate so complex an idea in so flowing and elegant a style. When we read the wordplay in the genealogies of Genesis, we are bound to admire the handiwork of the Lord who inspired it. When we see the parallels between “בראשׁית” in Genesis 1:1 and “Ἐν ἀρχῇ” in John 1:1, we must marvel at the simplicity with which so lofty an event is described.

This is not to say that this beauty is inaccessible through translations. Indeed, much of it is! But the more I have studied and taught Greek and Hebrew, the more I have realized God’s providence in inspiring his Word into particular languages at particular times. Thus, by learning Greek and Hebrew, we can celebrate not only the Word of God, but also the words of God as he chose to reveal them. And that is a joy worth knowing.

Reason Two:

Worship—Because the Languages Are Hard

“The difficulty you face in learning the languages reflects the great artistry present in the text of the Bible.”

Photo by Mick Haupt on Unsplash

At one of the tea times last year, President Johnson shared his reflections on a video produced by retired Navy SEAL Jocko Willink titled “Good.” The video is straightforward: whenever we encounter an obstacle to success, or a disappointment, or anything that inhibits us on the path we have chosen, good. We can now rise to the challenge afresh, armed with the knowledge and skill set to overcome what stopped us before. “If you can say the word ‘Good,’ guess what? It means you’re still alive. It means you’re still breathing. And if you’re still breathing, well now, you’ve still got some fight left in you.”¹ The difficulty doesn’t break the experience, it makes it.

In a way quite different from Navy SEAL training, studying Greek and Hebrew is hard. You may not risk being drowned by a super soldier, but you may very well spend many a sleepless night poring over grammars, lexica, and biblical passages. You will very likely exert tremendous effort for a disappointing grade and contemplate quitting this study altogether. But when we encounter these challenges, what if we say, “good”? Even better, what if these challenges lead us to worship God for the depth of his revelation in Scripture?

Consider this: the difficulty you face in learning the languages reflects the great artistry present in the text of the Bible. If it were easy, the Bible might read something like a newspaper—informative, but boring. Instead, Scripture is full of some of the most incredible literary beauty, and that means you will have to learn both the science of the language (which is often drab and repetitive, but helpful) and the art of the language (where the difficulty and the beauty lie).

Your education at Sattler will well prepare you for such discoveries. If there is one thing I have learned in my time here, it is that the students are up to the task they’ve been given, particularly in the study of Greek and Hebrew. And if the tediousness of deep language study gets to you, remember the words of the great Anglican theologian Sir Edwyn Hoskyns, “Bury yourself in the lexicon and arise in the presence of God.”²

1. Jocko Podcast. “Jocko Willink ‘GOOD’ (Official)” YouTube video, 2:19. January 25, 2016. https://youtu.be/IdTMDpizis8. ↩︎
2. Attributed to Sir Edwyn Hoskyns (Dempster, Stephen G. Dominion and Dynasty: A Theology of the Hebrew Bible. Downers Grove, IL: IVP Academic, 2003. Page 26, Footnote 22). ↩︎