Certainly for anyone who thinks that Biblical teaching is at least in some ways normative, or that the Bible is in some sense authoritative, or who merely claims to take the Bible seriously, it should be a fundamental principle that the Bible must be allowed to say exactly what it wants to say irrespective of the consequences. We may then freely reject what it says as being foolish, inconvenient, embarrassing, or offensive. But no good is served by acting dishonestly with Biblical texts, that is, turning or twisting or otherwise manipulating and forcing them in the direction of what we want them to say. To be sure, we do not often do this in a deliberate or even conscious way, though this renders the problem even more insidious than it might otherwise be.
Leopold Von Ranke’s famous maxim that the historian’s task is to “tell it like it was” may be ridiculed by those who doubt the possibility or even the desirability of objective history, but I believe Von Ranke was fundamentally correct. In the case of intellectual history, this involves understanding a thinker on his or her own terms, in his or her own context. It is coming to grips with a document’s meaning and penetrating what underlies the arguments being advanced. It is no about rehabilitating or castigating those long dead, but about grasping objectively what is being said and why. ¶ While objectivity is the historian’s goal, this does not mean that the historian is void of personal commitments, or that he or she must remain neutral as to the truth or falsity of the positions under consideration. The point is simply that history qua history is not about passing such judgments but is merely about getting the story straight, however the chips may fall. It is only after the position has been understood on its own terms and without bias that the historian may turn to evaluation and employ the fruits of his or her discovery in polemical or other theological application. But at that point we’ve moved beyond the historical task simpliciter and into something else — something wonderfully valuable and necessary, perhaps, but something different nonetheless.
Think of a flabby person covered with layers of fat. That is what your mind can become — flabby, covered with layers of fat till it becomes too dull and lazy to think, to observe, to explore, to discover. It loses its alertness, its aliveness, its flexibility and goes to sleep. Look around you and you will see almost everyone with minds like that: dull, asleep, protected by layers of fat, not wanting to be disturbed or questioned into wakefulness. ¶ What are these layers? Every belief that you hold, every conclusion you have reached about persons and things, every habit and every attachment. In your formative years you should have been helped to scrape off these layers and liberate your mind. Instead your society, your culture, which put these layers on your mind in the first place, has educated you to not even notice them, to go to sleep and let other people — the experts: your politicians, your cultural and religious leaders — do your thinking for you. So you are weighed down with the load of unexamined, unquestioned authority and tradition.
If we wish to communicate, then we must take time and trouble to learn our hearers’ use of languages so that they understand what we intend to convey. This is particularly difficult today for us as Christians when we want to use a world like God or guilt in a strictly defined sense rather than as a connotative word, because the concepts of these words
have changed universally. In a case like this, either we must try to find a synonymous word without a false connotation, or else we have to define the word at length when we use it, so that we make sure our hearer understands as fully as possible what we are conveying. I suggest that if the word (or phrase) we are in the habit of using is no more than an orthodox evangelical cliché which has become a technical term among Christians, then we should be willing to give it up
when we step outside our own narrow circle and talk to the people around us. If, on the other hand, the word is indispensable, such as the word God, then we should talk at sufficient length to make ourselves clear.
[T]he scientific symbol has become an important tool for writing increasingly lengthy formulae with greater accuracy. In other words, it has value according to the sharpness of its definition. But the new theology uses the concept of symbol in exactly the opposite way. The only thing the theological and scientific uses have in common is the word symbol. To the new theology, the usefulness of a symbol is in direct proportion to its obscurity. There is connotation, as in the word god, but there is no definition. The secret of the strength of neo-orthodoxy is that these religious symbols with a connotation of personality give an illusion of meaning, and as a consequence it appears to be more optimistic than secular existentialism.
[P]eople in our culture in general are already in the process of being accustomed to accept nondefined, contentless religious words and symbols, without any rational or historical control. Such words and symbols can be filled with the content of the moment. The words Jesus and Christ are the most ready for the manipulator. The phrase Jesus Christ has become a contentless banner which can be carried in any direction for sociological purposes. In other words, because the phrase Jesus Christ has been separated from true history and the content of Scripture, it can be used to trigger religiously motivated sociological actions directly contrary to the teaching of Christ.
Communication means that an idea which I have in my mind passes through my lips (or fingers, in most art forms) and reaches the other person’s mind. Adequate communication means that when it reaches the recipient’s
mind, it is substantially the same as when it left mine. This does not mean that it will be completely the same, but that he will nevertheless have substantially realized the point I wish to convey. The words that we use are only a tool for translating the ideas which we wish to communicate.
Every one knows that strictly speaking most words are almost untranslatable. It is always hard to find an exact equivalent for any word which has much meaning. There are no exact synonyms for such words in their own language and nothing precisely corresponding to them in another. But this difficulty is immensely increased when these words have any subtle aroma any particular charm any delicate sentiment attached to them. Then they become absolutely untranslatable. The very quality which distinguishes them disappears when they are transferred into a different phrase. This makes the desperate nature of the attempt to translate poetry from one language into another for a large part of the charm of poetic language lies in the subtle associations connected with each word. We read Virgil or Horace in the best English translations and wonder how they can ever have been considered such great writers. Their peculiar aroma has evaporated while they were being poured from one receptacle into another. The reverse takes place which was suggested in the parable for the old wine has burst the new bottles and the wine has been spilled.
Hence it happens that foreign words are so often transported bodily from one language into another or left untranslated when quoted for any purpose. Words which cannot be translated from the Latin, Greek, French, German are adopted into English and naturalized. Thus every language is enriched by the best phrases of every other. This no doubt often leads to pedantry conscious or unconscious. Foreign words are used when English ones would do as well or better So we have introduced the German word hand book when we already had a word with precisely the same meaning manual and with a better sound But generally these immigrations from foreign parts enrich our own literature.
Sometimes words are left untranslated because they seem untranslatable. Shakspeare has done this as when the dying Cæsar reproaches Brutus with the words. “And thou, too, Brutus!” Shakspeare has left it in the Latin Et tu, Brute! Then die Cæsar.” There seems something incongruous in putting a Latin and an English clause together in the same line But Shakspeare no doubt found something in the Latin to which no English words not even his own could do justice The English and German Bibles as translations are as nearly perfect as anything can be. I mean as a whole and in their impression on the mind.
There are errors no doubt which ought to be corrected but the simplicity pathos sublimity of the language cannot be surpassed In these great Teutonic tongues strength and tenderness blend as in the original writings Unfortunately the language which was spoken by Jesus and his disciples in Galilee has disappeared There is no gospel extant in the words which were uttered on the lake shore or in Capernaum A few fragments however of that old speech remain in the New Testament certain words so full of tender and heavenly associations that they were left untranslated in the Greek gospels and still remain untranslated in our English Testament Of these I will mention five four of thein uttered by Jesus and one by Mary Magdalene Two of these were expressions of power one was a cry of anguish another was an utterance of ununspeakable tenderness the last of the most ardent faith We read that Jairus the ruler of the synagogue came to Jesus earnestly praying him to come and heal his little daughter who was at the point of death Jesus comes to the house goes into the room with only three of his disciples Peter James and John and the father and mother of the little girl who was twelve years old Having put out those whom he found in the room he called saying Maid arise This is what Luke says who of course was not present Matthew