On Bibles that aren’t translations (Choosing a Bible, Part 2c)

Now that you understand formal vs functional equivalence, have heard my best argument for functional equivalence, and have discovered my personal bias for formal equivalence…

you’re ready for a bunny trail.

Right?

Of course right.

The categories that I’ve deliberately left out of my discussion of methods of translations are the one-man translation and the paraphrase.

The One-Man Translation

The most famous of one-man translations (perhaps the only one popularly available?) is Eugene Peterson’s The Message.

The Message is a translation, in that it was translated from the original languages (Greek, Hebrew, and Aramaic) by a scholar in those languages (Peterson). But it differs from most other translations in two important ways.

First The Message goes a step further than functional equivalence in trying to make the “tone” of the text closer to the original. This is called “idiomatic” translation. When we take into account the fact that the New Testament was written in Koine (or common) Greek rather than the more formal classical Greek, this mode of translation makes sense. The New Testament (at least) was written in the vernacular, not in the language of the elite but in the language of the common man–street language. The Message approximates this effect. This is great in one respect and not-so-great in another. Remember that the further we get from a word-for-word translation, the more opportunity there is for interpretation to be included in the translation. So The Message can contain a lot of interpretation.

The other distinct way in which The Message differs from other translations is that it is a translation undertaken by one man. While most Bible translation is done by a relatively large group of scholars, The Message was translated by just one scholar. This means that unlike other translations, The Message is prone to reflect the linguistic and theological strengths and weaknesses of its one translator. Where other translations have a system of checks and balances to correct for linguistic weaknesses and theological slants, a one-man translation does not.

Due to the high probability that The Message and other one-man translations (if they exist) contain personal interpretation, I do not believe that they are a good choice for personal study. The Message can be a useful tool, and is definitely an interesting read, but it should not be one’s primary “Bible”.

The Paraphrase

The second category of Bible that I haven’t yet discussed is the paraphrase. Paraphrases are, well…

How exactly does one describe a paraphrase?

A paraphrase is what you get when someone puts the Bible into their own words. Unlike with translations, where scholars work from the original languages and translate the original language into a modern language, paraphrases generally take an English translation as their starting point.

As a result, the paraphrase is VERY prone to interpretation, and lacks the scholarship that goes into creating a functionally-equivalent translation. Translators of a functional-equivalence Bible go to great pains to ensure that the way they are translating reflects the best scholarship on what the original audience would have understood from individual words, phrases, and pericopes. Paraphrasers have no such scholarship underlining their word and phrase choices. They are simply rephrasing the English Bible as they understand it–not attempting to translate it as it should have been or would have been understood by its original audience.

The primary example of a paraphrase is The Living Bible (not to be confused with the New Living Translation, which is truly a translation in the functional-equivalence camp).

My opinion toward paraphrases is similar to my opinion on the one-man translation. They can be interesting to read, but they should never be used as your primary “Bible”.

When choosing a Bible, much better to read the words of God than the words of man. Choose a translation (not a one-man translation or a paraphrase.)


A Case for Functional Equivalence (Choosing a Bible, Part 2b)

Being a cerebral sort with a high reading level and general affinity for both grammar and poetry, I gravitate towards translations that use formal equivalence. Many in my family do the same, for similar reasons (we’re rather a nerdy family with quite a few high “T” people.)

When my dad switched from the formal equivalent NASB to the functional equivalent TNIV, it sent shockwaves through the family. We would never have guessed, Dad being the most “T” of us all.

But Dad had a compelling case to make for his switch. He had been convinced after reading Gordon Fee’s How to Read the Bible for all it’s worth that the vocabulary and syntax of formal equivalence is a stumbling block that stands in the way of clear evangelistic presentation of the gospel. Apparently, Fee argues that believers who use formal equivalence for their daily reading, study, and preaching–even if they paraphrase Scripture–will still tend to use the same awkward language style in their presentation of the gospel, alienating their a-religious audience in the process.

This seems a bit far-fetched to someone who has grown up speaking of the “Grace of God” and “fear of God”, who is used to thinking of some people or things as “Bless-ed”, and who understands the word “begotten.” But to the average a-religious individual, those figures or speech and ways of expressing oneself are as foreign as if someone had come to me speaking in the Thees and Thous and sinneths of the KJV. I can understand the language of the KJV, but it is certainly not my language of fluency–and the use of thees and thous and sinneths in a message would distract me from the message. In the same way, these ways of speaking which I find so familiar are unfamiliar and distracting to the a-religious.

It’s a compelling argument-probably the most compelling I’ve ever heard–for the use of functional equivalence. Certainly, I can see the utility of a translation using functional equivalence for a seeker’s study or for a new believer’s personal devotional life. The idea that we speak what we read also makes a case for why mature believers might want to read and memorize from translations that use functional equivalence.

I haven’t switched to functional equivalence myself, but hearing my dad’s argument has forced me to rethink my evaluation of other people’s translational choices.

I am inclined to ascribe laziness to users of functional equivalence. This argument reminds me that their motivation might actually be love.

I say scholarship leads me to use formal equivalence. This argument reminds me that my motivation may actually be pride.


Form or function? (Choosing a Bible, Part 2)

When discussing philosophies of Biblical translations, there are two main classifications: formal equivalence and functional equivalence.

Formal equivalence attempts to maintain the “form” of the original language inasmuch as possible. This can also be described as a word-for-word translation (although that descriptor isn’t always technically accurate.)

Functional equivalence attempts to maintain the “function” of the original language inasmuch as possible. This can be described as a thought-for-thought translation. Functional equivalence is also sometimes termed “dynamic equivalence.”

The following chart summarizes a few of the differences between formal and functional equivalence in translation:

Formal Equivalence Functional Equivalence
Word-for-word Thought-for-thought
Words more “true to original” Tone more “true to original”
Syntax often more awkward Syntax often more natural
Generally higher reading level Generally lower reading level
Examples: NKJV, NASB, ESV Examples: NIV, TNIV, NLT

Why you should choose to use formal equivalence:

  • Lends itself well to deep personal study and rich word studies
  • Less opportunity for interpretation in translation
  • Generally uses more traditional terminology
  • May be more “poetic” (“Grace of God” rather than “God’s grace”)

Why you should not choose to use formal equivalence:

  • We’re not all scholars (especially not of Greek and Hebrew)
  • We’re not all readers (and formal equivalence does require more work to read and understand)

Why you should choose to use functional equivalence:

  • Easily read and understood
  • Lends itself well to devotional and evangelistic reading
  • Better captures tone of the original (which, since we aren’t all scholars, we might not be able to understand from a formal equivalence translation)

Why you should not choose to use functional equivalence:

  • It’s worthwhile to stretch our minds in the study of the Bible
  • The text is more likely to contain interpretation by the translator

Ultimately, both formal and functional equivalence can be useful modes for Bible translation–and are acceptable for use. I think it would benefit most believers to have at least one translation from each camp. Which type any given individual uses routinely and which type one uses as a reference probably varies a great deal based on one’s personal inclination towards cerebral or psychosocial expression. (Whether one is a “thinker” or a “feeler”, to use Myers-Briggs typology.)


On Choosing a Bible (Part 1)

A dozen and a quarter years ago, I was beginning my teen years and was in need of a good, hefty Bible to make me feel like a good, proper Christian.

An NIV Life Application Bible fit the bill–weighing in at approximately fifty billion pounds, it was my constant companion and sure proof of my spirituality.

Then, in my senior year of high school, I grew disillusioned with what I felt was the childish tone of the NIV. It just so happened that the Bible program I was in had me purchasing a number of different Bibles, so I found myself with a NASB Life Application Study Bible, a (second) NIV Life Application Study Bible, and a NKJV Thompson Chain Reference Study Bible.

The NKJV became my companion, probably for the sake of the non-applicable study notes.

Imagine, a study Bible that actually was about studying the Bible? (Do I sense some bitterness towards the–count them–three identical, expensive, and utterly useless Life Application Study Bibles?)

When I needed a smaller Bible for my trip to Sweden less than a year later, I chose a leather-bound NKJV.

A bit of a word-study nerd, I’d come to love the formal equivalence and old-fashioned syntax of the New King James. I was an NKJV girl, I proudly declared.


We had our little family squabbles over translations.

Half of us were squarely in the formal equivalence camp, favoring the translations that anal-retentive geeks everywhere adore. The other half didn’t really enter into the Bible translation conversation.

NASB vs. NKJV

That was our big argument.

Abridged or unabridged.

Until Dad (up to that point a true NASB lover) turned tails and suddenly started using the TNIV.

We were all aghast.

Not only was he going for a dynamic equivalence instead of a formal equivalence, he was choosing the infamous gender-neutral Bible.

Why would he do such a thing?


I contemplated getting another Bible off and on for about a year.

My Bible was getting a bit bedraggled. It had been dropped in the bathtub several times, dropped in the toilet once (was that TMI?), and squished into my shoulder bag more times than could be counted.

I started reading up on textual criticism and the pros and cons of the NU text versus the Majority Text. I became sold on the NU Text even as I appreciated how the additions made in the Majority text have (by the grace of God) little impact on things of doctrinal importance.

I started reading Reformed bloggers and started attending a solidly NASB church.

But spending money on a new Bible when I already had five or ten at home seemed wasteful–especially if I was purchasing a translation I already owned.

I held off. No new Bible for this girl.

That is, no new Bible until the second to last day of July, when I sat at my parent’s kitchen table, puzzling over the “so then” in James 1:19–

“So then, my beloved brethren, let every man be swift to hear, slow to speak, slow to wrath;” (NKJV)

The “so then” clearly indicated that this command was related back to what the author (James) had just said. But I couldn’t find any reasonable connection between the previous statement and the current command.

I read it over and over and over again.

I set down my Bible and paced a bit, took a bathroom break, got some cereal. I picked the Bible up again and re-read some more.

I got frustrated. James was just the most confusing book. I’d been struggling all week to figure out its theme.

My dad’s statement that James is like a New Testament Proverbs helped me quite a bit in interpreting the book altogether–but with that “so then” in there, there had to be a connection. Dad’s “Proverbs” trick couldn’t get me out of this one.

That’s when I saw the footnote: “NU Text reads Know This.”

There wasn’t a connection. There wasn’t supposed to be a connection. The “so then” doesn’t exist. That was a Majority-text addition not included in the best (NU-text) manuscripts.

I was getting a new Bible.


Lest you be completely confused by this post, have no fear. I intend this to be a lead in to several articles about choosing a Bible. My intent is to explain some of the jargon (and jokes) I’ve used in this article, hopefully in a way that will help you to understand some of the thought process that goes into wisely selecting a Bible translation (and a study Bible).