How Reliable is the Text of the Bible?

I often read, for example, that the Bible has been “written, translated, edited multiple times”, with the implication that it’s not really reliable. Because the question comes up fairly often, I thought I’d elaborate briefly on what the Text of Scripture is, that we use today.

The Bible really hasn’t been “written, translated, edited multiple times”. Modern bible translations are based on some 5000 or so ancient manuscripts that still exist, not on translations of translations. Some of these manuscripts (the Dead Sea Scrolls) go back to a little before the time of Christ, and by careful comparison, scholars can pretty much tell which of those that were written even many centuries later are reliable. News flash: All of them, although the differences are occasionally interesting.

Our earliest NT manuscripts go back to about the year 300, but we have no reason to think the texts were changed between their writing (between 50 and 100 AD) and the 300s; and certainly they remained stable after that. The church fathers who quote the New Testament earlier than 300, didn’t quote anything different, even though, obviously they were quoting from manuscripts earlier than those we still possess

Everybody agrees on the core canon of the Old Testament, which is known as the “Masoretic Text” (“MT”) or the Hebrew canon. The word “masoretic” is based on the Hebrew word for “tradition”— it’s the traditional (Hebrew) text. The “critical edition” currently in use— i.e., the carefully vetted Text used today by all scholars for study and translation— is based on one manuscript that was produced in the 900s, the Leningrad Codex. If you look around on the internet, I think you can find photographs of the original online.

One other complete manuscript exists which is a few years older and almost indistinguishable from the Leningrad Codex. This is the Aleppo Codex, and it is currently being published but every “jot and tittle” has to be checked and compared with all other manuscripts that exist, differences noted and compiled, and so forth, and this will take some more years to complete. When done, the differences will be of interest only to specialists, but of course specialists do exist, so this is important.

You should be aware, though, that traditionally, the Christian Church never used the Hebrew Bible, but rather the Greek Septuagint— a translation of the Hebrew into Greek made by the Jews of Alexandria about 200 years before Christ. (It’s often referred to as the “LXX”, because it was supposedly translated by 70 experts; “septuaginta” is Latin for “seventy”, and the abbreviation is of course the Roman numeral, LXX, “70”.

The LXX contains a number of books that are not included in the MT; as well as other differences, some rather major. It appears that by the time of Christ, there were at least two versions of the Old Testament in circulation, one used especially in Alexandria, which became the Septuagint, and the other used in Palestine and Babylon, which became the the MT we use today. You remember that Alexandria was associated with the prophet Jeremiah, and Babylon with the prophet Ezekiel. They were aware of each other and in communication, but apparently had different manuscript traditions, which nobody seems to have been too worried about. Examples of both traditions are found (in Hebrew) among the Dead Sea Scrolls.

On the basis of a comment somewhere in Josephus, there’s reason to believe that the number of books in the canon was meant to match the number of letters in the alphabet; since the Greek alphabet has more letters than the Hebrew alphabet does, there are more books in the Greek canon than in the Hebrew. You reach the right numbers if you count the Twelve Minor Prophets as one “book” (for they were in fact written on one scroll), 1&2 Samuel and 1&2 Kings as one book each, and so forth.

For the most part, the LXX is what the NT writers used when they quoted or alluded to the OT, because they were writing in Greek. Thus, the Christian Church everywhere used the LXX as its Old Testament, and the LXX is still used directly (not in translation) by the Greek Orthodox Church.

Early on, there was an “Old Latin” translation of the OT from the LXX, but later St Jerome retranslated it, and his translation, the “Latin Vulgate”, became standard in the West. Interestingly, he chose to translate the Masoretic Text, although of course the Vulgate also includes the books that were in the LXX and not in the MT, because those had been in use since apostolic times in the Christian Church. Psalms also followed the Old Latin because it was used constantly in prayer and people were used to it.

It was Martin Luther who decided to eliminate the “extra” books, which are now known as the “deutero-canonical” or “apocryphal” books— those that are in the Greek LXX and not in the Hebrew MT— from the canon. He didn’t have any particular authority to do that, but he preferred “Hebrew truth” to anything he thought was “Greek”, and for that reason, Protestant bibles contain only the books that are found in the Hebrew MT, whereas the Catholics and the Orthodox continue to use the same Greek LXX canon that the Church has always been using. Most people don’t know that the KJV originally did contain the “apocrypha”, and you can still buy the “KJV Apocrypha” as a separate book from google.

As to the New Testament, everybody has always included the same 27 books, although the Ethiopians include a couple of others such as the Book of Enoch as well.

The NT was written in Greek, and most of our existing Greek Bible texts were understandably produced in what you might call “publishing houses” operated by the Greek-speaking Orthodox Church in the Byzantine Empire. There was an effort to correct and standardize the Text, but of course every scribe is going to make little errors, so there are occasional differences between manuscripts, occasionally they’re interesting. But of course we also possess many manuscripts that do not belong to this “Byzantine text-form”, and they tell us many things.

Above is a picture of the first page of Matthew as it appears in the standard critical edition of the NT. You’ll see lots of gobbledy-gook in the footnotes. That’s a highly compressed presentation of the differences between all manuscripts and an accounting of why the editors thought the reading given in the text above was more likely to be the original. Given that we have about 5000 hand-written manuscripts, you can see that there really aren’t very many differences. The text of the New Testament is quite well established. What you don’t see unless you’re an expert is that the differences tend to clump the manuscripts into “families”, so we can often tell the exact point at which a variant reading crept in. But as i said, most of the differences shown aren’t interesting to anyone but specialists— words in a different order (which you can often do in Greek without changing the meaning), spelling mistakes, etc.

There are a number of other books, the “pseudepigrapha” such as the Life of Adam and Eve and the Apocalypse of Isaiah, which were written between the two Testaments and after the New, but never became part of any canon (often for good reason). These are of interest, but they’re not part of any bible, except, as I said, for the Book of Enoch in Ethiopia and one or two others.

Scholars of every church are interested in the whole picture, including the MT, the LXX with its canonical and deuterocanonical / apocryphal books, as well as the pseudepigrapha.

All of it is valuable for knowing about our origins.

And of course, some modern translations are better than others, but you can rest assured that the underlying text, at least,of all bibles is reliable.

The Atlantic’s review of DBH’s New Testament

The Atlantic Monthly has published a new review of David Bentley Hart’s translation of the New Testament.

I like his use of “blissful” over “blessed” in the Beatitudes, but for Mark 1.40-41 (the cleansing of the leper), Hart’s rendering is still too elevated and does nothing to capture Mark’s style. In fact it’s not really very different from Knox’s (quoted in the article). As Hart has it,

“A leper comes to him, imploring him and falling to his knees, saying to him, ‘If you wish it, you are able to cleanse me.’ And, moved inwardly with compassion, he stretched out his hand and touched him, and says to him, ‘I wish it, be clean.’ ”

I’d put it rather,

“40 And there came to him a leper
begging him [and kneeling]
and saying to him that
If you want, you can clean me.
41 And Jesus, moved with wrath*
having stretched out his hand, touched him
and says to him,
I want! Be cleaned!”

*[or: ‘moved with pity in his guts’, but i think there are reasons for preferring ‘moved with wrath’, which appears in some manuscripts.]

Mark himself wrote,

40 Καὶ ἔρχεται πρὸς αὐτὸν λεπρὸς
παρακαλῶν αὐτὸν [καὶ γονυπετῶν]
καὶ λέγων αὐτῷ ὅτι
ἐὰν θέλῃς δύνασαί με καθαρίσαι.
41 καὶ ὀργισθεῖς*
ἐκτείνας τὴν χεῖρα αὐτοῦ ἥψατο
καὶ λέγει αὐτῷ·
θέλω, καθαρίσθητι.

[or: σπλαγχνισθεὶς.]

I also still think that the proper translation of “Logos” into English is “meaning”—

“In the beginning was the meaning,
and the meaning was with God,
and God was the meaning” (Jn 1.1).

I’m still waiting for Hart’s book to come out in paperback, so I haven’t read it yet. But what i’ve read so far really hasn’t impressed me as much as i’d expected. At this point i find myself questioning whether Hart can really leave behind his redoubtable and capaciously witty style as a “decidedly overcooked highbrow” and actually convey the feel of the original.

And I do most certainly and strenuously object to any assertion that the NT is “a grab bag of reportage, rumor, folk memory, and on-the-hoof mysticism produced by regular people, everyday babblers and clunkers”— though it may look that way at first— not because i think the NT “must have” been written by refined artists to be “worthy” of God or some such— but simply because I’ve studied Mark and Romans for the past ten years and am still astonished by the subtlety, complexity, and sheer pyrotechnical force of their structures and arguments!

Why did I have to make my own translation?

Both NT Wright, arguably the top New Testament scholar publishing today, and David Bentley Hart, the super-erudite Orthodox theologian who has taken even much of the Evangelical the world by storm, have released new translations of the New Testament in recent months. A friend of mine complained on Facebook that she had yet to hear any discussion about the need of a new bible translation.

That is rather unfortunate, because we seriously need one. Let me give a couple of examples, which will also give you a glimpse of some of the things you’ll get out of my Gospel of Mark Workshop:

Bread in Mark

The evangelist Mark uses the word “bread” (artos, ἄρτος) 21 (i.e., 7 x 3) times in his gospel. All but one of those occurrences are in the first half of his book; the only other is at the last supper (Mk 14.22).

Bread is a major theme in Mark, appearing some 3 times in each of the first eight chapters, and in fact (among other strategies) Mark builds the first half of his story around it. On the other hand, he uses the term “cup” (potērion, ποτήριον) 6 times, all but one of which (7.4) are found in the second half of his story— and again, he builds that half of his Gospel around the theme of the cup, among others.

Not entirely surprisingly, the two themes come together only in 14.22-23 (the last supper). So if you want to understand the Gospel of Mark, you have to recognize that he chooses his language very deliberately as he tells his story, and if you don’t get this, you’re missing a good deal of what he wants you to see.

Knowing this, you can understand why it’s not really helpful when translators decide to translate artos as bread one time, loaf another time, and leave it out altogether a third time. I’ve been studying Mark for more than ten years now, to the point where I’ve nearly memorized the entire book and even give workshops on it, and I can certainly assure you that despite his “rustic” style, Mark never ever uses a word carelessly— most especially when it’s one of his theme words!

So with this in mind, i invite you to compare Mark 2.26; 3.20; 6.8, 37-38, 41, 44, 52; 7.2, 5, 27; 8.4-6, 14, 16-17, 19; and 14.22 in the various translations that are available (you can readily compare quite a few of them at biblegateway.com).

You might argue that loaves means the same as bread, and that bread is ok in the singular but breads sounds odd in English— and you’d be right to argue that about English. But using loaves half the time and bread the other half suppresses a key auditory echo and obscures Mark’s thematic exposition.

And note in particular Mk 3.20, where NRSV and others just leave it out, presumably because “so that they could not even eat bread” seems odd— why single out bread, as opposed to other kinds of food? Could they eat carrots but just not bread? Surely this “must” be an example of Mark’s “rustic” usage!

Well, or so it might seem, if you’re not alert to the theme— and the fact is, no translators were very alert to “themes” like this, when any of our existing translations were published. For what is now called narrative criticism (the investigation of the writers’ various literary techniques and their impact on the story) has developed only in the past 30 years or so. (And by the way, it holds enormous and exciting promise for Orthodox theology!)

So it’s desirable to have a bracingly literal translation, as free as can be of theological or stylistic “decisions” by translators. It’s not good to think we know better than the writer what he “really wanted” to say, or to “smooth out” his style! And are we really surprised to discover in the Scriptures depths we never saw before?

Jesus’ faithfulness vs our faith

Another example is the famous and (needlessly) controversial expression, pistis Christou (πίστις χριστοῦ) found in Rm 3.22, Ga 2.16 (twice), 2.20, 3.22, and Ph 3.9; but contrast, e.g., Ga 3.26 and Col 1.4.

The Greek word pistis (πίστις) basically means trust or faithfulness, not belief in the sense we use it today— like, one “believes in reincarnation”, or “UFOs” or “penal substitutionary atonement” or some such.

And when Paul wants to specify the object of this trust or faithfulness, he uses the words in (en)  or toward (eis). But when he wants to speak of the one whose trust or faithfulness it is, he uses a possessive such as my (mou, μου), or your (ὑμῶν, hymōn), or of Christ (christou, χριστοῦ). The KJV almost gets this correct, in that it has “the faith of Jesus” in the passages I mentioned; it would be better if they’d rendered it as “Jesus’ trust” or “Jesus’ faithfulness”, but the case is no different than saying something like pistis paulou— i.e., “Paul’s faithfulness”. You would never even think of translating this as “faith in Paul”! It just means Paul’s, or Christ’s, act of trust or faithfulness.

But just about all modern translators have decided that what St Paul “really means” by his expression “pistis christou” is not “Christ’s [own] faith(fulness)” in God, but “[our] faith in Christ”. You see the difference? St Paul says that Jesus’ faithfulness to God saved us, whereas almost every modern translator makes him say that our faith (or even “belief”) in Jesus saves us. This, of course, is because they need to find in Scripture support for Luther’s idea of sola fide— that we are saved by faith alone.

And here arises a very serious problem, which causes a lot of people to abandon their faith altogether: How can I come to have this faith— or worse: this “belief”? Can I make myself “believe” something? Is that even honest?

You’d never know from your modern Bible translation that St Paul never demands that you have something called “faith”. He says over and over that Jesus’ faithfulness to God— his trust in God— has saved us. That’s a huge difference, and if the church hierarchs had any serious concern for these matters, they’d declare practically every last bible on the market invalid and not to be used by the faithful at all— and if not at home, how much less in church!

Oh, and by the way, all the fathers I’m aware of agree with me and the KJV, but not with the modern translators. The Greek is very simple; it’s only ideology that led people to view it as I’ve described.

Messiah

One final example: In our Bible translations, we need to stop using the word “Christ”. Of course, “Christ” is a perfectly legitimate translation of the Greek christos (χριστός, anointed), but we have to take into account the histories of words when we use them formally. For the New Testament writers, the word christos was simply the Greek equivalent of messiah, or anointed (one). If when you read the NT— especially perhaps Acts and St Paul— and every time you come to “Christ” you back-translate it as Messiah, you’ll quickly come to realize what the whole argument was about, in the apostolic era: Who is the Messiah?

But our translations don’t make it easy for us to see this, because the word christos had a subsequent thousand-year dogmatic development in which it came to be defined not by Old Testament notions of the Messiah so much as by the great conciliar dogmas about the Three Persons, the Two Natures, and the Virgin Birth. Those are, of course, completely correct and unimpeachable and necessary dogmatic formulations, but they are not the ideas that Matthew, Mark, Luke, John, Paul, and others had in mind when they were writing about the Messiah. Those great dogmas draw out the implications of what the biblical writers were talking about, but those implications aren’t what the biblical writers were talking about. When the biblical writers said christos, they meant the Messiah, the Anointed eschatological figure prophesied in Isaiah, Daniel 7, and so forth.

When we hear Messiah, we can’t help thinking of the Old Testament. But when we hear Christ, we really do tend to think instead of the Three Persons, the Two Natures, and the Virgin Birth. Just read any Orthodox commentary that might come to hand, you’ll see what I mean— not only is that the direction that the fathers take, but the editors of the commentary (the Orthodox Study Bible being one of them) don’t really even seem to be aware of this shift or treat it as being in any way significant.

So if our New Testament translations (and any new commentaries we write) are to accurately reflect what the New Testament writers were in fact occupied with, they will need to be explicit about it. David Bentley Hart uses “Anointed”, which is OK, but I don’t think it communicates the Old Testament context quite as instantly as it should. NT Wright uses Messiah, so I award him that point.

Still!— two new translations by two major scholars— exciting times for those who love the Scriptures!

The book is coming soon!

Look for The Good News as Written: Mark’s Story of Jesus— the book I’ll be releasing in the near future.

In it, I’ll provide my fresh and literal translation of Mark’s Gospel side by side with the original Greek, organized according to the structure that Mark uses to tell his story.

Recognizing that structure is half the battle, and the main work of this book (and of the Workshop) is to help you see that. For Mark’s Gospel, the structure is the vehicle of the plot, and it’s designed to help you remember and retell the story— powerfully.

I will also point to important background that Mark’s first audience would have taken for granted, but you just wouldn’t have any reason to know— recent history, cultural references, and so forth.

If you want to order a copy ahead of time, again just email me at jbb (at) jbburnett.com and I’ll let you know as soon as it’s done.