Amy and I moved from one house to another in late October. Since then, it has seemed that whenever I want a particular book I'm doomed to find that it is in an inaccessible box in the spare bedroom.

Today we finally got the office together, and books out of the inaccessible spots and onto shelves. Ella loved being around all the books, and she quickly dug into a pile of mine. I had to get a camera and record the event. She actually chose this book out of the pile, though I'm guessing it was because it was the biggest ... not because she had a question about how Philo might've used a particular word.

"Aposiopesis" is a new one for me. Stumbled across this one reading R.T. France on Mk 11.31-33 (in his NIGTC volume) this morning.

The four words that remain, ἀλλὰ εἴπωμεν ἐξ ἀνθρώπων, can be construed either as the beginning of a second conditional clause matching ἐὰν εἴπωμεν ἐξ οὐρανοῦ in v. 31, but with the ἐάν left unexpressed, or as a further deliberative question, ‘But shall we say “From men”?’, or even as a tentative decision on their part, ‘But let us say “From men” ’, which is then aborted by their recognition of the diplomatic gaffe that would involve. While the general sense is clear, the syntax is awkward, and the decision on how to punctuate the aposiopesis after ἀνθρώπων is a matter of taste.

France, R. T. (2002). The Gospel of Mark : A commentary on the Greek text (455). Grand Rapids, Mich.;  Carlisle: W.B. Eerdmans;  Paternoster Press.

Here's the definition from MW's eleventh edition:

"the leaving of a thought incomplete usu[ally] by a sudden breaking off (as in “his behavior was—but I blush to mention that”)

Merriam-Webster, I. (2003). Merriam-Webster's collegiate dictionary. Includes index. (Eleventh ed.). Springfield, Mass.: Merriam-Webster, Inc.

Here's the text; France is referring to the spot in v. 32, at the end of the words attributed to the scribes and chief priests (where the ESV has an emdash).

31 And they discussed it with one another, saying, “If we say, ‘From heaven,’ he will say, ‘Why then did you not believe him?’ 32 But shall we say, ‘From man’?”—they were afraid of the people, for they all held that John really was a prophet. 33 So they answered Jesus, “We do not know.” And Jesus said to them, “Neither will I tell you by what authority I do these things.” (Mk 11.31-33)

Update (2008-05-26): Two excellent comments on this post. The first, from David Fish, is a pointer to a blog post of his own where he recollects his first experience with aposiopesis. Do check it out, and check out David's blog, Random Thoughts from a Fish, as well. 

The second is a comment from Dave Novick, reminding us to check Bullinger's Figures of Speech for these sorts of things. Dave writes, "He's got an article devoted to it on page 151. The article divides the good number of Biblical examples into 4 categories: Promise, Anger and Threating, Grief and Complaint, Enquiry and Deprecation. I thought I'd pass that on, in case you (and others) weren't already familiar with it."

So there you go.

Why, oh why couldn't this have happened on I5 in the vicinity of Bellingham?

Location? Morris, Illinois.

The lede: "Got Milk? Police say a trailer loaded with 14 tons of double-stuffed Oreos has overturned, spilling the cookies still in their plastic sleeves into the median and roadway."

I'm hungry just thinking about it.

One thing I'm doing to get an idea of how αλλα functions is examining synoptic parallels for instances of non-negative αλλα. Do the parallels also use αλλα? If not, are they using different structures to communicate the same thing, or are they communicating different things?

Here's my initial rough draft for the instance in Mt 9.18.

Mt 9.18 (|| Mk 5.23 || Lu 8.41-42)

18 Ταῦτα αὐτοῦ λαλοῦντος αὐτοῖς ἰδοὺ ἄρχων εἷς ἐλθὼν προσεκύνει αὐτῷ λέγων ὅτι
    Ἡ θυγάτηρ μου ἄρτι ἐτελεύτησεν
    ἀλλὰ ἐλθὼν ἐπίθες τὴν χεῖρά σου ἐπ’ αὐτήν καὶ ζήσεται
       (Mt 9.18, NA27)
18 While he was saying these things to them, behold, a ruler came in and knelt before him, saying,
    “My daughter has just died,
    but come and lay your hand on her, and she will live.”
        (Mt 9.18, ESV)

The parallels in Mark and Luke disclose that the “ruler” in this instance is Jairus. His daughter has died; he desires Jesus to heal her and restore her to life. In this case, there is a degree of contrast involved in the context. Jairus is asking for Jesus to move his daughter from the state of death (τελευτάω, aorist active indicative) back into the state of life (ζάω, future middle indicative). The underlying contrast is both lexical (contrast between death and life) and grammatical (between the aorist and future tenses). In this instance, αλλα functions as a hinge between the two contrasting statements, heightening the contrast and shifting focus onto the apodosis: Jairus believes that if Jesus comes and touches her, she will live.

The differences between the synoptic accounts of this event are notable. Here are the Markan and Lukan accounts:

23 καὶ παρακαλεῖ αὐτὸν πολλὰ λέγων ὅτι
    Τὸ θυγάτριόν μου ἐσχάτως ἔχει
        ἵνα ἐλθὼν ἐπιθῇς τὰς χεῖρας αὐτῇ
            ἵνα σωθῇ καὶ ζήσῃ (Mk 5.23, NA27)
23 and implored him earnestly, saying,
    “My little daughter is at the point of death.
        Come and lay your hands on her,
            so that she may be made well and live.” (Mk 5.23, ESV)

41 καὶ ἰδοὺ ἦλθεν ἀνὴρ ᾧ ὄνομα Ἰάϊρος
καὶ οὗτος ἄρχων τῆς συναγωγῆς ὑπῆρχεν
καὶ πεσὼν παρὰ τοὺς πόδας τοῦ Ἰησοῦ παρεκάλει αὐτὸν εἰσελθεῖν εἰς τὸν οἶκον αὐτοῦ
    42 ὅτι θυγάτηρ μονογενὴς ἦν αὐτῷ ὡς ἐτῶν δώδεκα καὶ αὐτὴ ἀπέθνῃσκεν
Ἐν δὲ τῷ ὑπάγειν αὐτὸν οἱ ὄχλοι συνέπνιγον αὐτόν (Lu 8.41-42, NA27)
41 And there came a man named Jairus,
who was a ruler of the synagogue.
And falling at Jesus’ feet, he implored him to come to his house,
    42 for he had an only daughter, about twelve years of age, and she was dying.
As Jesus went, the people pressed around him. (Lu 8.41-42, ESV)

In the Markan and Lukan accounts, Jairus initially represents his daughter as being sick unto the point of death but still alive; information of the girl’s death comes later from a servant who arrives on the scene (Mk 5.35 || Lu 8.49). In Matthew she is represented as being dead throughout Jesus and Jairus’ interaction.

In Mark, Jairus’ request is twofold: “so that she be made well and live”. The request in Luke is much more subtle: “he implored [Jesus] to come to his house”. But recall that in Matthew, the request is not to make Jairus’ daughter well, but for Jesus to place his hands on her so that she may live again.

Matthew, compressing the event of Jesus and Jairus’ initial interaction, packs all of the contrast and drama of the event into Jairus’ request that Jesus, by touching his daughter, restore her life from death. Jairus by his statement shows that he thinks Jesus is able to, with his very touch, restore the dead to the living. Mark and Luke both spread this aspect of the drama out. First, Jairus requests that Jesus heal his daughter (Mark only refers to Jesus healing through touch; Luke has Jairus requesting that Jesus simply come to his house to heal, with means unspecified). Then the interlude with the healing of the woman with the issue of blood, who is healed through touching Jesus’ garment, which shows the power of Jesus to heal by touch. Only after this do Mark and Luke update the reader with the further information that Jairus’ daughter has died. They both do this by focusing on the hopelessness of the situation; now that the daughter has died there is no reason to further bother Jesus. But Jesus overhears this report (Mk 5.36 || Lu 8.50) and goes to Jairus’ house anyway, where his touch—in all accounts he takes the daughter by the hand—restores her to life.

In Matthew, then, Jairus’ request is initially larger and more hopeless. Instead of asking Jesus to heal his daughter from a grave illness, he asks that his dead daughter be restored to life. Each synoptic account uses different grammatical means to make this request: Mark focuses on means, requesting Jesus’ touch to reverse the slide from death back toward life. Luke focuses on Jairus’ method of request, passionately imploring that Jesus come to his house to heal his dying daughter. Matthew’s version, with αλλα in a non-negative context, relies on the contrast between death and restoration to life to quickly establish the impossibility of the situation. Mark and Luke reinforce/increase the hopelessness later (and thus increase the drama) by the introduction of the servant with news that Jairus' daughter has, in fact, died.

All three instances end up in the same place, with Jesus’ touch restoring Jairus’ daughter to life. Matthew’s use of αλλα in a non-negative context is the only instance that places all of the contrast at the head of the story, previous to the healing of the woman with the issue of blood.

(end of what I wrote this AM)

Which account do I like best? Actually, I like Mark's version the best because of the progression:

• Jairus: Your touch will heal my daughter, so she will live.
• Jesus: Whoa, who touched me?
• Woman: I did. And I'm healed.
• Jesus: Your faith has made you well.
• Jairus' servant: Don't waste your time bothering Jesus, Jairus, your daughter is dead.
• Jesus: Don't fear, only believe.
• Jesus goes to house.
• Mourners: You're too late, she's dead.
• Jesus: She's not dead, she's only sleeping.*
• Jesus: Takes her by the hand, asks her to rise, and she does.

The whole thing starts with Jairus stating Jesus' touch will heal. Then the woman with the issue of blood touches Jesus' garment and is healed. Then we find out that Jairus' daughter is dead. Then it's confirmed she's dead. Then his touch raises the dead girl; though Jesus is quick to teach it isn't necessarily his touch, it is the belief—the belief of the woman with the issue of blood that she'd be healed, and the belief of Jairus (stated at the start of this episode) that Jesus could make his daughter better. I think that ties it better together than Matthew's or Luke's versions of the story. I'd take Matthew as a close second. Mark creates more suspense/drama with the progression from gravely ill to dead; Matthew front-loads the contrast (using lexical and grammatical means, and marking it even more by using αλλα) and the drama, making Jairus' faith in Jesus to heal seem even greater.

* Resisting urge to write, "She's only mostly dead ..."

Why? Because, if you take the time to read or at least peruse their 330 page Introduction to their NT (amazon.com) (published in a second volume with an appendix), you see that they fill in most if not all of the details of the how & why of their edition.

What sort of stuff? Well ... who'd've thunk that two pages on casing of κυριος, Χριστος and υψιστος would be appropriate? Sometimes on reading an upper-cased Κυριος or a lower-cased χριστος (In NA27, not WH) I've often wondered "why is that one upper-cased/lower-cased?"

WH show their work and tell you why, at least in their edition — and why, in four instances in Luke (Lu 1.32; Lu 1.35; Lu 1.75; Lu 6.35) they also upper-cased Υψιστος. They take two pages (pp. 316-318; §§414-416) to tell you. Here's §416, explaining their capitalization of Υψιστος:

416. An initial capital has likewise been used for Υψιστος in the four places, all in St Luke's Gospel, in which it stands in the singular without an article. In this shape it exactly represents the anarthrous Elion, a very ancient name not confined to the Jews, and is virtually itself a proper name. In the LXX the article is usually inserted: but in Ecclesiasticus, doubtless a better authority for Palestinian custom, Υψιστος occurs frequently, and has the article but once, except in combination with another title.

More than you ever wanted to know, but helpful nonetheless. If you're looking for a copy of WH's Intro/Appendix, then you want the 1896 edition which has corrections/updates.

Why do I like this so? Whether I agree or not, I can at least know what in the world they were thinking. You can't do that with any other print edition; none are nearly as transparent as WH were. We'd all do well to re-learn this lesson.

Wipf & Stock have done a recent photo-reprint, available in paperback (amazon.com).

Hendrickson did a reprint in the late 1980's, in hardcover (amazon.com). Some used copies of this are available via Amazon.

Which do I recommend? I don't know, I've not used any of the reprint editions. Years ago, I found a copy of the 1896 edition via abebooks from a seller in Australia and snapped it up quickly.

If you work with the Greek New Testament and do anything remotely pertaining to textual criticism (the appendix "Notes on Select Readings" is a mini-Metzger for WH's edition and their "Notes on Orthography" will tell you more than you wanted to know about spelling in their edition); or if you have interest in orthography, punctuation, and other particulars of producing and fully utilizing a printed edition of the Greek NT, then you need this book; whether the Hendrickson hardcover (amazon.com) or the Wipf & Stock softcover (amazon.com).

Update (2008-05-14): Thanks to Mark from the Bible and Tech blog for pointing out that WH's Intro/Appendix volume is available via Google Books. So grab it and absorb!

A comment from Justin on a recent αλλα post noted:

I ran into a funny αλλα recently.  In 1 Peter 3.16 there is a use that seems to develop the previous verse thought.  If it were to contradict the previous thought it would be a really strange translation.  Check it out and let me know what you think.

Here's the response I emailed back to him:

There's a lot going on in 1Pe 3.13-16 with both δε and αλλα.

One of my contentions/thoughts about αλλα is that yes, it is a marker of contrast, but contrast has a range -- is isn't simply on or off; it is more like a dial than a switch. The range has to do with contextual cues. When the context of αλλα involves a negative then a positive (e.g., "not [that], but [this]") the contrast is high. Contrast is similarly high with positive-negative  context (e.g., "[that], but not [this]").

There are, however, a small portion of αλλα that seemingly involve no negative (at least directly). The two αλλα in 1Pe 3.13-16 fit in this group. So I'd say they're still contrasting, it is just not as blatant because the author isn't using contextual cues (positives/negatives) to amp up the contrast. In vv 15-16, the contrast is much more subtle, having to do with the way the defense is made. A more amped-up way of saying it would be, "Be prepared to make a solid defense, but don't bite the guy's head off". The contrast is in the way the defense is made, it isn't made ... er ... defensively, it is made positively and respectfully but strongly. Peter didn't use the amped-up version, and he did that on purpose because that was what he needed to do to make his point. The spotlight is still on the portion following αλλα (make the defense with gentleness and respect); that is the important bit of the comparison/contrast.

At least, that's what I think right now. I hope to look into each of the non-negative instances (there are over 90 of them) a bit further over the next months.

I've got a lot of work to do before finishing this paper ...

Nijay Gupta, of his eponymously-named blog, put out a list of 20 scholars who have influenced him most.

I don't have a list quite like Nijay's, likely because I haven't pursued formal graduate studies. My list is less centered around scholars and influence from the books they've written and more centered around scholars (and others who some may not qualify as 'scholars' because they have no post-grad/terminal degree) and the conversation(s) and relationship I've had with them. While ideas presented in books are important, relationships are much more shaping—at least for me. That said, here we go. This is in no particular order.

Randall Tan — Randall has been nothing short of an encouragement to me; he has always been generous and charitable in any interaction we've had. He is a gentleman, a scholar, and someone I am lucky enough to call a friend. I'd venture to say his functional recall of things having to do with Greek grammar is the highest of almost anyone I know, and he's always willing to help when I have a question. Anyway, Randall has encouraged and taught me to not be afraid when approaching things I don't fully understand; chances are I have a better understanding than I give myself credit for — and I'll usually be able to work it out while pursuing the problem.

Matthew Brook O'Donnell — While working on the Logos Bible Software implementation of OpenText.org's syntactic analysis of the Greek New Testament, I was able to interact with Matt a lot. In working through the OpenText.org data, and with his help (and, for that matter, Randall's help too) my brain made the shift from thinking about Greek at the word level to thinking about Greek at the level of the phrase/clause. Additionally, his Corpus Linguistics and the Greek of the New Testament (amazon.com) is thought provoking and (along with Jeffrey T. Reed's A Discourse Analysis of Philippians (amazon.com)) go a long way to providing documentation and background to the details of the OpenText.org analysis. All great stuff.

Albert Lukaszewski — I've had the privilege of working with Dr. Lukaszewski (whom many of you know from Zondervan's Reader's Greek New Testament (amazon.com) fame) on the conception and production of the Lexham Syntactic Greek New Testament for Logos Bible Software. The primary work was done roughly in the same period as work on the OpenText.org SAGNT (mentioned above), though the project is an ongoing one. In working through this information with Al, I was able to first of all come to an understanding of sentence diagramming that I would've never been able to outside of his work, and secondly come to understand the strengths and weaknesses of both the traditional approach to Greek grammar/syntax (which the Lexham SGNT largely represents) and the more linguistically oriented approach of the OpenText.org project.

Steven Runge — I've been working with Steve on the Lexham Discourse Greek New Testament for well over a year now. In much the same way that my brain shifted from thinking about words to thinking about phrases/clauses; my brain has shifted further into the realm of discourse; particularly the area of "Discourse Grammar". I never would've been able to realize the importance, at the discourse level, of function words and other sorts of information structures without his work and encouragement. I still have oodles to learn in this particular area, but Steve has given me a foundation I can build on as I examine all sorts of things (like αλλα) to learn more. Conjunctions and other particles are now my friends.

Maurice Robinson — I've been privileged to have a few conversations with Dr. Robinson as we've met in passing at ETS over the past few years. What I've learned from him and his work is that if you have theories you're convinced of, you need to do due diligence and work them out to their logical extent. I'm not a Byzantine priorist; but I do appreciate and respect Dr. Robinson's work.

Charles E. Hill — Dr. Hill was my first-year Greek prof at Northwestern College back in 1992-93. Without the foundation he gave (yay ATHENAZE!  Go, Δικαιοπολις!) I wouldn't be where I am today.

Ray Van Neste — Ray's work on the Pastorals (Cohesion and Structure in the Pastoral Epistles (amazon.com)) is the best non-commentary resource you can get for the Pastorals (and better and more helpful than most commentaries, for that matter). The section on semantic chaining (much of the theory here taken from Guthrie's work on Hebrews (amazon.com)) alone is worth the price of admission (or, it used to be before the book went out of print and you could get it for under $100). Discussions of transitions, cohesion and the like are excellent. This volume has helped and shaped my thinking about the Pastorals more than any other single volume. Find it at a library or get it via interlibrary loan if you're working in the Pastorals. And his focus on pastoral ministry and family is heartening.

Vincent Setterholm — Vincent is a colleague at Logos whom I've known for what, five years now? Vincent taught me that, properly focused and adequately balanced, auto-didacticism is a good thing. He also taught me that building a library is important. Don't be afraid to buy the worthy books at any reasonable price. And read them once you've got them.

Eli Evans — Eli is another colleague at Logos (you can tell I'm heavily influenced by the guys I work with, huh?). I've worked with him for over 10 years. Eli has single-handedly shaped my writing skills with his incisive and functional criticism of the stuff I've passed off as writing in the past, oh, five years. He's also a valued friend and debating partner/adversary.

Here's a nugget from the intro in the back of W&H's printed volume (so, not the Intro/Appendix volume, but the actual text volume):

A few hours spent in studying a series of the countless corrections which no one would think of accepting will shew the variety of instinct to be found among scribes, the frequent disagreement between their instincts and our own, and, above all, the conflicting effects of different instincts in the same passage. (W&H, 542)

So often we (or I should say "I", instead of transferring my guilt to others) study only the juicy variants, discounting variants that seem obviously wrong or misguided according to common text-critical guidelines. This is exceedingly easy to do with the NA27 apparatus as guide, which (rightly for a handbook edition) focuses on listing variants but doesn't really get you any further in associating variants with particular MSS or even with particular scribes. In other words, studying variants with NA27, you will get a very good sense of the variation units but you won't get any sense of the underlying MSS and variant types to which each are prone.

W&H's advice above runs counter to the presentation in NA27. They say study all of the variants, not just the juicy ones. They say to get a sense of "the variety of instinct among scribes", not just items meaningful to translation. Reuben Swanson's NT Manuscripts volumes are much more amenable to this approach; they let you study each MS as a whole so you can actually get a sense of the peculiarities of each MS and, to some degree, scribes.

Why is that important? Coming to such an understanding by working through several of the seemingly "little" issues clues you in to how to process the big, juicy, more "meaningful" variation units. Otherwise one will likely just think things like "the shorter reading is the best reading" or "the more difficult reading is more likely the correct reading" or even "the older witness/higher quality MS has the best reading". Balancing those sort of seemingly objective criteria might be good guidelines overall, but they're hardly 100% applicable rules; particularly when these guidelines conflict, as they often do. What about when the shortest reading is the easiest reading, but it's in the earlier/more reliable witness? Or when the longest reading is the hardest reading, but it is in an 8th-9th century MS that doesn't agree with the major uncials? In these sorts of cases, a "majority rules" approach has as much chance at being right as it does at being wrong.

So take W&H's advice sometime. Work through all the variants you can find for your passage, keeping track of source (which MS they come from) and nature of variant. Use that information when considering overall which readings you consider proper. Have fun!