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Exegetical Theology: Bible Translation, Part 1—What Kind of Bible is This?
When the NIV 2011 came out, WELS pastors and members suddenly found themselves wrestling with the question of which translation we should use. Luther was quoted by pastors for opposite approaches. We had to learn (and even unlearn) terminology.
Initially, most WELS pastors were probably comfortable speaking of “literal” and “free” translations. But as the discussion progressed, two technical terms moved to the forefront: formal and functional equivalence. Formal equivalence was viewed as an improvement over literal, and functional equivalence over free. But two linguistic terms might be even more useful: source- and target-oriented. The source text is the document in the original language and the target text is the translation. A translation is more concerned either with revealing the original text (source-oriented) or about communicating in the new language (target-oriented).
In 1813 the German philosopher Friedrich Schleiermacher summed up the difference: “Either the translator leaves the writer as far as possible in peace and moves the reader towards him; or else he leaves the reader as far as possible in peace and moves the writer towards him.”[i]
Very few translations come down “as far as possible” in one direction or the other. Most Bibles will fall on a continuum between the extremes. Do the extremes even exist? The most extreme source-oriented translation is probably an interlinear. But there are other versions on the market that approach that kind of deference to the Greek or Hebrew. On the target-oriented extreme would be paraphrases. Some writers consider hymns based on psalms to be translations. There are a number of niche translations that attempt to recreate the message of Scripture in terms that select groups will understand.
Most mainstream English Bibles fall closer to the middle. Usually, you can determine which side of the middle they fall on, and some are farther out than others. But they are generally produced by people who are operating with the two poles more or less in tension.
Which is to say that no Bible translation consistently applies either philosophy. Simply plotting where a translation falls on the continuum will not reliably predict how any specific verse is translated. Even so, translation committees try to define a position on (or even off) that continuum which they believe presents the best approach, at least for the audience they’re trying to reach and the purpose for their translation.
That might give us a more meaningful way of evaluating translations. You can certainly examine how consistent they are in their approach and state whether you agree with their approach and why. But you might learn more by finding out why this particular group thought a new translation was necessary. Who were they trying to reach? What need in the church were they trying to fill? What kinds of choices did that lead them to make? In the end, that will probably tell us as much about the relative usefulness of that translation as the discussion of source or target orientation.
[i] John Barton, The Word: How We Translate the Bible and Why it Matters (New York: Basic Books, 2023), 34.
Rev. Geoff Kieta serves as pastor of St. Paul’s Lutheran in Menomonie, WI. He is a member of the WELS Translation Liaison Committee.
Systematic Theology: The Appeal of Calvinism and Arminianism
Why would someone want to be a Calvinist? Why would someone want to be an Arminian?
It’s easy to put the “worst possible construction” on Calvinism and Arminianism, and say, for example, that Calvinists are motivated by a desire for their theological system to be logically coherent—and some of this inclination can definitely be observed within many Calvinists. Or to say that Arminians are motivated by a desire to take credit for some aspect of their salvation—and some of this inclination can definitely be observed within many Arminians.
But it’s easier to understand and dialogue with Calvinists and Arminians when we can charitably recognize the good thing within God’s Word that they each seek to retain—even if in misguided zeal they forfeit something else good within God’s Word in the process. It’s also prudent to avoid caricatures that unfairly malign all Calvinists and Arminians—and even Calvin and Arminius themselves—with the crassest forms these movements have taken.
Calvin did not actually teach “limited atonement.” Limited atonement was an innovation of Beza, who was extrapolating from Calvin’s teaching of double predestination while debating Andreae. And Arminius did not actually teach “decision theology”—he explicitly denied that man had the ability to move toward God. What he actually taught was that when God’s grace comes to a person, the person who yields instead of resisting is saved.
Now, those are still clear errors within the teaching of Calvin and Arminius, errors which compounded into even larger errors in their followers. But the problems with Calvin’s and Arminius’s theology were more subtle, and we can more easily grapple with the underlying errors in these theological systems by recognizing their positive concerns.
Calvin, and the better of the Calvinists after him, were concerned to defend God’s sovereignty—and everything this means for us. If God could sincerely desire the salvation of all people and yet not save all people, then what good—they conclude—would God and his will to save us be? If God’s will to save us could not seal the deal, then some part of our salvation—they assume—would have to depend on us and not God. Calvinists after Calvin have applied the same logic to Christ’s death. If Jesus made atonement for all people and yet not all people were saved by it, then what good—they conclude—would his death for us be? If Christ’s death for us could not seal the deal, then—they assume—we would have to add something to Jesus’s death for it to be enough to save us. In short, Calvinism wrongly forfeits the universal scope of God’s saving will and of Christ’s atoning death, but the good motive we can acknowledge within Calvinism is a desire to uphold God’s sovereignty and the effectiveness of God’s election and of Christ’s atonement.
Arminius, and the better of the Arminians after him, were concerned to defend God’s goodness—and everything this means for us. God does sincerely desire the salvation of all people, and accordingly Jesus did make atonement for all people with his death. To the Arminian, God hasn’t just picked winners and losers, but provides grace freely to all, which people either yield to or reject. In short, Arminianism wrongly forfeits the effectiveness of election and of the atonement, but the good motive we can acknowledge within Arminianism is a desire to uphold God’s goodness and the universal scope of God’s desire to save and of the atonement.
Rev. Dr. Aaron Jensen serves as pastor of St. Peter’s Lutheran in Monticello, MN.
Historical Theology: Learning from the Church Fathers—Ignatius of Antioch
In the ninth year of his reign (ca. AD 105), Emperor Trajan commanded that Christians sacrifice to idols or face execution. Ignatius, the bishop of Antioch, refused. The emperor asked, “Who are you, you evil demon, who so zealously breaks our commands?” Ignatius replied, “No one ought to call Theophorus evil.” “Who is Theophorus?” the emperor answered. Ignatius said, “He who has Christ in his breast.”[1]
What was the result of this exchange? Death by beasts. But how was Ignatius able to make such a powerful confession? Ignatius knew that he, like all other Christians, was Theophorus, the “God-bearer.” Christ, who lived in Ignatius by faith, had a profound impact on Ignatius’s identity. So in every letter which Ignatius wrote while being dragged off to Rome for execution, he called himself Theophorus, and he willingly faced martyrdom because he knew he was Theophorus.
Does the pen name of a two-thousand-year-old church father matter for Christians today? Absolutely. Ignatius shows us how to use “Christ in me” language to apply the “Christ for me” gospel to comfort those who are lost, suffering, and dying.
Identity: So many people in our world struggle with identity. “Who am I?” “Why am I here?” Make use of this powerful truth. A Christian’s identity is Theophorus. Tell a fellow Christian: “Christ lives in your heart. You are a child of God, a God-bearer. That’s who you are by faith. This identity has been given to you from God as a sure foundation.”
Suffering: Depression. Anxiety. Cancer. Death. Wars. Suffering is the rule, not the exception. But Christians can embrace and rejoice in suffering. Why? We are Theophorus, God-bearers. God promises to be with us and work all things for our good, even in the valley of death and shadow.
Death: No one is ever ready for death. Its icy touch grips our hearts with fear. Staring at death, Ignatius wrote, “Permit me to be an imitator of the passion of my God. If anyone has Him within himself, let him consider what I desire.”[2] Ignatius found strength in his identity: Christ lived in his heart. He would imitate Christ—in dying and in rising. Use this truth to minister to those who are dying. Death is a sad reality. Christ died, and we follow Christ into death. But what else is true? Christ rose, and we follow Christ into resurrection. Because he now lives in us by faith, we too will rise.
This article is a condensed form of part of a chapter found in The Illumination of History: A Festschrift in Honor of Glen L. Thompson.
[1] Roberts and Donaldson, Mart. Ign. 2.
[2] Ignatius, Rom. 6.
Rev. Orie Thomford serves as pastor of Our Savior Lutheran in Burlington, IA.
Practical Theology: The Greatness of the Greet
It is a privilege to get to know the brothers and sisters in Christ within the congregation. We want to serve God’s people, the sheep of his flock, more closely and intimately. During the week there are the chance run-ins at the gas station, the restaurant, or the game. These are nice points of contact, but they are usually short interactions. I think it is still true that very few things beat the time spent chatting in their living room or at their kitchen table. A lot of trust is built just by crossing the threshold of their front door and spending some time just with them.
But most members we simply don’t have the chance to connect with during the week. Sunday morning is the biggest opportunity we have. We are connected to each other as together we connect with God and his Word spoken, sung, and prayed, with Jesus’s body and blood in the Sacrament, and as often as it presents, through the water of Baptism. This is the highlight we all need.
There is another opportunity for connection I’ve come to cherish—the half hour before the service starts when people start filing into the narthex and the church.
I’ve found that as I walk down the aisles and even sit down in the pew next to a person who is early for worship I have a great opportunity to check in on how they are doing. I was very surprised to find out news that weighed heavy on their heart, or prayer requests they hadn’t sought me out for, but now they felt they could share because I was right in front of them or right beside them. Sometimes they ask for a visit or a good time for them to stop in to the office, and an opportunity to counsel or encourage is set up.
For guests, it is a natural opportunity to greet them and ask their names and what brought them. A piece of paper and pen in the pocket, or a note on the smartphone as I walk away, helps me to collect the names and information that I know soon leaves my head when I see the next face.
Now I hear that members “were hoping I’d stop by their pew” so they could share some news or introduce their neighbor or relative that they brought with them. Members have emailed ahead of time to ask me to stop by their pew when greeting because they’ve invited a friend and want to introduce them. Sometimes the greeting is a simple hello.
Sometimes it’s a prayer in the pew with them before worship. Sometimes it’s a joke about the upcoming game. “The Greet” before service is a simple point of connection with many of God’s people. Our organists are even used to it and when we lose track of time they have been helpful. When it is service time, they simply stop playing, and the ringing bells are our cue to walk up and begin the service.
[1] A somewhat decent guide on using things like straw polls can be found in “Vital Merger” by Dirk Elliot, 2013, Fun and Done press.
Rev. Nate Scharf serves as pastor of St. Paul’s Lutheran in New Ulm, MN.