At the bottom of the pile is the Tyndale House Greek New Testament (Reader’s Edition, published by Crossway). Foundational to reading, and more importantly to understanding, is what God has to say. He sets the agenda and provides the framework. God is a speaking God, and although not knowable apart from his revelation of himself, what he says is understandable in any language. We all think using a framework that consists of a cloud of background assumptions and commonplaces. It’s important to know where it comes from. I want mine to depend on what God has said in his word, the Bible. What was written by the human authors of the Bible was obviously written down in a language other than English. However, it looses none of its power when translated, whether into English or any other language. This was a major bone of contention at the time of the Reformation, although the issue was really who had the authority to interpret Scripture. Ordinary believers were claimed not to be able or allowed to interpret it for themselves, so why let them read it in their own language? There is also a contrast here with Islam. The Koran only carries authority when read and cited in Arabic. As Pickthall wrote of his own English translation “The Quran cannot be translated. [This] is only an attempt to present the meaning of the Quran … in English. It can never take the place of the Quran in Arabic, nor is it meant to do so.”
So why bother learning New Testament Greek? Because not everything is equally clear and straightforward as the New Testament itself says (e.g. see 2 Peter 3:16), and all translation involves a degree of interpretation. To get into the mind of the writers in their own language is to gain a useful new perspective. Therefore, rather later than I probably should have, I’ve embarked on learning New Testament Greek. It won’t be a quick or easy process. But I hope to have completed the basics over the next eight months or so, and then there’s the possibility of progressing to some of the language modules offered by Union where I did my MTh. Perhaps by the year’s end, I’ll be able to read the odd verse here or there.
The holdover is Barclay’s “Paul & the Gift”; I started it last month (i.e. last year). It takes a bit of reading and illustrates why getting on top of NT Greek can be so useful. Barclay explores Paul’s use of the idea of a gift (linked with concepts like grace and mercy). You might wonder why this is needed given that the writing in question has been around for two thousand years or so. My view is that the big picture is fairly clear and easily understood. In my natural state I cannot work my way into acceptability with a God who is perfect, holy and just. But neither can he just “let me off” as an act of “simple” mercy – that would be outrageously unjust; he would become something less than he is. And if he just lets me off, what about you? That looks suspiciously capricious as well as unjust. So instead he does something daring in the extreme not to say surprising. He takes my punishment on himself (in the person of Jesus) and then he lets me off. Turns out it is simple. But then again it isn’t really. This leaves all sorts of issues hanging. Some of the complications are to do with how Paul discusses all of this especially in his letters to the Romans and the Galatians (hence the usefulness of the Greek, which Barclay quotes and discusses in detail). Some of the issues are to do with how Paul’s writing relates to the Judaism of his day, and how this is to be understood (something that changes from time to time). And some of it has to do with the ways we think today about gift and grace, which turns out to be different to what these things meant in the ancient world. All well worth exploring in more detail, which Barclay certainly does.
Sounds a bit heavy. Much shorter is Peter Williams “The Surprising Genius of Jesus” which is primarily a look at what is commonly called the “parable of the prodigal”. Williams, now principal of Tyndale House, was involved in producing the Greek NT I’m looking forward to being able to read, and is an expert in Greek (and other things). So this will again be about the specifics of the language Jesus uses and how he tunes it to the precise context of his original audience. William's point is that this is done with such skill that Jesus demonstrates not just the genius of an expert story teller but the genius of the original author; he is of course both.
I have some philosophy/philosophical theology in my pile In the form of Plantinga’s “Knowledge and Christian Belief” and Tyson’s “A Christian Theology of Science” (which I mentioned briefly previously). How do we know what we think we know? Plantinga is perhaps best known for his book “Warranted Christian Knowledge”, but the book in my pile is later, shorter and perhaps an easier read. No doubt to the bemusement of that rarest of beasts the “new atheist”, Christian belief (along with lots of other wild and wacky stuff) is potentially respectable again. This may be the product of a culture that has privatised belief and elevated the principle of tolerance to totemic status. If sincerely held belief is beyond criticism (at least when privately held and not inflicted on others), then this must apply to Christian beliefs. Where such beliefs raise their head in public, say in academic debate, they should be given a polite hearing, if only to be dismissed as just someone else’s “truth”. Tyson seeks to give priority to Christian belief (or at least theology) over even science. That this should be at all entertained is very different to the attitudes I was exposed to as a student forty years ago. It was taken for granted that progress, particularly in science, meant we could dispense with certain types of belief which were only for the weak-minded. How things have changed, at least superficially.
Some history next: a two volume biography of Selina, the Countess of Huntingdon (obtained from the excellent Kernaghan's bookshop) and Richard Turnbull’s biography of Shaftesbury (“Shaftesbury: The Great Reformer”). Selina was an influential participant in the “Great Awakening” of the eighteenth century. Although almost forgotten now, she was one of the great supporters of George Whitefield and a number of other prominent preachers. What the Awakening achieved is disputed by historians, but arguably is saved Great Britain from the kind of revolution that afflicted France at the end of the eighteenth century, and laid the basis for major social reforms in the nineteenth. Some of these were implemented by Shaftesbury, hence the idea of reading about the two together. I confess that I’m looking forward to these as “light relief” meaning no disrespect to their authors. I love reading history and had the privilege of studying the history and theology of evangelicalism with Richard Turnbull not that long ago. He was kind enough to give us his copies of his book, so I’ve felt morally obliged to read it for a while. I’m sure it will be a treat.
Finally on the pile is John Wyatt’s account of his friendship with John Stott (“Transforming Friendship”). John Stott was probably almost as influential as Shaftesbury but at a very different time and in a very different way. I was attracted to this book because at its heart is a friendship, the topic of my dissertation. That was dry, clipped, academic, referenced – it was theory. Wyatt’s book is of interest because it is about personal practicality. An interesting contrast.
So, these are the books that make up my initial pile for 2024. Looks like a good reading year already.
