A response to Don Carson and Allan Chapple
I am not by nature a grumpy person. I don’t often get very heated in debate or upset about things. You could even call me phlegmatic (love that word).
However, even the most laid back personality has pressure points. For me, it’s when the kids spill things at the dinner table, especially any form of milk drink. It sends me into a blustering and irrational rage. Imprecations burst forth onto the head of the unfortunate child (“Oh for heaven’s sake! Why don’t you just fling Milo all over the walls and be done with it!”). In fact, my intemperance at the point of spillage has now become a family joke, leading to much hilarity and name-calling on those rare occasions when it is my elbow that knocks over the glass.
I must confess, debates over Bible translations have never had this effect upon me. I have my views on which translations are better in which circumstances (views which regular and perceptive Briefing readers may have picked up by now), but it is not an issue I can manage to get very worked up about. It is important, to be sure, but not emotive.
I am fast coming to the conclusion that I am in the minority in this. Our brothers in the United States, in particular, seem often to be highly exercised on the subject of Bible translation. Learned (and not-so-learned) papers fly back and forth. Conferences are convened, resolutions passed, statements issued. To describe the debate as ‘vigorous’ would be an understatement. Much of the passion has been aroused over the subject of gender-inclusive language, and in particular by moves on the part of the International Bible Society to introduce a more ‘inclusive’ version of the NIV (first by floating and then abandoning the NIVI in the mid-90s, and then by announcing the TNIV in 2001).
In the midst of all this, the English Standard Version was published by Good News-Crossway Publishers, a smallish family-owned company based in Chicago. We at Matthias Media decided that the ESV was such a promising development that we would support its distribution here in Australia, and seek to promote its use among the Christian community. I wrote two short articles in The Briefing pointing out some of the advantages of the ESV (and then a longer essay discussing the issues more theoretically), and we also included the ESV in our advertising material and catalogues (in most cases copying and adapting the promotional material produced by Crossway).1
Little did I realize that in so doing I would be walking into a fight I was only dimly aware of. When Don Carson, whom I admire enormously and am still honoured to count as a friend, emailed me in late 2002 to let me know that he was about to ‘gently take me to the woodshed’ in an essay he was writing on Bible translation, I was quite unprepared for the vehemence of his argument.2
As I read Don’s essay, my face turning pale, I discovered that I was guilty of:
- “linguistic and even (in one particular) theological naiveté”
- being “hopelessly naïve”;
- “astonishing naiveté”
- being “shockingly ignorant of the most basic challenges facing translators”;
- “sweeping judgements” that are “linguistically indefensible” and “inexcusable”;
- mounting a “deceptive and manipulative” argument;
- displacing “reasoned discussion of translation principles by manipulative rhetoric”; and
- being part of a “reactionary wing that demonizes functional equivalence with occasionally insightful rhetoric, but is more often linguistically uninformed, is rarely balanced, and is sometimes shrill”.
In the civilized world of scholarly discussion, this is about as fruity as criticism gets. I felt as if I had walked into the middle of a Chicago street fight to ask directions, and been hit over the head with a baseball bat.
It is perhaps worth noting at this point that the rather intemperate tone of Don’s critique—which is most uncharacteristic of him—can fairly be seen to stem from the ongoing and heated debate in which he was engaged at the time in the United States. In this context, I think the popular-level Briefing articles that landed on his desk by airmail from Australia performed the same function that a red rag performs in a bull-ring.
It seems our promotion of the ESV had a similar, though not so explosive, effect on Allan Chapple, lecturer in New Testament at Trinity Theological College in Perth. His lengthy article in RTR (available elsewhere in this month’s web extra) was motivated not only by his disappointment with the ESV but with the claims made on its behalf by “its Australian promoters” (that’s us). In particular, Allan was concerned at what he saw as “unbalanced and unfair” criticisms of the NIV in our publicity material (p. 63). Like Don, Allan did me the kindness of showing me his article in advance of its publication.
I have already interacted to some extent with Allan’s article in the paper edition of this month’s Briefing, and I’ll also respond to some specific issues below, but first I’d like to make two important introductory points that apply to both critiques.
The first is that there is a great deal in both essays that is very helpful and wise. Both authors wish to minimize the ‘polarisation’ that seems to accompany the translation debate (particularly in North America), and to suggest that it is all too easy for both sides to make exaggerated and overly simplistic claims. Don’s essay devotes considerable space to discussing the limitations of ‘functional equivalence’, as well as to critiquing the rise of what he calls ‘linguistic conservatism’. Allan, likewise, in assessing the merits of the ESV provides a very intelligent and useful discussion of the relevant linguistic and theological issues.
Speaking personally, I found both pieces to be a timely warning against over-simplification and sloppiness in the way that ideas and arguments are expressed. Although I will suggest below that many of the specific criticisms made of material in The Briefing were rather harsh, I do take the point that ‘popular-level’ writing can easily descend into a less helpful ‘populism’. If any of my ESV-related articles crossed that line, then of course I regret it. Whether they did so or not, the reader will have to judge.
This brings me to a second introductory point, and that is the problem of genre and purpose.
Don’s essay is more than 15,000 words in length, with a further 3,000 words of endnotes, and is published in a collection of scholarly articles in honour of a well-known American academic (Ronald Youngblood). Allan’s article is 13,700 words long, with a further 3,000 words of footnotes, and is published in Reformed Theological Review, a much-esteemed academic journal.3 The articles they were critiquing appeared in The Briefing, a popular-level, general readership periodical, and were 1,500 words and 1,250 words long respectively (with no endnotes).4
Now, popular pieces written at this level can be rightly criticized for being flat wrong, or for being misleading or dishonest or muddleheaded, or for many other sins that afflict writers. Brevity is not an excuse for error. But it is less fair to criticize short, popular writing for making sweeping judgements or for not betraying the scholarly balance and reserve of academe, still less for lacking sophistication and nuance in argument.
Much of what Don criticizes me for is on this level. My sins are sins of omission, of not evincing a sufficient level of sophistication in my argumentation, and thus displaying that most shocking of sins: naiveté. (In the world of biblical scholarship, accusing someone of naiveté is a bit like saying, “You’re a big fat idiot”.)
Pulling apart short, popular-level articles on the basis that they do not tip their hat to all the theoretical issues involved displays a certain lack of perspective, or a lack of awareness of differences in genre. It would be like me blasting Don’s 15,000-word paper for its inexcusable lack of brevity and punch, or for its shockingly elitist vocabulary, or for its arrogant alienating of the average reader by the number and volume of endnotes. He is not writing for the average reader, nor should his essay be required to conform to the standards of that genre.
In Allan’s case, his article must create a precedent by being the first in RTR’s distinguished history to interact at a scholarly level with a catalogue (our annual ‘resource guide’ is footnoted no less than five times).
This lack of recognition by Don and Allan that they were interacting with material that was written on an entirely different level, in a different genre and with a different purpose was disappointing. (It was doubly disappointing because in a subsequent essay, I did discuss the issues at greater length and sophistication, bestowing praise on the NIV for its strengths, while expressing in more detail why I found the ESV a superior translation for general use.5 Neither Don nor Allan chose to interact with this more weighty essay, which was puzzling given that it was the only piece I had written on the subject which even remotely approached the level on which they were writing.)
This second introductory point addresses a great many of Don’s and Allan’s specific concerns. Most of the key criticisms involve a tendentious reading of the short Briefing articles (or promotional copy in catalogues), as if I were participating in the debate at an entirely different and more theoretical level, rather than writing brief pieces for a general readership. Let me give three examples.
Firstly, both Don and Allan offer critical comments about a sentence (in one of the short articles) in which I discuss the benefits of translating Greek words by the same English words where possible. In talking about how it is useful in Romans, for example, to use the English word ‘flesh’ consistently where possible (to translate the Greek sarx) I said the following:
‘Flesh’ is an important word in the rest of Romans, and its appearance in the opening verses is very significant. However, the NIV translates it ‘human nature’ in 1:4, and ‘sinful nature’ elsewhere in the book. Again, these translations are defensible in themselves, but they remove the connection between the ideas. They don’t allow the reader to build up an idea of what Paul means by ‘flesh’. (The italicized section is that criticized by Don and Allan.)
My mistake here, according to Don and Allan, is to fall into the erroneous and discredited view that ‘words’ and ‘ideas’ are the same thing—that the idea (or complex of ideas) associated with a particular word is always present everywhere the word is used; that words are like suitcases that carry their semantic range and associated conceptual baggage with them wherever they go. It is, in Don’s words, to “smuggle in ‘illegitimate totality transfer’ through the back door, and that is inexcusable”.6
It is possible, I suppose, to infer from my sentence that this is the view I hold, and that I had fallen into that error. But it is by no means an obvious, necessary, let alone charitable reading of the sentence in question. Given the popular level at which I was writing (where the danger of illegitimate totality transfer doesn’t tend to be at the forefront of the reader’s mind), it would be just as possible to read the passage as being a short, simple way of expressing something like the following: “Translating sarx consistently as ‘flesh’ helps the English reader to put together a picture of what this very significant, and somewhat difficult, word means in Pauline usage. It is a word that doesn’t neatly correspond with any single English word, and yet it is a repeated thematic marker for Paul throughout Romans, often referring to the sinful frailty and mortality of fallen human existence. By not switching back and forth between possible English alternatives, we allow the reader to see how Paul himself uses the word, what its semantic range is, and the different referents to which he applies it, thus helping the reader to understand, in any given context, the range of meanings that are in play. The consistent translation of sarx by ‘flesh’ also allows the reader of Romans to see the thematic connection between the introduction to the letter and its subsequent development as Romans unfolds (since word repetition is a common and important literary device for this purpose).”
These are the kinds of thoughts that lay behind the sentence, and which the sentence can reasonably be seen to reflect, especially given the popular nature of the genre. Were I to write that same sentence in an RTR article on linguistics, perhaps my credibility on the subject could more reasonably be called into question. As it is, it seems an unduly harsh interpretation of my meaning.
A second example: Don criticizes me for saying the following: “Better to have something simple, the NIV seems to think, even if it is not what the original text actually says”. Don comments as follows:
Wait a minute: this form of argument is deceptive and manipulative, for anyone with a high view of Scripture will always want to side with ‘what the original actually says’. But the original text does not actually say ‘flesh’ and ‘walk’ and the like; it says sarx and peripateo and the like, and the issue is how best to render such expressions. Payne’s assumption seems to be that the more direct translation is ‘what the original text actually says’. In fact, what the original text actually says is in Aramaic and Hebrew and Greek …
As a New Testament scholar, I am not worthy so much as to untie Don’s sandals, but I am aware that the text of the New Testament is in Greek, and the fact had not slipped my mind when penning that sentence. To talk about ‘what the text says’ or ‘what the original says’ is a very common shorthand way of referring to a direct or literal rendering of the Greek text into English. Don in fact uses the very same shorthand elsewhere in his essay where he says, “Most emphatically this does notgive us the right to change what the Bible actually says, as though the agendas of contemporary culture could ever have the right to domesticate Scripture” (n. 60). In context, his reference to “what the Bible actually says” is to the English translation of the text, not to the Greek or Hebrew. Is Don being manipulative and deceitful here? Not a bit. He’s simply employing a very common way of speaking about the Bible and its message. If he can be permitted to do so in a 15,000-word scholarly paper, might I not be permitted the same latitude in a 1500-word popular one, without incurring the charge of deceitful manipulation?
A third and final example: Don finds “untenable” my suggestion that the removal of ambiguities in translation “places the responsibility for interpretation into the hands of the translator rather than the reader”. He responds: “Surely we are not to return to the astonishing naiveté that thought that translation could be done without interpretation?”
To which I would say, “Surely you don’t think I’m suggesting that?” Only a rather hostile reading of my sentence could accuse me of saying so. At no point do I state or imply that translation does not involve interpretive decisions and trade-offs, nor that translating isn’t a complex and difficult task. (Indeed, I expressed precisely these thoughts in an earlier article entitled ‘Translating’ in Briefing #247.) As I think most Briefing readers would have picked up, my meaning was that where a number of possible and legitimate interpretations exist for a text, and this ambiguity can be retained in English, then a good translation tries to do so, rather than making that particular interpretive decision on behalf of the reader.
Again, I can only think that Don’s over-reading of me at this point, and his vehemence in ramming the accusation home, stem from the heat of the debate he was engaged in at the time in his own context. I think I may have arrived on his desk at the wrong time, and spilt milk all over it.
Conclusion
In combination with other material in this month’s Briefing, I think the above is a sufficient response to the issues that Don and Allan raise. I have not covered every single point, but to do so seems overly fussy (especially where it involves defending the wording of catalogues from the charge of speaking glowingly about the product they’re trying to sell).7
I suppose I should be flattered that eminent scholars should devote such time and energy to the critique of two short articles in The Briefing. However, I confess that I would have been more flattered still had Don and Allan made somewhat more allowance in their critiques for the context and genre in which the material appeared, acknowledged the other more serious writing I had done on the topic in the same journal, and been a little more generous in their assumptions about our meaning and intent.
Endnotes
1 As we pointed out in an earlier Briefing article (#283, p. 24), the circumstances by which Matthias Media became the Australian distributor for the ESV were somewhat unusual. We had followed with interest the development of the ESV project through our friendship with Crossway (they have until recently co-published some of our materials in the US), and had expressed a willingness to help Crossway with publicising the new translation through The Briefing. However, when it became apparent that, for various reasons, an affordable black-letter edition would not be released in Australia, we entreated our friends at Crossway to reconsider. Their response was to agree to print a cheaper black-letter edition if we, in return, would agree to buy the whole of the initial print run from them and distribute it Down Under. We agreed to do so, despite the financial risk involved, because we thought that the ESV showed enormous promise, and would be welcomed by many people in Australia—as indeed it was.
2 The essay was published as ‘The Limits of Functional Equivalence—and Other Limits, Too’ in The Challenge of Bible Translation, edited by Glen Scorgie, Mark Strauss and Steven Voth—see Briefing #306 for a review of this book by Graeme Goldsworthy.
3 I don’t mean by this that all 35,000 words were taken up with detailed critique of The Briefing! Both essays were dealing directly with the subject of Bible translation, at both a theoretical and practical level, discussing not only the general linguistic and theological issues, but also their application to the current debate about such translations as the ESV and the TNIV.
4 These articles are available as part of the web extra for this month.
5 ‘How close are we to the Bible?’, Briefing #287, also part of the web extra for this month.
6 p. 74; ‘illegitimate totality transfer’ is the label given to this error by James Barr in his landmark book, The Semantics of Biblical Language, published in 1961.
7 So as not to bore the reader with interminable examples, I have not responded to Don’s accusation of ‘theological naiveté’ in misusing, as he saw it, the doctrine of claritas Scripturae or the ‘perspicuity of Scripture’. My response would be along very similar lines to the three examples given above.