Lamb of God #1

The main point of McKnight’s book is that the word “gospel” to the apostles meant the story of Yeshua giving meaning to life and eternity. Gospel was not simply a message of personal salvation. Personal salvation is one of the things that happens when people listen to the gospel.

In this podcast I’m simply exploring one aspect of McKnight’s four-part outline of what the gospel is. He says it is:
(1) The Story of Israel
(2) The Story of Jesus
(3) The Plan of Salvation
(4) The Method of Persuasion

In considering the first part of McKnight’s outline, the gospel as the story of Israel, I am turning to Luke’s infancy narrative. Luke, whose gospel bears clear signs of relationship to Paul, presents Yeshua’s birth, the community into which he was born, and his early childhood as a culmination of the hopes of faithful Israelites.

In particular, I want to look at Mary’s Psalm in Luke 1:46-55. It has traditionally been called the Magnificat, from the Latin translation of the Bible. I will read Mary’s Psalm in the newly released Delitzsch Hebrew English version (DHE), where its relationship to the language of the Psalms and prophets is clarified by Delitzsch’s careful retranslation of the Greek text of Luke into Hebrew.

The overall concept of Mary’s Psalm is that of Hannah, the mother of the prophet Samuel, who spoke a psalm on the birth of her son. Hannah’s Psalm and Mary’s Psalm have the following ideas in common, though Luke does not exactly quote from 1 Samuel 2:

• Rejoice in God’s salvation.
• The strong are humbled.
• The lowly are raised up and empowered.
• Rich and poor are reversed.

One example of Delitzsch’s work to conform the New Testament language at times to the style of the Hebrew Bible is seen in Luke 1:47. Compare the ESV (English Standard Version) with the DHE:

“My spirit rejoices in God my Savior” (Luke 1:47, ESV).

“My spirit rejoices in the God of my salvation” (Luke 1:47, DHE).

Why the difference? Luke has used a phrase in his Greek gospel which will speak to his Greco-Roman audience. Roman emperors are hailed as saviors. The early believers used language regularly to refer to Yeshua as Lord and Savior, as opposed to the common idea of Caesar as Lord and Savior.

But Luke’s phrase is a departure from the idiom of the Hebrew Bible. While the noun Savior is used of God, the phrase “God my Savior” does not exist. Rather, we find six times in the Hebrew Bible the phrase “God of my salvation.” Delitzsch has taken Luke’s Greco-Roman shaped expression and cast it back into the customary language of the Bible.

The prophet Micah, for example, looks at the deplorable condition of his generation in Judah. He sees that the people are far from God and selfishness and cruelty reigns in the land. He knows his nation will be judged by God for the evil in his time. “Don’t rejoice over me,” he says, “when I fall . . . I will bear the indignation of the Lord because I have sinned against him.” And in this era of wickedness in Judah, Micah says, “I will look to the Lord, I will wait for the God of my salvation.”

So Mary in her psalm recognizes that the community of the faithful in Judea is small. People like her cousin Elisheva (Elizabeth) and Zechariah and Simeon and Anna, the godly characters depicted in Luke chapters 1 and 2, are the remnant of righteous Israel in an unrighteous time. Judgment is coming for Judah and by the time Luke writes his gospel, Jerusalem has already been laid waste.

But while Romans look to Caesar as Savior and while the clueless in Israel think the Savior has not come, Mary sees in the birth of her son the great act of the God of my salvation.

In verse 54, Mary calls Israel the Servant. Delitzsch’s translation opts to go strongly with the idea of Servant, whereas the Greek could also possibly be read as “child.” In the Servant songs of Isaiah, the Servant is first and foremost Israel. Yet as Israel is a blind and unfaithful servant of God, it becomes clear in Isaiah that the remnant of faithful in Israel are the ones who will fulfill that role. Mary and the community of righteous Israelites in Luke chapters 1 and 2 are that remnant. But ultimately Isaiah narrows it down even more to one Israelite who is the Servant, an Israelite who will suffer for the transgressions of his people.

And Luke’s audience knows well that Yeshua is ultimately the Servant.

More than that, he is the Servant whose coming was promised to the fathers. Mary recognizes in verses 54-55 that her child has arrived due to God remembering his compassions on Israel. Though there is much wickedness and though the people are not right, God has shown compassion and brought the Promised One.

It is because prior to everything God made an unbreakable promise to Abraham. The birth of Yeshua in Judea is the culmination of an age-old story. These events are not new. They are from days of old. A humble woman of Israel has become the mother of the Messiah, the bearer of the promise made to Abraham.

Luke’s gospel is written primarily to gentiles. Why, then, did he bother to give all this Jewish background and understanding? Didn’t Luke realize gentiles don’t need the story of Israel? Of course Luke did not realize something so false.

The gospel, as Scot McKnight says, is the story of Israel. It goes back even before that, before the promise to Abraham. It goes back to Adam. What has been lost will be recovered. The Abrahamic promise, with which Mary completes her psalm, is God’s promise to bring back what was lost in Adam’s day, and even more, to exceed the blessing of Eden.

The meaning of Yeshua cannot be separated from Israel’s story. Far from being irrelevant, people today need to read the larger story, to see Jesus as God’s compassion on Israel after many generations, the fulfiller of the promise to the fathers.

Luke understands that Israel’s role in all this is not finished. He more than hints in Mary’s Psalm that Yeshua’s identity as the Promised One of Israel is God’s compassion on Israel, meaning good news for Jewish people. It would have been easy for Luke to omit this in the gentile churches of his time. He did not omit it.

The apostolic understanding of Jesus and the gospel is not replacement. It is not a new religion. It is the expansion of the faith of Abraham, the story of Israel expanding in Yeshua, the Seed of Abraham. And in God’s compassions, no one is left behind. The nations should not boast nor should Israel. God is the salvation of Jew and gentile in one Savior for a consummation that we have yet to see but in which we greatly hope.

The Society of Biblical Literature Greek Text (minus accents):
’Αρχη του ’ευαγγελιου ’Ιησου χριστου.

Note: See below regarding the missing phrase “son of God.”

The Delitzsch Hebrew text (from the Delitzsch Hebrew Gospels, Vine of David):
תְּחִלַּת בְּשׂוֹרַת יֵשׁוּעַ הַמָּשִׁחַ בֶּן–הָאֱלֹהִים

Tekhillat besorat Yeshua HaMashiakh ben-haElohim.

The English Translation RSV:
The beginning of the gospel of Jesus Christ, the Son of God.

The English Translation DHE (Delitzsch Hebrew English, Vine of David):
The beginning of the good news of Yeshua the Mashiach, the son of God.

SHOULD “SON OF GOD” BE HERE?
Adela Yarbro Collins (Hermeneia Commentary) gives a compelling answer: the phrase “son of God” was almost certainly added by a scribe. It does exist in some good manuscripts (including Sinaiticus and Vaticanus). But it is virtually impossible to explain how a scribe would omit “son of God” on the introductory verse of the gospel, whereas it is easy to explain how a scribe would add “son of God” (since similar additions to add sanctity in depicting Yeshua happen in other places in the gospels).

If you are not used to the idea that manuscripts of the Bible vary in numerous details, a quick glance at the Wikipedia article, “Textual Variants in the New Testament,” should give you the idea.

WHAT DIFFERENCE DOES “SON OF GOD” MAKE?
Mark’s introductory verse is, arguably, a statement of his purpose throughout the gospel.

The way Mark tells the story of Yeshua, we see again and again the lofty but hidden identity of Yeshua. Every single pericope (scene) in Mark seems designed to explore who he is. And the titles “Messiah/Christ” and “Son of God” both fit well with Mark’s writing.

If we assume Mark 1:1 did not originally say “son of God,” this does not necessarily weaken the view that the introductory verse is a statement of purpose. For Mark, we can guess that the whole issue of Yeshua’s hidden but lofty identity is wrapped up in the word Christ or Messiah. His gospel is about Yeshua the Messiah (Jesus the Christ). And “son of God” is appropriate to the way he reveals Yeshua later.

DELITZSCH’S TRANSLATION OF “BEGINNING”
Delitzsch could have used reshit for beginning but opted for tekhillat instead. Some commentators think Mark was evoking the beginning of Genesis (bereshit, or “in the reshit“). Delitzsch chose instead tekhillat, a word used 21 times in the Hebrew Bible for the onset of a period of time.

This is rather more like Hosea 1:2 (“when the Lord began to speak through Hosea” or “when the Lord first spoke through Hosea”) than Genesis 1:1.

In other words. Delitzsch considered (presumably) and rejected the idea of an allusion to Genesis. He saw Mark 1:1, rather, as referring to the beginning of a new era, the era of the good news. Collins and some other commentators think “beginning” refers not just to the period covered in the book of Mark itself, but even beyond the end of Mark. The place where Mark picks up the story is the beginning of something new in the history of the world. It is tekhillat besorah, the beginning of the [era of] good news in Messiah.

BESORAH-GOSPEL-GOOD NEWS
In the Hebrew Bible, the word for tidings from a messenger can be neutral (good or bad tidings) or in some cases it seems to imply good tidings (even without the adjective good being used). This is an example of a confusing and vague connotation for a word in another language. If you were to ask, “Does besorah mean simply news or good news?” the answer would have to be, “It depends on context.”

Besorah is used 6 times in the Hebrew Bible and its verb form, mevasser, is used also 6 times.

There is something significant in that the earliest language describing the impact of Yeshua on the world (Mark and Paul as examples) uses besorah (“good news” or “tidings from a messenger”) and not simply davar (“word” or “message”). A word from a messenger is inherently important, about something crucial and perhaps even a matter of life or death. The story of Yeshua is not just any word or message. It is world changing, as in the inscription about Caesar Augustus at Priene in Asia Minor: “the birthday of the god was for the world the beginning of joyful tidings which have been proclaimed on his account” (cf. Daniel Harrington, Sacra Pagina commentary).

A form of the Greek euangelion translates the Hebrew mevasser of Isaiah 52:7 in the Septuagint (LXX). Isaiah 52:7 in the RSV reads, “How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of him who brings good tidings.”

“Gospel” is a word deriving from Middle English (God-spell) and seems to be based on the idea that hearing the story of Jesus can put you under the God-spell (change your life with divine power). It is one of those religious words we probably ought to use less often. It is one of many examples of perfectly normal words that have become confusing due to religious use (favor-grace, rescue-salvation, gospel-tidings).

CHRISTOU: NAME OR TITLE?
Delitzsch’s Hebrew translation puts the definite article into Yeshua HaMashiakh whereas the Greek text has not definite article (Iesou Christou). In other words, Delitzsch seeks to clarify Christ-Messiah as a title and downplay the possibility it came to be used like a name.

Mark can distinguish between the two kinds of usage. Compare Mark 1:1 with Mark 8:29:
1:1, Iesou Christou, Yeshua Messiah.
8:29, su ei ho Christos, you are the Messiah.

Collins thinks that “Christ” came to be used as a name in the early movement, though its roots clearly came from the title, “the Christ” or “the Messiah.”

EVALUATING DELITZSCH
Delitzsch has made some decisions with which I disagree. He opts to keep “son of God” in the verse in spite of the more likely explanation that it was added later. He opts to make “Messiah” and title and not reproduce it as a name, though evidence is to the contrary.

Still, all translation involves reproducing the original idea from one culture into a different one. In making a Jewish edition of the gospels in Hebrew, it is reasonable that Delitzsch would use “Messiah” in the more familiar Jewish manner.

Delitzsch has also made decisions with which I agree: using tekhillat for beginning instead of trying to evoke Genesis and using besorah for gospel/good-news.

SUMMARY
Mark 1:1 is statement of purpose, a statement about the identity of Yeshua, and a statement about the impact of Yeshua on the world. Mark’s purpose will be to show Yeshua the Nazarene as Yeshua Messiah (or Yeshua the Messiah). He will define “Messiah” by the things he shows Yeshua doing and saying.

Mark also makes a statement about Yeshua’s identity: he is worthy of the name Messiah.

And he makes a statement in this verse about the impact of Yeshua on the world: he is good tidings from heaven, a world changing figure whose life story begins a new era.

Here is how the RSV (Revised Standard Version) translates this saying of Yeshua:

The eye is the lamp of the body. So, if your eye is sound, your whole body will be full of light; but if your eye is not sound, your whole body will be full of darkness. If then the light in you is darkness, how great is the darkness!

For reasons I will argue below, this translation is definitely substandard.

In my opinion, the worst translation of the verse is the NET version (New English), though I do like a lot of things about the NET. But their books are all translated by different scholars with little consistency in translation philosophy. I think they did harm on this verse:

The eye is the lamp of the body. If then your eye is healthy, your whole body will be full of light. But if your eye is diseased, your whole body will be full of darkness. If then the light in you is darkness, how great is the darkness!

The CJB (Complete Jewish Bible and also the Jewish New Testament) does much better, but loses any illusion of close translation by paraphrasing:

‘The eye is the lamp of the body.’ So if you have a ‘good eye’ [that is, if you are generous] your whole body will be full of light; but if you have an ‘evil eye’ [if you are stingy] your whole body will be full of darkness. If, then, the light in you is darkness, how great is that darkness!

The nice thing about the CJB here is that the reader gets help understanding the idiom (the good eye = generosity) and this interpretation is, in my opinion as argued below, correct.

The strangest is the King James, but then perhaps in Elizabethan English “single” had some denotation I am not familiar with:

The light of the body is the eye: if therefore thine eye be single, thy whole body shall be full of light. But if thine eye be evil, thy whole body shall be full of darkness. If therefore the light that is in thee be darkness, how great is that darkness!

Here are some comments I have written about Matthew 6:22-23 and then I will talk about Delitzsch’s choice of Hebrew words in his translation and how the DHE helps readers see a meaning within the orbit of Jewish discussion and terminology (as it should be):

The saying about the eye as the lamp of the body is hard for moderns to grasp. It is evident that Yeshua, and the ancients, are thinking of the eye as giving light and not just receiving it. Yeshua combines the idea of bright eyes (a sign of goodness) with the opposing idea of an evil eye, one that curses and does not bless others (the evil eye is an idiom for a curse). Yeshua teaches his disciples that their eyes should be filled with generosity and devotion to good deeds. A person with shining eyes has an interior light, their whole being is good. So with the eyes we see the needs of others and bless, but with bad eyes, darkness issues from the body and continues the world’s curse.

Now, on the Delitzsch’s translation via the English rendering in the DHE:

The lamp of the body is the eye, and if your eye is whole, your entire body will be illuminated. But if your eye is evil, your entire body will be darkened — and if the light within you is darkened, how great is the darkness!

The DHE’s whole translates תמים or “without blemish.” In the preface to the DHE, the editors thought perhaps Delitzsch should have chosen a term more familiar from rabbinic writings (“beautiful eye” instead of “whole eye”). On the other hand, Delitzsch’s choice of “whole eye” relates the saying of Yeshua to the sacrificial terminology, the offerings of animals that are “whole” or “without blemish.”

As for “evil eye,” you are probably familiar with the idea of a person with an evil eye, one who has the ability to curse and looks at people in order to curse them. It does not matter whether the curse has any valid power behind it. The motive of an evil eye is enough to suggest a great darkness within us when we choose to wish others ill.

So, following the DHE, I think we see a great contrast, a moving lesson.

The generous person is “whole,” even “without blemish” before God. The one who denounces, speaks rudely, and wishes ill of others is filled with darkness.

Generosity erases many sins. Having an evil eye toward others erases many good deeds.

And the DHE helps us, in the limited way a translation can, as opposed to a commentary. Matthew 6:22-23 is another reason I use the DHE and value it.