I'm reading a collection of essays by Daniel Berkeley Updike (1860-1941). Updike was a New Englander and a typographer. His essays are published in a book called The Well-Made Book: Essays & Lectures by Daniel Berkeley Updike.

Today I read the essay titled “The Place of the Educated Man in the Printing Industry”. Updike's conclusion is, basically, that if any properly educated man is willing to go through the mechanical training necessary to become a typographer/printer, then that man belongs in the printing industry.

In explaining this, Updike has the following passage:

Perhaps for the educated man this form of livelihood [printing] must choose him — he must as a revivalist would say, “feel the Call.” Otherwise it is a dubious adventure, all the more if one is not obliged to undertake it. Poussin was once asked by a young Italian nobleman, who painted but fairly well, what was the chief thing needed to assure his success. Poussin replied, “The necessity to do it.” Compulsions are a great help in work and for those who are not prodded by necessity, something must be found to take its place. That something is a compelling desire to do a particular thing. (Updike, 61)

Updike goes on to apply this idea of compulsion to the printing industry, noting that it is only through the work of compelled, scholarly and educated men that the state of printing progressed to where it is.

But Poussin's words are generally applicable. Stop and think: what are you compelled to do? It doesn't need to be profitable; it doesn't need to be directly applicable to an occupation or field of study. But you do need to find it, or you do need to find evidence of it. It behooves us to consider these sorts of things as we spend our short (and getting shorter) time on this earth, before our Lord and Savior takes us home.

On a side note: I think this applies tangentially to what I wrote earlier about gaining proficiency in NT Greek. There are those who want to learn Greek because they like the idea of knowing NT Greek; of being an authority of sorts. Then there are others who are compelled to learn NT Greek. The drudgery of review and reading, while not exciting, is something they are compelled to do simply because they have an insatiable desire to study such things. Admittedly, I'm closer to the former than the latter in this area.

Update: My friend John posts some follow-up thoughts on the topic of compulsion. Give 'im a read and see if it stimulates some thinkin'.

If you haven't picked up that I've got a place of esteem set aside for the writings of the Apostolic Fathers, you haven't been reading this blog too long.

For some reason — I'm not sure why, or where it came from — I do. And the Epistle to Diognetus is one of my favorites.

In an effort to be somewhat disciplined about blogging, I've decided to use the Epistle to Diognetus as blog fodder. That's right, when I can't think of anything else, I'll just dig into Diognetus (which is a short letter) and make some brief and entirely far-too-superficial comments.

I'll start tonight with a short introduction, listing a scant bit of info about the letter, date, author, and editions. I'll start with editions.

Diognetus is available in a few different editions of the collected writings of the Apostolic Fathers:

• Ehrman, Bart D. The Apostolic Fathers (2 Volumes). Harvard University Press: Cambridge, 2003. (more info: vol 1, vol 2). Diognetus is in vol. 2.
• Holmes, Michael. The Apostolic Fathers: Greek Texts and English Translations (Revised Edition). Grand Rapids: Baker Book House, 1999. (more info)
• Lake, Kirsopp. The Apostolic Fathers (2 Volumes). Harvard University Press: Cambridge, 1912. (more info). Diognetus is in vol. 2.

The Holmes edition is an update of the J.B. Lightfoot's classic edition of the Apostolic Fathers. It is easy to find the English of Lightfoot's translation online.

A gent called Henry Meecham put out what is perhaps the most recent critical edition of the epistle in English in 1949.

• Meecham, Henry G. The Epistle to Diognetus: The Greek Text with Introduction, Translation, and Notes. Manchester University Press: Manchester, 1949.

My acquisition of this particular title is one of my most harrowing book-finding experiences.

I like the Ehrman version best, though Meecham is a close second. I typically consult Meecham as he's got commentary-style notes which come in quite handy. Ehrman reads better, though.

Integrity

The book is 12 chapters, but most (if not all) scholars assume that chapters 11 and 12 are a later addition of some sort, that they weren't in the original. The MSS actually indicates a break at the end of chapter 10.

Authorship

Authorship is anonymous and unknown. “Mathetes”, which sometimes seen in the title of the epistle, is simply a transliteration of the term “disciple” and not a claim of authorship. There are several authors that have been suggested, but it's all conjecture. One of my favorites is that the epistle is an exercise of a school-boy who is practicing his rhetoric; but this is exceedingly unlikely.

Date

Here's what Meecham says about date:

The very universality of thought and tone makes it hard to fix the period of the epistle. Westcott would place it as early as AD 117. If that is too early, Overbeck's post-Constantinian date and J.M. Cotterill's fantastic theory of an eighth- or ninth-century composition are patently far too late. Otto and Bunsen place it about AD 135; Ewald between AD 120-130. ... [some other dudes posit anywhere from 170-310] ... Lightfoot, Bardenhewer, and Krueger favour about AD 150. (Meecham 19-20).

Ehrman dates “during the second half of the second century, possibly closer to the beginning than the end of that period.” So 150-200, and more likely close to 150. (Ehrman 127).

Contents

Basically, the epistle is apologetic. The author sets out to convince Diognetus that Christianity is right, and Greek paganism is wrong.

Yes, that's oversimplified. But you didn't expect me to spill the beans in a few short sentences, did you?

You can always read it yourself first. There are 12 chapters. Here's the first (Lightfoot's English): EpDiog 1. Or you could go to Early Christian Writings and find a few editions to poke through.

I'm not the best one to be commenting on gaining proficiency with languages. My native language is, of course, English. I had two years of Spanish language instruction in high school that has, amazingly, stuck to some degree. The classes took the immersion approach, from day one, and I think that has a lot to do with it. But I certainly wouldn't call myself “proficient”.

In my senior year of college I took a year of Classical Greek. My professor, Dr. Charles Hill (currently at RTS in Orlando), was an excellent teacher and the class was well worth the work it required. I foolishly audited the class the first semester as it was an elective and I didn't want it to affect my grade point adversely — but I got an 'A' that semester, so the joke was on me. I took it for credit the second semester.

Anyway, this post was supposed to be about language proficiency, not my academic history. I am horrible with the mechanics of language, English included. My knowledge of English grammar and syntax is fairly limited. I tend to simply throw caution to the wind and go with what sounds good to me. As a somewhat voracious reader of non-fiction (can one really be “somewhat” voracious?) I'm served well by this method. I have a decent base to draw from when I actually do write things, be they blog posts, email, essays or other items.

And that's my point as regards gaining proficiency with language. But first, an aside. This is relevant to the topic, really. Trust me.

I was at my neighbor's house for dinner last night. My neighbor George has built this massive structure that produces some of the best-tasting slow-cooked meat I've ever had in my life. George and his family lived in Argentina for years, and became aquainted with the Argentinian custom of the Asado. This is where someone invites a number of friends over, puts all sorts of meats on the grill (mmmmmmm ... chorípan!) and folks just hang out, talk about whatever, and simply enjoy the time with one another. You eat an appetizer (chorípan, which is pieces of sausage (chorízo) served on bread (pan)), drink some red wine, and have a meal. Then talk some more and have some more wine. Then dessert. This is a wonderful thing — incredibly similar to the South African practice of the braai. I'll save writing about my love of the braai for a later post, though. This one is about language. Remember?

So, I was at my neighbor's house on Saturday night for an asado. George & Randi put out an excellent spread, as usual. It was a good evening. One of the other people there was a fifth-year senior at the local university (Western Washington University) who is on the cusp of completing her studies. Her major is German. Of course, this became a subject of conversation. When asked about future plans, she admitted that she really didn't know what she would do next. She mentioned pursuing professional translation as an option. But as she did, she also noted that she would have to choose a particular type of translation to pursue, as the vocabularies for different areas (think literature, or business, or politics, or scientific/technical) are rather specialized. She noted that she would have to build vocabularies in these areas, and that the only way to do that was to read. Often. Purposefully. And after one gains some facility in the area of specialty, then practicing translation (both ways — German -> English, and English -> German) is how real skill is built. Her admission was a bit shocking, at least to me. I figured if she had studied German to the point at which a well-respected university would confer a degree upon her in that subject area, then she must know the language fairly well. And I'm sure that she does know the language fairly well. But after years of focused study, she would need to work even more to develop the necessary vocabulary and translation skill to be truly marketable. She surely has the foundation to do this, but her admission that she'd need to focus on a particular area in order to provide meaningful (and marketable) translation skill was enlightening.

Overall, that part of the conversation was the most interesting to me, especially since I've cultivated my own love of language over the past six years or so. In my job, I work with language. Daily. I typically work with NT Greek, and with lexicons, dictionaries and commentaries — not to mention various different morphological analyses of the Greek New Testament. My paltry one year of instruction has developed into a rather extensive familiarity with the Greek language and especially with the primary texts and tools used by folks who utilize knowledge of Greek in their Biblical study. This knowledge has come about simply by exposure to the material; much the same as my implicit knowledge of English grammar and syntax is enhanced through consistent reading of non-fiction in the areas that interest me.

The method for becoming more proficient with koine Greek is, not surprisingly, exactly the same method as that described by my fellow-asado-moocher last night. The difference with New Testament Greek is that the tough decisions have already been made for us. No area of speciality need be selected; NT Greek of the first century AD is already a very specific (and well documented) subject area. We don't need to worry about collecting literature to study, that has been done for us. Greek New Testaments are easy to come by. The English translations of this corpus are myriad, so checking one's translation against a number of other translational approaches is easy. (Hint: Bible software makes this sort of translation-checking task rather simple). If one is truly interested, other texts are available as well: Apostolic Fathers, Works of Josephus, Works of Philo; to name a few. The truly ambitious can hit the LXX for older Greek in a similar area of specialty, but the NT is enough for most of us and it is the most logical place to start.

That leaves us at the most important place: the start.

To be worthwhile, learning must be active and purposeful. As much as we would all like it to be true, learning by osmosis is not an option. We (I include myself here) can't get proficient in NT Greek if we don't ever attempt to read NT Greek. Take at least 10 minutes every morning or evening and work through a verse or two.

Sure, it's tough to page back and forth in the lexicons looking up definitions. (Hint: Bible software makes this easier!). It's tough to remember the role that different parts of speech play in the sentence at hand. Pronouns are particularly strange in NT Greek, at least to me. But consistent attempted reading is the only way to go about getting better. And vocabulary is tough to build. Paradigm charts are almost impossibly tough to remember.

But the strangest thing happens when you begin to regularly read the text. Not the first day, or the second, or even in the first few weeks. But over time, amazingly, you start to get it. Where you couldn't be bothered with the importance of conjunctions before, you now look for them in what you read because you know they play an important role. Where you couldn't remember if it was a “prepositional” or a “participial”  phrase because you always get those long p-words mixed up, you now know they're prepositional phrases, and you can even pick them out because you're more familiar with prepositions. Your vocabulary gets better. You begin to say, “hey, I remember that word from [passage]” and then go back to look and compare.

There is no silver bullet to gaining proficiency with language, it takes disciplined effort. The only way to build up real proficiency is to saddle up and dig in. But, as with any worthwhile pursuit, the work is rewarded. This is particularly true if the language being pursued is Greek or Hebrew (or Aramaic), as these are the primary languages of the primary texts of the Bible.

So there you have it. If you've had some formal Greek instruction but never really quite crossed the line from knowing a few things about the language to actually using the primary texts (i.e., Greek New Testament) in your studies, you now know the secret. Unfortunately, the secret is pretty obvious, and implementing it isn't easy.

Carve some time out of your day and exercise your Greek muscle. That's the only way it'll get stronger.

ProfessorBainbridge.com has a link to a 40-page PDF report on “Human Rights Advocacy in the Mainline Protestant Churches (2000-2003)”. The report was released by “The Institute on Religion and Democracy”, an outfit I know nothing about (their URL: http://www.ird-renew.org). I have not read the whole 40 pages, but the “Executive Summary” on pp. 1-2 of the PDF has some interesting things to say.

This isn't your average “human rights” screed. The paper criticizes four mainline Protestant denominations for seemingly misplaced criticism of human rights efforts. The group finds that the US and Israel are the targets of over 2/3 (69%) of the human rights criticisms of these denominations, and that “Of the fifteen worst human rights offenders in the world, only five were criticized by the churches during the four year period studied.”

Interesting stuff. The most interesting thing (to me) in the executive summary, however, is something I can't summarize, but will rather quote at length:

In the 1970s and 1980s, the churches made the mistake of supporting oppressive Soviet-sponsored liberation movements around the world. They largely ignored human rights abuses in the Soviet Union and its satellite states, instead focusing on U.S. policy as the primary source of abuse. It appears that mainline denominations may be making the same mistake today with the Arab and Muslim worlds, ignoring many of the most serious abuses while apparently laying heavy blame upon the United States and Israel not only for their own lesser abuses, but also for the abuses of others.

It is evident from the tone and language used by mainline church leaders in their statements and legislation that, as a group, they believe that the United States is often a malignant influence in the world. This pervasive anti-Americanism is demonstrated time and again in their public policy advocacy, and one need not investigate far to find it.

Given the dramatic unwillingness of the mainline churches to criticize states around Israel for their human rights abuses—not only the connections to worldwide terrorism, but also the oppression and brutality toward their own people—it is not unreasonable to ask whether anti-Jewish animus may play some role in the churches’ skewed human rights advocacy.

Wow.  This report is interesting to me because the report doesn't pooh-pooh the concept of human rights. The report is instead critical of misguided efforts in the area of human rights (from what I can tell by the executive summary).

I'm not sure when I'll make it through the whole 40 pages; it might just end up being little more than a skim. If you know anything about The Institute on Religion and Democracy, their views, or reasons why not to trust what they put out, please drop a comment here.

Update: In the comments section, ricoblog reader Patrick points us to a listing of IRD officers, directors, and advisors. The name I recognized immediately was that of Dr. Thomas C. Oden, who authored the commentary on the Pastoral Epistles in the “Interpretation” series from Westminster/John Knox. Dr. Oden is also the General Editor of IVP's highly-acclaimed Ancient Christian Commentary on Scripture. 

Once again, an insightful link culled from Marginal Revolution. What's that, you don't aggregate the Marginal Revolution RSS feed? For shame.

The MR dudes link to an article at the “Foundation for Economic Education” entitled Moses and Outsourcing. The authors use the example of manna from heaven to support an argument that outsourcing isn't a bad thing, but a good thing. The logic is ok, I suppose, though the argument seems a bit forced. But hey, it's worth reading with writing like this:

The biblical account doesn’t use economics jargon. Nevertheless, manna was equivalent to what now would be called outsourced food. Hey, it was outsourcing to beat all outsourcing—God offered it for the taking. No one had to plant it. No one had to tend it. Just pick it up. Good deal? Not if you’re an outsourcing alarmist, United States circa 2004.

Can’t you just hear what these alarmists would have been advising Moses about manna? You know, things about manna causing the Israelites to lose food-production jobs. Not just any jobs, mind you, but “good” jobs. Horror of all horrors, manna meant trading good jobs for bad jobs, reducing Israelite living standards. The Israelites should shun manna to preserve good jobs and high living standards. Or so the alarmists would argue.

You can read Ex 16 and see for yourselves. I think the economic argument is somewhat strained — I mean, there was a bit of a monopoly going on in regards to food production in the desert. The source was God, and that was it. Surely the Foundation for Economic Education isn't arguing the merits of the benevolent dictatorship — which would be the closest modern economic/political model to Israel in the desert, right?

Yes, that's a little joke. :) Surely the guys at the Foundation have a sense of humor ...

Update: Wow, the editor of The Freeman comments on my humble post! Thanks for dropping by, Mr. Richman. And thanks for fightin' the good fight in the realm of economic education!

My only thought in adding the “benevolent dictator” remark was that God was stooping to take care of the Israelites in the desert, to ensure their needs were met. There were no other options. It was the only analogous contemporary situation I could think of in the three seconds I took to think about it while writing the post. Not the best comparison, of course. Comparisons are never adequate when one is comparing something contemporary to God.

Regarding any economic motives in God's action with the Israelites, I plead Deut 29.29.

I'm still pluggin' on the Pastorals, and will be for awhile. I'm through 1Ti 2.1-2. This means the next section I'm working through is 1Ti 2.3-7, which is one of my favorite sections of 1 Timothy:

³ This is good, and it is pleasing in the sight of God our Savior, ⁴ who desires all people to be saved and to come to the knowledge of the truth.

⁵ For there is one God, and there is one mediator between God and men, the man Christ Jesus,
⁶ who gave himself as a ransom for all, which is the testimony given at the proper time.

⁷ For this I was appointed a preacher and an apostle (I am telling the truth, I am not lying), a teacher of the Gentiles in faith and truth. (1Ti 2.3-7, ESV)

As a fan of creeds and catechisms, and as a fan of the Pastorals, this kind of stuff gets me excited. It's a little daunting — there are some serious theological issues in the above excerpt — but fun nonetheless. Verses 5-6 are interesting because of the concept of Christ as the one standing between God and men; and also of Christ as a ransom. Some interpreters see vv 5-6 and see an excerpt of an early Christian statement of belief (creed? baptismal statement of belief?) and conclude that the Pastorals must be later in date, and therefore could not be authored by Paul. Others see this and attribute this statement to the Holy-Spirit-inspired genius of Paul and see it as confirmation of Pauline authorship. I think it's probably evidence that Paul knew a good argument when he heard it, and wasn't afraid to use good arguments if he knew them and if they would help his cause. He was a smart guy, that Paul.

And what does that part in verse 3 about all people being saved mean?

And in verse 3, the phrase “God our Savior” crops up again. What's that all about?

Not only that, but Paul says that for “this” (v. 7) he was appointed an apostle & preacher. So, what is “this”? I know what I think, but I'll be quiet about it for now. 

The digression in verse 7 is also interesting. Why did Paul have to reiterate that he was telling the truth? Had he lied earlier? Was his audience untrusting for some reason? Or is the “this” so weird as to be unbelievable, thus requiring Paul's extra assurance to his readers?

All in all, an interesting section. Note that we see something similar to vv. 4-5 in 1Ti 3.16; which is also most likely some sort of early Christian hymn or statement of belief cited by Paul. 

A few weeks back I blathered on about “Argumentum ad Hitlerum” and other logical fallacies. Imagine my surprise when this morning I read about a new online reference called “The Book of the Fallacy” from the good folks at the Adam Smith Institute.

Looks like fun. If you're into this stuff, you should peruse it. However, they don't have a listing for “Hitler, Argumentum ad” yet ...

Hi. My name is Rick. I'm a bibliophile.

Now, with that out of the way ...

About a year ago, a colleague was kind enough to show me a real cool book he owns. It was called Pauline Parallels, published in 1974 or so. It was probably 10” tall by 18” (yes, that's 18”!) wide, spiral bound. The authors, Fred O. Francis and J. Paul Sampley, have arranged the Pauline epistles in a parallel arrangement — much like editions of the synoptic Gospels arrange the Gospels in parallel. The publisher (of the second and third editions) is Fortress Press. I was intrigued. Immediately hooked. I knew that someday I'd have a copy of this wonderful book.

I did some research then and found out that the book has since been updated and republished. The second edition was printed in 1984 (hardcover) as part of Fortress Press' Foundations & Facets: New Testament series. What is called a third edition (though I think it is just a paperback edition; page number counts and dimensions are exactly the same) was released in 1996. At least, I think 1996 was the date.

I finally got around to purchasing a copy; it arrived earlier this week. You can buy the third edition paperback from Fortress, but note that I found the hardcover in excellent shape from a used bookseller via AbeBooks for $21, S&H included. The second and third editions are smaller than the first edition — they have the same basic dimensions as a volume of the Hermeneia commentary series.

This book is just cool. It splits the Paulines (alas, sans Pastoral Epistles ... sigh ... ) into 310 pericopes (or sections). Then it has the text of the NRSV for each pericope in parallel arrangement. For instance, here is pericope 183 (chosen by flipping to the middle of the book):

§183: 2Co 11.21b-29. Formal Element: Hardships List

Primary Parallels: Ro 8.31-39 (§34); 1Co 4.8-13 (§85)

Secondary Parallels: Ro 2.17-24 (§10); Ro 3.27-31 (§15); Ro 9.1-5 (§35); Ro 11.1-6 (§44); Php 3.2-11 (§247); Php 4.10-20 (§253); Col 1.24-2.3 (§260); 1Th 2.1-8 (§277); 1Th 3.1-5 (§281).

The bottom portion of each page lists cross references (Paulines, NT, OT) that are less directly related and also lists related passages from Acts or the Pastoral Epistles. The index is handy and lists both main entries and the bottom-of-the-page entries. There are even some short text-critical notes on occasion.

If you're looking to do any study in the Paulines, or just want to have a good reference on the Paulines handy, this could be it. The book makes it easy to see what Paul said on a given topic across his letters. It also allows one to see how Paul tailored his message differently to different churches in different situations.

All in all, very cool — a handy book to have around.

Also cool: If you do the math, you'll note that you could use Pauline Parallels as your devotional reading for the year. 310 sections means you can skip one day a week and get through the whole thing in a year with a few days to spare.