In Greek, Hebrew and the Joy of S-x, I claimed that Biblical language instruction courses are “bad. So painful. So achingly boring.” And called Greek students “masochistic morons mumbling masoretic mantras.” (Technically, “Masoretic” would be Hebrew students, but in this instance alliteration trumps accuracy.)

Why the vehemence? It’s simply this: Biblical Greek instruction forever scars anyone exposed to it. The end result of studying Biblical languages should be an appreciation for the unique qualities of those languages and an ability to study them to our benefit. But instead, students are mired down from the very start in things like “the movable nu” and a bewildering terminology for talking about Koine that is itself a foreign language.

Students are permanently scarred by Greek study in one of two ways. The first group endures the rite of passage and vows never to go through it again while simultaneously feeling a lasting sense of shame and inferiority because they couldn’t hack it. The second group actually thrives under the Greek instruction. They enjoy memorizing all the different forms and vocabulary. But their scar is more subtle. They become convinced that being able to parse a Greek verb equates with understanding the Bible in Greek. I admire the brilliant minds that gravitate in this direction. There are three people I consider my Greek mentors, one of them a grandmother. Their love of the language inspires me to endure the pain of parsing.

But understanding a language doesn’t mean you understand the message. This happens to me all the time in Mozambique. Someone is talking to me in Portuguese or Nyungwe or even English. I understand every word he is saying. But I don’t have a clue what he’s talking about. There’s some missing bit of information that I don’t have access to. Almost every time it is some cultural context that isn’t available to me as an outsider. Reading the Bible is like that. You can understand every word and still not get it. Trouble is we never read a passage and say, “I don’t get it.” Our minds are very tricky in this regard. They insist on comprehension. So we always think we understand what it says.

Students of the Bible would benefit more by studying New Testament culture than Greek grammar. Michael Kruse is doing an outstanding job discussing New Testament culture and the Roman concept of family. His posts on Kruse Kronicle are really helping me to appreciate the Epistles. The context of a statement in the Scriptures is almost always implicit. We should use the “plain meaning of the text” not to step forward toward a present-day application, but to step back and say, “Based on this it seems Paul is addressing this problem…” Then we can move forward to application.

Last week, I thought I’d start working through 1 Timothy in Greek to freshen up my parsing skills. It was fascinating. I dove into the word ἐπιταγή. Wouldn’t it be better to translate it here as authority? And why is σωτῆρος ἡμῶν anarthous but τῆς ἐλπίδος ἡμῶν articular? All this in the very first verse of the book! But here’s the catch: As rewarding as this study is, it has very little bearing on the spiritual and practical impact of this book. When we study the original language our tendency is to get bogged down in details and miss the point of the passage which is almost always found in larger chunks of discourse. Read an idiomatically translated version of 1 Timothy and the natural flow of the language will help you focus on the forest rather than the trees. For that reason, even though when studying I read Greek and translations that emphasize form, for my devotions I use Contemporary English Version.

I’m one of those freakish people that believes you don’t need Greek to understand the Bible. Thanks to many scholars and translators and centuries of study I have the benefit of the Bible translated into my language. But a Bible translation is not just a translation of the Word of God. A Bible translation is the Word of God. Only when the Scriptures have been rendered in my own language can I understand their message. Going back to the Greek can actually be a step backwards in understanding, giving more misunderstanding than insight.