God Raised Jesus from the Dead

By whose power did Jesus rise from the dead?

A central tenet of Christianity—if not the central tenet—is the Resurrection of Jesus from the dead. But who actually did the resurrecting? Upon quick reflection of Scripture, one might immediately answer that it was God Who raised Christ from the dead (Acts 2:24; Rom 4:24, e.g.).  This is certainly true, and one could simply conclude with that answer.

Yet historic, orthodox Christianity declares Jesus to be God—as one ‘Person’ of the Holy Trinity: the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit (see Matt 28:19, e.g.).  So, do we have Scriptural evidence that Jesus raised Himself from the dead?

But this question suggests an even broader query: Did the Trinity resurrect Jesus from the dead?

As noted above, there are verses—numerous passages—naming “God” as agent in the resurrection of Jesus. In the book of Acts alone there are quite a few: 2:24, 32; 3:15; 4:10; 5:30; 10:40; 13:30, 32–33, 37. Turning to Paul’s epistles we find more: Rom 4:20; 10:9; 1 Cor 6:14, e.g.

As to the ‘Persons’ of the Trinity, Galatians 1:1 explicitly names God the Father as raising Jesus. The larger context of Ephesians 1:17–20 makes it clear that Paul refers to the Father as raising Christ. And when read in its full context (1 Thess 1:1–10), 1 Thessalonians 1:10 strongly implies that it was the Father Who resurrected Jesus.

The Holy Spirit appears a bit more difficult to establish in Christ’s raising. Romans 1:4 refers to the “Spirit of Holiness” in regards to the Resurrection. Is this the Holy Spirit? Romans 8:11 is less opaque, but perhaps not exactly crystal clear. The larger context, though, favors that the Holy Spirit is in view. The “Spirit of life” in 8:2 implies the Holy Spirit as referent. Verses 4–9 juxtapose Spirit with flesh, which then strongly implies the Holy Spirit (see Galatians 5:16–26). This segues into verse 11 in which we find “the Spirit of Him who raised Jesus…Who dwells in you”. The latter (“Who dwells in you”), when taken together with all that precedes it, firmly substantiates the Holy Spirit as referent.

Now we turn to the Son. Is there Scripture indicating Jesus raised Himself? To answer this question, a brief review of English grammar, specifically what is known as voice, might prove helpful.

English sentences are expressed as either in the active voice or the passive voice. In active voice expressions, the subject performs the action of the verb: Alfredo scored the winning goal. In passive voice expressions, the subject is the recipient of the action: The winning goal was scored by Alfredo. The focus here is on the result rather than the agent performing the action.

Now we return to the Son, Jesus Christ. In chapter 2 of John’s Gospel we find Jesus in the Temple (hieron), more specifically the outer court (John 2:14). After fashioning a make-shift whip, Jesus angrily drives out the money changers, then He scatters their coins and overturns their tables (John 2:15). In response, “the Judeans” (hoi Ioudaioi, aka “the Jews”) demand Jesus provide a sign to prove His authority to do such things (John 2:18). Jesus answers, “Demolish this Temple (naos),1 and in three days I will raise it” (John 2:19). The confused Judeans exclaim, “Forty-six years this Temple (naos) was under construction, and yet you, in three days, will raise it?!” (John 2:20). John the Gospel writer, as narrator, explains that Jesus used “Temple” (naos) to refer to His body (2:21). John further explains that when Jesus “was raised from the dead”, His disciples remembered what He had said (2:19) and believed Him (2:22).

With the narrator’s explanation, we well understand that Jesus was referring to raising Himself from the dead in 2:19. This is in the active voice, indicating Jesus as agent performing this action. In other words, the text indicates Jesus’ claim that He would be the agent in His own resurrection.

Yet, in his explanation, John uses the passive voice: Jesus “was raised from the dead”. But this only indicates that John the narrator was more interested in the fact that Jesus had arisen from the dead than in the agent doing the raising. In other words, the passive voice used here cannot be seen as in any way contradicting the active voice used earlier (2:19, 20).2 The passages can be easily harmonized. Jesus claimed He would resurrect Himself. And, in retrospect, Jesus’ disciples understood that He did indeed raise Himself on Resurrection Sunday (2:22).

This is restated later in John’s Gospel. In 10:17 Jesus says, “…I lay down My life, in order to take it up again.” He continues, “No one takes it from Me, but I lay it down on My own; I have authority to lay it down, and I have authority to take it up again (10:18).” So, Jesus not only willingly placed Himself into the murderous hands of His adversaries, He resurrected Himself from their deadly deed. Jesus, in His Deity as God the Son, raised Himself from the dead.

So, yes indeed, God raised Jesus from the dead. The Trinity—the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit—resurrected Christ.

__________________________

1 In John, the Greek hieron (see 2:14) is used here such that it refers to the outer court of the Temple, even though the term can refer to the entire Temple complex. The inner court of the Temple contains what is known as the naos, “sanctuary”, in distinction from the remainder of the complex. But sometimes the latter term is used such that naos = Temple complex, probably as synecdoche. Also, naos (and not hieron) is used figuratively in the NT to refer to the human body as the temple of God/the Holy Spirit (1Cor 6:19). Jesus plays on this ambiguity here. The Judeans repeat Jesus’ use of naos in place of hieron in their response to Him in 2:20, thereby accepting it (probably assuming synecdoche), yet they misunderstand Jesus’ intended meaning. In so doing, ironically, they miss the fact that Jesus was providing the sign they had asked for!

2 In online engagements, I personally have had interlocutors make this absurd claim. Retrospectively rephrasing the event in the passive voice hardly negates the original active voice statement!

No Pre-Tribulation Rapture

There will be no pre-tribulation ‘rapture’ (PTR) for Christians. To those who believe the ‘rapture’ will precede a lengthy tribulation period (usually understood to be seven years), I challenge you to provide full, coherent biblical support for this doctrine.

Now, of course there will be a ‘rapture’ event. The first letter to the Thessalonians makes this clear (1 Thess 4:13–17). But the text does not state that this will occur prior to some future period of (great) tribulation. On the contrary, this text implies that the ‘rapture’ will occur shortly before the very end of things:

4:13 Now brothers, we do not want you to be ignorant about those who are sleeping, so that you will not grieve as the rest—those who have no hope. 14 For since we believe Jesus died and rose again, in this way also God will bring those who have fallen asleep through Jesus along with Him [Jesus]. 15 For this we say to you, by word of the Lord: We who are alive, those remaining until the Coming [Parousia] of the Lord, will surely not precede those who have fallen asleep. 16 Because He, the Lord, will descend from heaven, with a loud command, with the voice of the archangel and the trumpet of God, and the dead in Christ shall rise first; 17 then we who are alive, those remaining, shall be caught up [harpazō, ‘raptured’] together along with them, in the clouds, to meet the Lord in the air. And so we shall be forever with the Lord.1

Let’s reason through this. Given that Paul here teaches that the resurrection of the dead in Christ will precede the ‘rapture’ of those still alive at Jesus’ Second Coming (Parousia), the logical implication is that there will be no further resurrection or ‘rapture’ of Christians to follow. In other words, we should not expect another resurrection of the dead or ‘rapture’ to come after these two events.

Yet, proponents of the pre-tribulation ‘rapture’ (PTR) doctrine2 typically understand the book of Revelation to speak of “tribulation saints”—those who come to Christian faith during the (great) tribulation, which is to follow the earlier PTR event.3 But this necessarily implies a second raising of dead “tribulation saints” and/or a second ‘rapture’ of those “tribulation saints” still alive at a ‘second’ Second Coming when the Lord comes to wage war against His adversaries (Rev 19:11–21). Scripture does not support such a thing. So then, what becomes of these “tribulation saints” under this PTR view?

Logically, it is much better to conceive the raising of the dead and the ‘rapture’ of those still alive in 1 Thess 4:13–18 as occurring after the final (great) tribulation period.  This concurs with Matthew’s recording of Jesus’ words on the Mount of Olives (Matt 24:15–31). As 24:21 states: “For then shall be great tribulation [thlipsis megalē] such as has not been from the beginning of the world until now, and not ever, no, never shall be.” Following Matthew’s further description of the great tribulation, some fantastical cosmic events (24:29) foreshadow Christ’s return

24:30 And then shall appear the sign of the Son of Man in the sky, and all the tribes/people of the earth will mourn. They will see the Son of Man coming upon the clouds of the sky with power and great glory. 31 And He will send His angels/messengers with a great trumpet, and He will gather together His elect from the four winds, from one end of the heavens to the other.”

Certainly this gathering together of “His elect” refers to the same event described in 1 Thess 4:15–17. And this all easily harmonizes with Paul’s first epistle to the Corinthians:

15:51 Take note! I tell you a mystery: Not all will sleep, but all will be changed— 52 in an instant, in the blinking of an eye, at the last trumpet. For the trumpet will sound, and the dead will be raised imperishable, and we will be changed.

All three passages—1 Thessalonians 4:15–17, Matthew 24:30–31, and 1 Corinthians 15:51–52—describe a trumpet blast in conjunction with the end times gathering of Christians. Surely, these passages are describing the same trumpet.

Applying Occam’s razor, the raising of the dead in Christ and the ‘rapture’ of those saints still alive at Jesus’ Second Coming occurs after the great tribulation. Of course, God’s children will not suffer the wrath (orgē) of God (1 Thess 5:9), as God’s enemies certainly will. But this does not mean Christians will not suffer persecution—even unto death—at the hands of God’s enemies. This was precisely the issue in the Thessalonian ekklēsia (1 Thess 4:13–15; 2 Thess 1:5–7).

“But the one who endures to the end, this one shall be saved” (Matt 24:13).

_________________________________

1 My translation, as are all here.

2 See Got Questions: When is the Rapture going to occur in relation to the Tribulation?

3 See Got Questions: What are tribulation saints?

Did the Centurion Declare Jesus ‘the Son of God’?

For the purposes of this post, we are concerned only with Matthew 27:54 (not the parallel passages in Mark 15:39 and Luke 23:47). This will limit the scope and keep this post as concise as possible.

To paraphrase the question posed in the title: Upon witnessing the events at Jesus’ crucifixion, did the centurion make a Christian proclamation? The answer hinges, in part, on how the exegete interprets the specific syntax in this verse. Word order in the Greek makes this a bit ambiguous:

θεοῦ υἱὸς ἦν οὗτος
theou huios ēn houtos
of-God Son was this

To begin the process of disambiguation (clarification), we start by finding the subject. The pronoun οὗτος, “this” is clearly the subject.1 Because it is placed after the verb (ἦν, “was”), it is emphatic: this.2 The verb ἦν, “was” is a linking verb, also known as a copular or copulative verb (CV).3

Continuing backwards, υἱός, “son” is a noun, and so it is the predicate nominative (PN). Because it is placed before the verb (PN_CV), it is emphatic: son.4 The genitive (possessive) θεοῦ, “of-God” (or “God’s”) is typically placed behind the word it modifies, yet here it precedes the noun, thus marking it emphatic: of God.5 The tentative translation, then, is “This was son of God.”

So all except the verb have emphasis! But that’s not all there is to this sentence.

When the PN precedes the CV (PN_CV) and is without the Greek article ὁ (ho),”the” (-art), this particular construction (-artPN_CV) may be functioning in one of three ways: definite (“the son of God”), indefinite (“a son of God”) or qualitative (something akin to ‘in nature son of God’). These three exegetical possibilities must be kept top of mind before interpreting further.

To assist in narrowing these three exegetical possibilities, we might consider what the centurion could have said instead.6 That is, we could investigate other possible ways of phrasing this.

Had the centurion wanted to mark this indefinite, he could have placed θεοῦ υἱὸς behind the verb (CV_PN): ἦν οὗτος θεοῦ υἱὸς.7 This would then much more likely say “This was a son of God.

Had the centurion wanted to mark this definite, he could have simply added the Greek article ὁ (+art) to υἱός (+artPN_CV), which would then unambiguously read “This was the Son of God”. Alternatively, he could have placed θεοῦ υἱὸς after the verb and added the article ὁ to υἱός (CV_+artPN).8 This would unambiguously say “This was the Son of God”.

But since the above options were not taken, we are probably on firm ground to assume “Son of God” should be understood qualitatively. This, then, would focus on Jesus’ sonship.9 However, this is rather difficult to properly translate into English.

At any rate, from there we must consider historical context. The centurion was a Greek Roman and, accordingly, steeped in the polytheism of his day. Understood through this lens, he may have meant something like: “Surely, this individual had the qualities of a son of God!”

Yet his words appear to indicate he was not only taking note of the all the events occurring but also listening to Jesus’ mockers, some of whom specifically used the phrase “the Son of God” (27:39–44).10 With all this in mind, it is certainly possible the centurion, led by the Spirit, did make a Christian proclamation. To further support this, Harner and (separately) Wallace recognize that this specific syntactical structure tends toward qualitativeness and to a lesser extent definiteness; however, some can even be qualitative with a further nuance of definiteness.11 This could possibly make the centurion’s proclamation something akin to:

“Surely, this individual had the qualities of the Son of God!”

It could even be: “Surely, this individual had the qualities of God’s Son!”

________________________________________

1 Finite verbs encode person and number and so contain a built in subject. In this case, the verb ἦν is third person singular (he, she, it), and we have the subject explicitly expressed as the demonstrative pronoun οὗτος.

2 If the subject is expressed, as here, the usual placement is before the verb; so, placing it behind the verb indicates emphasis. Cf. Donald A Hagner, Matthew 14–28, WBC, Vol. 33B (Dallas, TX: Word Books, 1995), p 848.

3 In English, “helping verbs” are sometimes used with participles in verb conjugations (“was going”, was trying”). This is not the verb’s usage here, though Greek does sometimes use such periphrastic constructions.

4  See Hagner, Matthew 14–28, p 848; cf. John Nolland, The Gospel of Matthew: A Commentary on the Greek Text, NIGTC, Accordance electronic ed. (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2005), p 1220.

5 See Hagner, Matthew 14–28, p 424. Here Hagner compares the similar syntactical structure in 14:33.

6 Or what Matthew could have recorded the centurion as saying. The exegesis here might depend on the interpreter’s specific position on Scripture. While orthodoxy requires a belief in the inspiration of Scripture (that God superintended all Scripture), the individual may be somewhere on a continuum between very rigid or more flexible on what this entails. Are these words the words of the centurion verbatim? Or might the NT writer mean to convey the basic message of the events but portray them in a particular way to bring forth a particular emphasis (e.g., Christological)? See Craig S. Keener, Christobiography: Memory, History, and the Reliability of the Gospels (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2019), esp. pp 123, 306, 350–351.

7 See Philip B. Harner, “Qualitative Anarthrous Predicate Nouns: Mark 15:39 and John 1:1” Journal of Biblical Literature 92 (1973): p 76.

8 Harner, “Qualitative Anarthrous Predicate Nouns”, pp 76–77.

9 Harner, “Qualitative Anarthrous Predicate Nouns”, pp 80–81.

10 The formulations vary a bit.

11 See Harner, “Qualitative Anarthrous Predicate Nouns”, pp 80–81, 82–83, 87. Cf. Daniel B. Wallace, Greek Grammar beyond the Basics: An Exegetical Syntax of the New Testament (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 1996), p 263, particularly Chart 27: The Semantic Range of Anarthrous Predicate Nominatives.

Book Review: 1 & 2 Thessalonians, Second Edition, WBC, by Seyoon Kim & F. F. Bruce

[Word Biblical Commentary series, David B. Capes, Ed.; 2023, Zondervan Academic, Grand Rapids, MI, 726 pages.]

Long awaited, this volume had been announced over 15 years before its publishing date! At almost 500 pages longer than F. F. Bruce’s first edition in this series, the Kim/Bruce edition is quite expansive in comparison. This extra length owes to Seyoon Kim’s engagement with a large number of works produced on Paul’s epistles to the Thessalonians since Bruce’s initial volume.

Stylistically, this work conforms to the usual WBC format—for better or worse. The series is technical, which means, in part, that the Greek is not transliterated. But each Greek clause is followed by a working English translation, thereby making it accessible to the motivated layperson or the former seminarian who has lost a bit of expertise. Pertinent text critical notes are included.

Kim claims to have retained Bruce’s Translation and Notes sections “save for some slight updates in light of the NA28” (p 15)—Bruce necessarily followed the NA26, which was the newest Critical Text at the time. But there are a few alterations to the Translation in some spots (2.1:5–10, e.g.).

The rest of this second edition is largely rewritten by Kim. The Introduction is just shy of 70 pages. The commentary proper (which includes Translation and Notes) is a whopping 561 pages, which places it on par with Weima’s BECNT volume. And, given its length, it should be no surprise that Kim’s commentary is nearly exhaustive.

Where the grammar and syntax are a bit ambiguous, Kim compares the possibilities and then explains why he prefers one over the other(s). When he engages other interpreters in a given section, he explains the pros and cons of each, and then ultimately provides his preference. I usually end up agreeing with his conclusions; but, in cases where I am unpersuaded, I can at least see his rationale behind them.

Disappointing to me, in the final clause of 2.2:7, ἐκ μέσου γένηται (“out of middle becomes”), Kim retains much of Bruce’s verbiage verbatim (p 582; cf. Bruce, p 170). I was hoping for a more comprehensive inquiry into ἐκ μέσου, both its use in extra-Biblical material and in its own context. Additionally, I wish Kim would have addressed the middle voice in γένηται and how this could impact interpretation. Moreover, I was hoping for a fresh look at 2.2:1–12. But, to be fair, these criticisms can be leveled at any of the newer commentaries in these regards.

I might have wanted a completely new volume instead of a second edition with Bruce as coauthor. My inclination is that Kim wished to honor the memory of his teacher and mentor, F. F. Bruce. I respect that.

Overall, I highly rate this commentary—probably a 4.5 out of 5 stars. Yet, while it is far more expansive than the first edition, I will keep Bruce, for there are some insights in the first edition that did not get carried over into the second (see Bruce, p 171, first paragraph, e.g.).

Wes Huff Criticized for Ignorance of 19th Century Patron Saint of KJV Advocates

As Wes Huff’s popularity increases, efforts appear to be increasing for ‘gotcha’ moments at his expense. Yet, some of those opposing Huff end up looking foolish instead. In our example below, one such individual pokes fun at Huff’s ignorance of Dean Burgon, a champion to some KJV (and/or Textus Receptus) advocates.

Anglican theologian and scholar John William Burgon became Dean of Chichester Cathedral (Sussex, England) in 1876, remaining so until his death in 1888. Burgon was known for his outspokenness against both Westcott and Hort and Codex Vaticanus (known as B or 03).

For me, it is quite understandable that Huff was unaware of Burgon. I had only heard of him through online engagement with KJV advocates over the years.

Below is the short ‘gotcha’ video:

In reading through the comments under the video, the vlogger revealed his position to be that the Textus Receptus (TR), the Greek text underlying the KJV, is the true Word of God. Therein lies the rub: Burgon advocated for the Majority Text (MT), not the TR.

Just as the name implies, the MT represents the majority of readings found in all extant manuscripts. Comparatively, while the TR aligns with the MT many times, in some cases the TR is at variance with it. In such cases, Burgon’s position is that the TR should be updated to conform to the MT.

The Achilles heel of TR advocates is what is known as the Johannine Comma (Comma Johanneum), which is not part of the MT. It is found in 1 John 5:7–8 in the KJV. Specialists almost universally deem this text unoriginal. The “comma” is reflected in the red portion below, in KJV 1611 English translation:

7 For there are three that beare record in heaven, the Father, the Word, and the Holy Ghost: and these three are one. 8 And there are three that beare witnesse in earth, the Spirit, and the Water, and the Blood, and these three agree in one.

Answering a specific question from another (nateamend7029) who commented under his video, the vlogger (receivedtext) affirms the Johannine Comma: “Yes, as a TR advocate, I accept the ‘comma’ as authentic.” But Burgon did not. In his book The Last Twelve Verses of the Gospel According to S. Mark (digital copy free online), Burgon states that the words in the Johannine Comma “are not to be regarded as genuine, the fact that they are away from almost every known Codex is accepted as a proof that they were also away from the autograph [ED: original text] of the Evangelist” (p 30 [p 15 in original]).

For the record, below is the fuller clip of Wes Huff. In it, Huff goes on to explain how the MT does not necessarily reflect the original text. A bit later, Huff is asked some specific questions related to the KJV/TR advocate position. Unsurprisingly, the first question is about the Johannine Comma (@ 21:10).

Book Review: 2 Corinthians: A Handbook on the Greek Text, by Fredrick J. Long

[Baylor Handbook on the Greek New Testament series, Martin M. Culy, Gen. Ed.; 2015, Baylor University Press, Waco, TX, 299 pages]

Fredrick J. Long’s contribution to the rightfully-lauded BHGNT series offers some unique features, beyond the standard formatting in these volumes.

Long_2Cor

Like the others in this series, Long begins the commentary proper by providing his own English translation of a subsection, which is then followed by the first full verse (or verses) of that subsection in Greek (no transliterations), which is then followed by full parsings for each word (or phrase) in that verse. This methodology continues to the next verse(s), and so forth.

Where Long differentiates his volume is that after the parsings for each individual subsection, he draws out “Emphatic and Prominent Features” from that subsection. Here he is influenced by works of Stephen H. Levinsohn, Steven E. Runge, Stanley E. Porter, and others. His initial inspiration in this regard arrived when Eugene Nida visited his campus while he was a student (p xvii). Nida’s insights encouraged Long to find and attempt to categorize various emphatic constructions. In the Introduction, the author provides some examples of emphasis and prominence, and then reveals his working methodology (pp xxiii–xliii). Long is hopeful that readers will see how the examples supplied throughout 2 Corinthians can assist in understanding “how biblical writers communicated what was most important to them” (p xliii). In other words, the student can take the knowledge gained in Long’s volume here and apply the same principles to other NT writings.

The short subsection 11:1–4 will provide a brief example (see pp 100–101). This subsection uses asyndeton (a, “not”; syn, “with”; detos, “binding” = no conjunction) to mark the new thought. Paul begins with the unusual participle Ὄφελον (“I wish”), which functions as a metacomment (a sort of preface) serving to further differentiate this section of the epistle from what immediately precedes. This participle forms part of periphrastic with ἀνείχεσθέ (2nd person plural middle indicative, “bear”, “put up”, “be patient”, “tolerate”). Paul uses a form of this same verb ἀνέχω at the end of this verse to ‘correct’ his first usage (via ἀλλά + ascensive καί = “but even/indeed”), by using its imperatival form ἀνέχεσθέ: “I wish that you would bear with me…but indeed bear with me!” In addition, ἀνέχω is used yet again in verse 4, thereby forming an inclusio, demarcating this subsection. In its final usage, the verb contrasts contextually with verse 1.

That is, in 11:1 Paul first wishes, then instructs the Corinthians to bear with him; in 11:4 Paul reproves them, since καλῶς ἀνέχεσθε, “you [the Corinthians] beautifully bear with” the false teachers! The overall sense is, ‘Put up with me since you have well been putting up with those false teachers!’ Paul uses these devices to great rhetorical effect. Long details even more ways the Apostle uses emphasis and prominence in this subsection.

The author’s very detailed outline (pp xix–xxiv) makes it easy to see the individual micro-structures within the larger whole. And it reinforces the important role emphasis and prominence play in conveying the Apostle Paul’s intents and purposes throughout this epistle.

Long’s efforts here go a long way to assist the NT student in exegeting this rather difficult epistle. Well done, I say!

(Note: While the cover and spine both read II Corinthians, the title page and the Baylor University Press listing read 2 Corinthians.)

Book Review: Wesley J. Perschbacher, The New Analytical Greek Lexicon

[Wesley J. Perschbacher, Ed. The New Analytical Greek Lexicon, 1990, Hendrickson, Peabody, MA, 495 pages]

Here is a resource for novice and seasoned Greek New Testament (GNT) students alike.

PerschbacherWhile reading your GNT, have you ever come across a word you did not recognize and could not figure out its lexical (‘dictionary’) form? In most Greek-English lexicons, the student must first determine a word’s lexical form, in order to find the word in question and its meaning. If the student is unable to determine the word’s lexical form, then s/he is at a dead end. But no such obstacle confronts those who have Perschbacher’s book within grasp. The student does not need to know the lexical form.

The New Analytical Greek Lexicon alphabetically lists every form of every word found in the GNT. And these are all parsed (e.g.: nominative plural feminine noun). Furthermore, those words that are spelled the same yet are parsed differently due to function in a particular context have separate entries. And each of these entries contains a NT reference (when examples are available). Plus, each entry has a corresponding Strong’s number. This is especially helpful for laypersons.

Perschbacher2

In the sample, note how there are two listings for ἃ. The first is for the nominative plural neuter relative pronoun. In braces { } is the NT reference Colossians 2:17. The second listing is the accusative plural neuter relative pronoun, with a reference to Colossians 2:18. To the right see ὅς, which is the lexical form (nominative singular masculine relative pronoun), followed by its Strong’s number in parentheses (3739).

This lexicon even lists word forms found only in the Textus Receptus or Majority Text.

Within the first 46 pages is an explanatory Table of Features (p ix), as well as paradigms for declensions and conjugations (pp xiii–lv). Some of the latter might be considered a bit out of step with modern scholarship. But this is a minor quibble.

The main reason to acquire this book is for its convenience in listing all forms of GNT words in alphabetical order. The student may want another, more comprehensive lexicon—one that provides more definitions and applications for a given word— to use alongside Perschbacher’s book; but, The New Analytical Greek Lexicon can certainly stand on its own.

For me, this book is 5 out of 5 stars. I bought my used copy years ago. It is the tenth printing from June 2008 with sewn binding.

Beginning Anew: Arvo Pärt’s Tabula Rasa

Time and timelessness are connected. This instant and eternity are struggling within us. And this is the cause of all our contradictions, our obstinacy, our narrow-mindedness, our faith and our grief.1

At conception, each is born into time, temporality. Each is then, from a Christian perspective, on a journey toward eternity, timelessness.2 The question is which of the two eternal destinations one will reach.

Between spiritual re-birth and physical death Christians internally battle. The Apostle Paul speaks about this (Romans 7:14–8:17; Galatians 5:16–26). And this is apparently what Arvo Pärt refers to above.

tabularasa

The above quote is from the liner notes to Pärt’s full-length album titled Tabula Rasa on ECM Records.3 The term is from the Latin, meaning “blank slate”.4 This release features one of the first performances (November, 1977) of the title track “Tabula Rasa”. Reportedly, when ECM Records label founder Manfred Eicher heard a performance of this piece on the radio while driving, he was moved to pull off the road, in order to listen to it undistracted.5 After this experience, Eicher sought out the composer—previously unknown to him at the time—resulting in the 1984 album Tabula Rasa. This release inaugurated a new series for the label, appropriately called ECM New Series.

This album release came after Pärt had undergone a compositional rebirth following a period of silent reflection. The composer called his new style tintinnabulation. And this album release coincided with a particularly productive period, in which Pärt had been composing with Scripture or liturgical texts incorporated into the music. These works include the human voice singing the texts and/or use the words as subtexts guiding the music’s notations. Yet, notably, all the pieces on Tabula Rasa are without words or subtexts underlying. However, as one writer remarks, “…even the instrumental works bear a whiff of church incense.”6

Though I cannot recall when I first bought and heard this album, I think it was around its initial release in 1984. I say that because I was particularly fond of the ECM label’s output and was collecting a large part of it. I do recall, however, the effect it had on me. I’d never heard anything like it. I was only somewhat familiar with Classical music at the time, but I knew this was something different, something special. The listening experience felt “spiritual”, though I was not a believer at the time. And it didn’t hurt that the liner notes include numerous references to Christianity—though mostly, not exclusively, to Eastern Orthodoxy (Pärt is Eastern Orthodox).

The record begins with a version of “Fratres” (“brothers”). This one is scored for violin and piano. It starts with somewhat feverish violin bowing, which gives way to very spare piano accompanied by light violin plucking. It then segues into some soft yet elegiac violin with piano punctuations. This repeats with some variations. You can hear it here.

The next piece is “Cantus in Memory of Benjamin Britten”. Pärt had been working on a not-yet-named piece when he received news of composer Britten’s death (December 4, 1976). Pärt had only recently discovered Britten’s work: “I began to appreciate the unusual purity of his music.”7 The three orchestral bells opening the piece evoke the beckoning of a church service. As the piece concludes, all instruments coalesce on “the low A minor chord”8, with the sound of the bell continuing its decay after all others have ceased (listen here).

Side one (yes, I first bought and still have the original LP) concludes with another version of “Fratres”. This one is scored for 4, 8, or 12 cellos. Here we have 12, with some light percussion. Though obviously related to the version beginning this album, this feels like a completely different work. You can read more about it and listen to this version at this link.

Next and last is the crème de la crème, the title piece. On the original LP release, it encompasses all of side two, clocking in at over 26 minutes. “Tabula Rasa” consists of two distinct movements: “Ludus” (“game” or “play”) is the first, “Silentium” (“Silence”) the second. And one is quite different from the other, providing a striking contrast. Perhaps this is to musically signify catharsis/release. The work features two solo violins, chamber orchestra, and prepared piano (to sound more percussive). Pärt’s friend, Classical composer (polystylist) Alfred Schnittke plays the prepared piano. Listen to it here in its entirety.

The piece opens with the two soloists playing in unison, but each striking and holding a different note. After a very brief silence, the chamber orchestra softly begins and the piece progresses toward a crescendo. This is followed by a decrescendo and subsequent silence. Seven variations of this theme follow before it reaches its climax. Silence follows in order to implicitly introduce the second movement.

Schnittke’s prepared piano opens “Silentium”. First violinist Gidon Kremer refers to the piece as a “declaration of silence”. It is written such that some instruments are played faster rhythmically, others slower. Somewhat paradoxically, it is the bass violin (double bass) that plays the fastest, while the first violin is slowest.9

It is the second movement that requires utmost concentration from the musician. The main focus of the piece consists in the need to listen to the silence and find its colours, delve into every single note and approach the music in a completely selfless, humble way.10

At the end of the piece, only the bass violin remains. In its solitude it grows ever quieter, acquiescing to the increasing scarcity of musical notation on the page. Until it ceases altogether. Absolute silence.

________________________________________

1 Arvo Pärt, as quoted from Wolfgang Sandner’s liner notes in Pärt’s album recording Tabula Rasa, ECM Records GmbH, ECM New Series, 1984.

2 Some, such as Aristotle, believe the eternal realm is never-ending time instead of timelessness.

3 See note 1.

4 Note that in the West, the term is mostly understood in the Aristotelian sense that the soul is born pure and empty of all experiences.

5 See Peter C. Bouteneff, Arvo Pärt: Out of Silence (Yonkers, NY: Saint Vladimir’s Seminary Press, 2015), p 45.

6 Arthur Lebow, “Arvo Pärt: The Sound of Spirit”, The New York Times Magazine, October 13, 2010, as cited in Bouteneff, Out of Silence, p 32.

7 Pärt, as quoted from Sandner’s liner notes (see note 1).

8 From the notes under “Short description” accompanying the sound link of the piece found at the close of the corresponding sentence/paragraph in the main body.

9 Taken from the “Short description” in the sound link above.

10 As quoted from the above “Short description”.

Artificial Intelligence Redux: AI Responds!

Without any prompting from me, a friend of mine queried chatGPT 4.0 regarding my recent article “Generative Artificial Intelligence for NT Greek Study?” I found the responses both fascinating and revealing. What was most interesting to me was the fact that after reading my article it still failed to acknowledge—or attempt to rebut in some manner—the etymology of Ἱεροσόλυμα (Hierosolyma), as quoted directly from BDF. I thought AI was intended to ‘learn’ new information it finds!

Positively, however, the responses did contain some useful information. Like any data, these should be tested for validity. And some of the information is indeed useful as a jumping off point for further research.

AI Provides Summary and Opinion

Following is chatGPT 4.0’s summary of my article (emphasis mine):

The article “Generative Artificial Intelligence for NT Greek Study?” explores the ethical and practical considerations of using AI in New Testament Greek studies. The author expresses skepticism about AI’s role in academia, particularly within Christian studies, and emphasizes the importance of traditional research methods for deeper understanding. The discussion centers on the Greek terms for “Jerusalem”—Ἱεροσόλυμα (Hierosolyma) and Ἰερουσαλήμ (Ierousalēm)—highlighting their etymology and grammatical distinctions. The author argues that while AI can provide quick answers, it may not be the most effective tool for comprehensive learning in this field.

This is a pretty good synopsis. Yet, given that this summary references the fact that my article discusses etymology, it is quite curious that this AI glosses right over this when my friend poses the exact question Goethe posed in his little experiment (in the last article). We will see this further below.

Next is chatGPT 4.0’s opinion of my article (emphasis mine):

The author appears to be cautiously critical of using generative AI for New Testament Greek studies, suggesting that while AI can be a helpful tool for quick and surface-level answers, it may fall short in facilitating deep, critical engagement with the text. The conclusion leans toward the idea that traditional methods—such as detailed grammatical analysis, historical context, and manual exegesis—remain superior for rigorous academic study, especially in fields where nuance and interpretative skill are key.

From my perspective, the author’s caution is reasonable, as AI currently excels in providing assistance but may not yet possess the depth or context sensitivity required for complex theological or linguistic analysis. However, it might be worth considering that AI could serve as a supplementary resource, enhancing study efficiency without replacing traditional scholarly rigor. The conclusion might benefit from acknowledging this potential middle ground, where AI acts as an aid rather than a replacement.

The first underscore in the second paragraph is a revealing admission. And, on the surface, the proposed modification for my conclusion seems not unreasonable. Yet, I’m still a bit uneasy about taking such a short cut. I think it may circumvent real learning; that is, it shortcuts the necessary preliminary research steps required to arrive at a conclusion. In other words, students may not learn how to do the necessary preliminary research when it is spoon fed to them instead. And, if relying on AI, they may not know what works AI did not consult as it worked toward its conclusions.

chatGPT 4.0 Provides Lengthy Answer to the Question Posed

Next is the meat of my friend’s query. He posed the very same question to chatGPT 4.0 that Goethe posed to other AI sources (Goethe apparently queried an earlier and/or less featured chatGPT version). The answer follows (slightly abbreviated; emphasis mine):

  1. Ἱεροσόλυμα (Hierosolyma) – Neuter Plural Form
  • Origin and Usage: This form is thought to be derived from the Hellenized version of the Hebrew or Aramaic name, often influenced by the Latin plural form “Hierosolyma.” It is neuter plural, which may reflect a collective understanding of the city, similar to a set of districts or a collection of sacred places. In Greek, the neuter plural form can imply a city comprising multiple parts (e.g., walls, quarters, or districts).
  • Classical and Secular Contexts: The plural form Ἱεροσόλυμα is more commonly found in classical Greek and Roman texts, where it may reflect a more Hellenistic, geographical, or administrative view of the city. It is often used in historical, secular, or political contexts (e.g., by historians like Josephus).
  • Emphasis on Physical Location: The use of this term often emphasizes the city as a physical place or political entity, rather than its religious significance.
  1. Ἰερουσαλήμ (Ierousalēm) – Feminine Singular Form
  • Origin and Usage: This form more closely resembles the Hebrew (יְרוּשָׁלַיִם‎) and Aramaic names for the city. It is indeclinable, meaning it does not change form based on case, which aligns with the way foreign names are often treated in Greek. The feminine singular form reflects the city as a single, unified entity.
  • Religious and Scriptural Contexts: The term Ἰερουσαλήμ is more frequently used in religious contexts, especially in the Greek Septuagint (LXX) and the New Testament. This form conveys a sense of the holy city in a theological or spiritual sense. It is often chosen when emphasizing the city’s religious significance or its central role in salvation history.
  • Symbolic or Spiritual Emphasis: Using Ἰερουσαλήμ tends to invoke the spiritual and cultural significance of the city, rather than merely its geographic location.

Conclusion

The choice between Ἱεροσόλυμα and Ἰερουσαλήμ often depends on the context in which the word is used. Authors writing with a Hellenistic or Roman perspective, focusing on the city’s political or geographical aspects, tend to use Ἱεροσόλυμα. In contrast, those writing with a Jewish or Christian theological perspective, focusing on the spiritual or scriptural importance of the city, tend to use Ἰερουσαλήμ.

This distinction highlights how language can reflect different perceptions of a place, influenced by cultural, religious, and historical factors.

The underscore below the “Origin and Usage” section  for the neuter plural form is an incomplete sentence as it is. The bolded portion makes no sense. The word is either influenced by the Latin or it is not influenced by the Latin. It cannot be “often influenced”. Now, I suppose this could be an ellipsis, such that it should be understood as “often [thought to be] influenced”. But, even assuming so, this is very clumsy.

Yet, I challenge that the creation of Ἱεροσόλυμα (Hierosolyma) had anything to do with the Latin. As noted in BDF (in the previous article), the word is a compound consisting of ἱερός (hieros: holy or holy thing) and Σόλυμοι (Solymoi: “a people situated between Lycia and Pamphylia”). Its Latin transliteration (which is the same as English transliteration) is letter-by-letter directly from the Greek, so it seems dubious to claim the Greek was somehow influenced by the Latin. More likely, in this case, it is the opposite.

chatGPT 4.0 Responds to My Challenge to Its Answer

With this in mind, I then asked my friend to ask chatGPT 4.0 to substantiate this claim. Below is the response:

The suggestion that Ἱεροσόλυμα (Hierosolyma) might be influenced by the Latin plural form “Hierosolyma” comes from the historical interaction between Greek and Latin during the Hellenistic and Roman periods. However, the origin of Ἱεροσόλυμα as a neuter plural form in Greek is not solely due to Latin influence; it is primarily rooted in how the Greeks adapted certain foreign place names, particularly those with Semitic origins.

Clarifying the Greek Form: Ἱεροσόλυμα (Hierosolyma)

  • The form Ἱεροσόλυμα is a Greek adaptation of the Semitic name Yerushalayim (יְרוּשָׁלַיִם‎), which itself is a dual form in Hebrew. The Greek speakers likely interpreted the Semitic dual ending as implying plurality, leading to the neuter plural form Ἱεροσόλυμα. The Greeks often used neuter plural forms for city names that seemed plural or were associated with a collection of parts (e.g., Μεγάλα Θεσσαλονίκη for Thessalonica or Πέργαμα for Pergamon).
  • Hellenistic Influence: In the Hellenistic period, Greek was the dominant language of administration and culture across the Eastern Mediterranean. The adoption of Ἱεροσόλυμα reflects the typical Greek practice of pluralizing place names, especially those derived from Semitic languages.

Why Mention Latin Influence?

  • In Latin, the name “Hierosolyma” was also adopted as a plural form, influenced by the Greek Ἱεροσόλυμα. However, in some cases, scholars argue that the widespread Roman usage of the plural form may have reinforced or popularized the plural understanding of the city’s name, especially in regions where Latin and Greek interacted closely (e.g., the Eastern Roman Empire).
  • The Latin plural form Hierosolyma does not directly originate the Greek form but likely mutually reinforced the plural interpretation, particularly in later Roman texts where Latin and Greek coexisted. This might be why the plural form appears consistent across both Greek and Latin texts from the Roman era.

Conclusion

The plural form Ἱεροσόλυμα is fundamentally a Greek adaptation of a Semitic name, with the interpretation of a plural or collective entity. The mention of Latin influence is secondary, pointing to a potential reinforcement rather than the primary cause of the Greek plural form. The interaction between Latin and Greek cultures, especially in the Roman Empire, might have solidified this naming convention, but it did not originate it.

I might call this response ‘fancy footwork’, though we might think of a more crass colloquialism (usually shortened into two letters). In that sense, this sounds more human. It is as if the author was trying to ‘save face’ with its response. I ain’t buyin’ it. I will agree with this portion of the conclusion: It is “fundamentally a Greek adaptation of a Semitic name”.

But more to the point, as noted further above, chatGPT 4.0 makes no attempt to engage with the etymology as found in BDF and cited in my article. By this time chatGPT 4.0 had read the article—it summarized the article, provided an opinion of it, specifically answered the question posed within it, and, finally, responded to my question doubting its stance regarding the Latin. Why didn’t it pick up the word’s etymology?

The answer above also notes that the Hebrew Yerushalayim (יְרוּשָׁלַיִם‎) is a dual form. This is typically used for natural pairs such as eyes, ears, hands (thanks Mandy!); so, it’s rather curious that “Jerusalem” is an apparent dual. There are lots of hypotheses as to why, but no scholarly consensus. In any case, the claim above that the Greeks “likely interpreted the Semitic dual ending as implying plurality, leading to the neuter plural form Ἱεροσόλυμα” appears to be a non sequitur. We note that the Hebrew of “Sodom” (סְדֹּם) is not a dual form, yet the Greek Σόδομα (Sodoma) is a neuter plural. So, the use of the neuter plural in translation appears to be a common practice, having nothing to do with the Semitic dual form. (And I see that Μεγάλα Θεσσαλονίκη is not correlative, for Μεγάλα is plural, while Θεσσαλονίκη is singular.) Sorry, chatGPT 4.0.

Positive Aspects of chatGPT 4.0’s Responses

Yet, as I noted at the very beginning, there are some positives to using chatGPT 4.0 in this case. There appears to be at least some validity to its claims regarding the different usages of the Greek spellings for “Jerusalem”. The neuter plural is used primarily in secular, historical, and non-religious settings, mostly referencing the city as a physical place. The feminine singular is applied to contexts involving the city’s religious significance. Yet, one must check each individual Biblical author to verify such distinctions.

Matthew’s Gospel uses the neuter plural Ἱεροσόλυμα (Hierosolyma) almost exclusively. The lone exception is found in 23:37. Here the double (vocative) Ἰερουσαλήμ, Ἰερουσαλήμ (Ierousalēm) is on Jesus’ lips. Our Messiah applies this term (“O Jerusalem, Jerusalem”) as a metonym, most likely referring to the Jewish religious leadership collectively—or perhaps the Jewish nation and people as a whole.

The Gospel of John solely uses the neuter plural. In each and every instance the term refers to location. It is most often found in prepositional phrases (prefaced by in, to, or from), though in one case, it is preceded by “near” instead.

On the other hand, the book of Revelation exclusively uses the feminine singular term, and this solely refers to the New Jerusalem all three occurrences (3:12; 21:2, 10).

So, this information proves helpful.

Conclusion

Given all the above, my stance as stated in the previous post remains. I will quote chatGPT 4.0’s own caveat as it was stated in its opinion of that post: AI currently excels in providing assistance but may not yet possess the depth or context sensitivity required for complex theological or linguistic analysis. And that “assistance” should be fully vetted before adopting any of it.

Generative Artificial Intelligence for NT Greek Study?

For ethical reasons, I have some serious qualms about using Artificial Intelligence (AI) in academia—especially in Christian studies. (But, as a skeptic by nature, I must admit I’m also a late adopter of any new technology.)

AI is an area I thought I would never even write about. But the Saturday 11/2/2024 edition of the Daily Dose of Group (DDoG) did a short segment on it.

I figured I would simply skim through the vlog before deleting the email (I’m subscribed to DDoG). Instead I was drawn into it within the first few seconds. Retired missionary to Japan Bob Goethe relayed a question that was posed to him:

Why is the English word ‘Jerusalem’ sometimes expressed by the plural neuter Greek word Ἱεροσόλυμα [Hierosolyma], and other times by the indeclinable feminine singular Ἰερουσαλήμ [Ierousalēm]?1

This question piqued my interest because I had just recently come across the neuter plural form Ἱεροσόλυμα in John 5:1 as part of my research for the previous post “Jesus’ Second Sign”.

Goethe then queries a number of AI sites with varying results, and he provides his own ranking system based on these experiences.

Well, I suppose AI could be used to obtain a quick answer—as long as the intent is not to use the results for school or research work. And Goethe’s intent seems to be to simply obtain a quick answer, and, assuming so, no harm, no foul.

Yet, given the context of this video—including Goethe’s familiarity with the Greek—I question if AI is the right avenue for this particular question in the first place. Moreover, I contend that if you really want to know the answer to a question, researching on your own is the best way to retain the information.

The student can begin by reasoning through the evidence. The answer to the second part of the question (and other times by…) is straightforward. Just like “Jerusalem” is the English transliteration of the Hebrew ירושלים (taking the Hebrew letters and exchanging them for corresponding English equivalents), the Greek Ἰερουσαλήμ is the transliteration of the Hebrew. Thus, the derivation of the feminine singular Ἰερουσαλήμ (Ierousalēm) is no mystery. The resulting spelling in Greek makes it feminine in grammatical gender, which is nothing out of the ordinary. “Galatia”, Γαλατία is also feminine, while “Phoenix”, Φοϊνιξ (Acts 27:12) is masculine. Grammatical gender is conditioned by the spelling of the word.

But a letter-by-letter transliteration of a word for a foreign city can render the resulting Greek word an indeclinable proper noun. That is, the word cannot be changed into an accusative, a dative, or a genitive form, in order to match its function within a sentence. This is contrary to the usual practice for native Greek words. And this is the case with Ἰερουσαλήμ. So, one can imagine the desire to create a new word for “Jerusalem” such that it would conform to Greek language norms.

This brings us to the first part of the question above, which is the real question here. Why is there an alternate spelling; and why is it the neuter plural Ἱεροσόλυμα (Hierosolyma)? As noted just above, one advantage is that this word is declinable. Yet we must ponder whether there was some sort of underlying methodology in its creation, thus providing a road map to the result.

Before delving into any sort of in-depth research, I note that the first five letters of this alternative word spell ἱερός (instead of ἰερόυς- in the transliteration), which means holy or holy thing. More common in the NT is ἱερόν, which means sanctuary, temple. Relatedly, ἱερύς is the term for priest. This word occurs more frequently in the NT in the compound ἀρχιερύς, meaning high priest. Might all or any of this be a clue to the origination, the etymology of Ἱεροσόλυμα?

Returning to the video for the moment, Goethe’s AI search returns a result claiming this alternative spelling is a Hellenized version of the Semitic word. And a comment (by guyplatts679) under the vlog above quotes from Logos Bible Software’s new version with AI, which states something similar: The form Ἱεροσόλυμα is a Hellenized version with a Greek termination and etymology, following a precedent established in early Greek literature for adapting foreign names.

Yet these things can be found without using AI, by starting with the excellent resource Goethe holds in his hand in the vlog’s thumbnail. I’m referring, of course, to the BDAG Greek-English Lexicon,2 a resource essential for Greek language studies. The BDAG entry Ἱεροσόλυμα references “B-D-F § 39, 1” and “B-D-F §56, 1 and 4”. “B-D-F” is shorthand for Blass, Debrunner, Funk, A Greek Grammar of the New Testament and Other Early Christian Literature.3 Beginning with BDF §56.1 we find:

Ἱεροσόλυμα is strongly Hellenized by assimilation to ἱερός and Σόλυμοι…(as early as Polybius)…Names in -α (whether the  -α is Semitic or Greek) usually fluctuate between indeclinable usage and declension.4

So the hunch above regarding ἱερός (holy or holy thing) proves correct. Σόλυμοι (plural) is defined as “a people situated between Lycia and Pamphylia” by the Liddell, Scott and Johnson lexicon (see hyperlink). This Hellenized word allows for declension; for example, Mark 7:1 uses the genitive form Ἱεροσολύμων.

Strangely, an internet search found that both Lycia and Pamphylia were located in Asia Minor—across the Mediterranean Sea from Jerusalem. So there must have been some other reason for the use of Σόλυμοι. And it remains unclear why a plural was used.

Regarding the other BDF references above, §56.4 calls out odd NT grammatical combinations using the word, and §39.1 relates to different ways Hebrew characters are transliterated or rendered. §56.1 also details NT writers’ preference for one rendering for “Jerusalem” over the other. And, tangentially, §38 adds some comments regarding the final –α, and how it could be either Greek in origin in order to assist with pronunciation or it might have been used to “preserve a Semitic final consonant”.5

In any event, BDF appears to have provided all the information the AI searches returned, plus some. Maybe we should stick with ‘old school’ methods for now—or from now on.

[See follow up “Artificial Intelligence Redux: AI Responds!“]

_____________________________________

1 Note that the English transliteration for Ἱεροσόλυμα begins with an ‘H’, while Ἰερουσαλήμ does not. The former has a rough breathing mark above (in front of) the iota (Ἱ), thereby signaling that an ‘H’ sound should begin the word’s pronunciation. By contrast, the latter (Ἰερουσαλήμ) has a smooth breathing mark, signaling to pronounce as is, without an ‘H’ sound.

2 BDAG is shorthand for W. Bauer, F. W. Danker, W. T. Arndt, and F. W. Gingrich, A Greek-English Lexicon of the New Testament and Other Early Christian Literature, 3rd. ed. (Chicago, IL: Chicago, 2000).

3 F. W. Blass and A. Debrunner, A Greek Grammar of the New Testament and Other Early Christian Literature, tr. and rev. R. W. Funk (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1961). Hereafter simply BDF.

4 BDF §56.1, p 31.

5 BDF §38, p 21.

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