Luke 16:22

Last month, after finding a citation to Luke 14:23 in a book of C.S. Lewis' letters, I read some chapters of Luke.  When I got to the account of the rich man and Lazarus in Luke 16, I noticed a detail in verse 22:  "The poor man died and was carried by the angels to Abraham's side.  The rich man also died and was buried."

This may be obvious, but I hadn't realized before that this verse is the very point where the situations of these two men change.  Lazarus' situation improves, but the rich man's worsens.  Throughout the account, there's a contrast between the two men, and the parallel structure in this verse highlights it:  after death, Lazarus goes up ("carried by the angels to Abraham's side"), but the rich man goes down ("buried").

Simul iustus et peccator

This is a bit tangential to the focus of this blog, but I thought I'd put it here anyway.

In the Worship Anew service for All Saints' Day, Rev. Dr. Ahlersmeyer mentioned the Latin phrase "simul iustus et peccator" (simultaneously righteous and sinner).  I'd heard this phrase before, but after I heard it during the All Saints' Day service, I realized that the specific parts of speech of iustus and peccator may have significance.

Iustus is a simple adjective, but peccator is a noun derived from the fourth principle part of the verb peccare (to sin).  (In the same way, factor is derived from facere, monitor from monēre, et cetera.)  To my mind, then, peccator has a greater sense of action than an adjective like iustus, and this fits with how our righteousness (or justification, to use a word that's more closely related etymologically) comes not from us, but as a gift from God.  We play no active role in it.

Mark 10:30

I'll have started Luke by the time this post is published, but at the time of writing, I've been reading Mark.  I found an instance of polysyndeton in Mark 10:30 (quoted with verse 29 for context):  "29 Jesus said, 'Truly, I say to you, there is no one who has left house or brothers or sisters or mother or father or children or lands, for my sake and for the gospel, 30 who will not receive a hundredfold now in this time, houses and brothers and sisters and mothers and children and lands, with persecutions, and in the age to come eternal life.'"

The function of the polysyndeton here seems to be simply to illustrate the abundance of this "hundredfold."

Matthew 9:12, Mark 2:17

Near the beginning of the month, I watched the Concordia University Wisconsin chapel service from 21 September:

This was the Feast Day of St. Matthew, and the reading was Matthew 9:9-13.  Not too long before this, I'd read the parallel account in Mark 2:13-17.  I felt that something was off about the structure of "'Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick'" (in verse 17), but it wasn't until hearing the same construction in Matthew (in verse 12) that I had some insight into it.

What had puzzled me is that there are some implied words in the second clause:  "Those who are sick [have need of a physician]."  I'd understood the meaning, of course; I simply hadn't understood what was going on in the grammar.

Consequently, I realized that such an ellipsis is significant.  In the same way that the phrase "those who are sick" requires the implied words in order to form a complete clause, the sick people need the treatment of a doctor in order to become healthy.

De toute

A number of times this year, I've found instances where my French New Testament adds "de toute" before every item in a list where there's only one modifier in the original Greek.

The first instance I found is in Ephesians 1:21:

au-dessus de toute domination, de toute autorité, de toute puissance, de toute dignité, et de tout nom qui se peut nommer, non seulement dans le siècles présent, mais encore dans le siècles à venir.

ὑπεράνω πάσης ἀρχῆς καὶ ἐξουσίας καὶ δυνάμεως καὶ κυριότητος καὶ παντὸς ὀνόματος ὀνομαζομένου οὐ μόνον ἐν τῷ αἰῶνι τούτῳ ἀλλὰ καὶ ἐν τῷ μέλλοντι

Far above all rule and authority and power and dominion, and above every name that is named, not only in this age but also in the one to come.

The French repeats the πάσης ("all") for each noun.  I'm not sure this is the best translation, but it does result in a stronger rhetorical effect that gives a sense of breadth or of number.

I found two other instances of this, both in Revelation.

Revelation 7:9:

Après cela, je regardai, et voici, il y avait une grand foule, que personne ne pouvait compter, de toute nation, de toute tribu, de tout peuple, et de toute langue.  Ils se tenaient devant le trône et devant l'agneau, revêtus de robes blanches, et des palmes dans leurs mains.

Μετὰ ταῦτα εἶδον καὶ ἰδοὺ ὄχλος πολὺς ὃν ἀριθμῆσαι αὐτὸν οὐδεὶς ἐδύνατο ἐκ παντὸς ἔθνους καὶ φυλῶν καὶ λαῶν καὶ γλωσσῶν ἑστῶτες ἐνώπιον τοῦ θρόνου καὶ ἐνώπιον τοῦ ἀρνίου, περιβεβλημένους στολὰς λευκὰς καὶ φοίνικες ἐν ταῖς χερσὶν αὐτῶν.

After this I looked, and behold, a great multitude that no one could number, from every nation, from all tribes and peoples and languages, standing before the throne and before the Lamb, clothed in white robes, with palm branches in their hands

Here, παντὸς ("every") is repeated.

Revelation 14:6

Je vis une autre ange qui volait par le milieu du ciel, ayant un Évangile éternal, pour l'annoncer aux habitants de la terre, à toute nation, à toute tribu, à toute langue, et à tout peuple.

Καὶ εἶδον ἄλλον ἄγγελον πετόμενον ἐν μεσουρανήματι ἔχοντα εὐαγγέλιον αἰώνιον εὐαγγελίσαι ἐπὶ τοὺς καθημένους ἐπὶ τῆς γῆς καὶ ἐπὶ πᾶν ἔθνος καὶ φυλὴν καὶ γλῶσσαν καὶ λαὸν

Then I saw another angel flying directly overhead, with an eternal gospel to proclaim to those who dwell on earth, to every nation and tribe and language and people.

Here, πᾶν ("every") is repeated.

On Every High Hill and under Every Green Tree

I read some chapters of 1 Kings a couple weeks ago (after seeing a citation of 1 Kings 11:3 in my edition of Chaucer's Canterbury Tales), and I came across the phrase "on every high hill and under every green tree" in 1 Kings 14:23.  A couple years ago, I'd run across a somewhat expanded version of this phrase in Ezekiel 6:13 ("on every high hill, on all the mountain-tops, under every green tree, and under every leafy oak, wherever they offered pleasing aroma to all their idols").  At the time, I knew this sounded familiar, and I eventually found what I was thinking of, in Jeremiah 2:20:  "on every high hill and under every green tree."

These constructions may not fit a strict definition of a merism, but the nearly opposite senses of "high" and "under" do provide a sense of breadth.  This is also indicated more clearly by "wherever" in the verse in Ezekiel.

At the time, I didn't consider this significant enough to write about, but since I found a third occurrence of this phrase, I thought I would note it.

Amos 4:6-11

I followed along in the Daily Dose of Hebrew's series on Amos in its original run (from September 2017 to August 2018), but in August this year, I started going through it again.  This time, I'm copying out the verses.

A couple weeks ago, I watched the videos for Amos 4:7, and I noticed a small feature in the middle part of the verse, covered in the second video:

וְהִמְטַרְתִּי עַל־עִיר אֶחָת וְעַל־עִיר אַחַת לֹא אַמְטִיר

In the ESV, this is translated as "I would send rain on one city, and send no rain on another city."  The word order between the Hebrew clauses, however, is inverted so that it's more like:  "I would send rain on one city, and on another city I would send no rain."  That the structure is flipt from one clause to the other illustrates these opposites.

As I continued on in transcribing verses, I noticed that this section of Amos exhibits epistrophe.

6 "I gave you cleanness of teeth in all your cities, and lack of bread in all your places, yet you did not return to me," declares the LORD.

7 "I also withheld the rain from you when there were yet three months to the harvest; I would send rain on one city, and send no rain on another city; one field would have rain, and the field on which it did not rain would wither; 8 so two or three cities would wander to another city to drink water, and would not be satisfied; yet you did not return to me," declares the LORD.

9 "I struck you with blight and mildew; your many gardens and your vineyards, your fig trees and your olive trees the locust devoured; yet you did not return to me," declares the LORD.

10 "I sent among you a pestilence after the manner of Egypt; I killed your young men with the sword, and carried away your horses, and I made the stench of your camp go up into your nostrils; yet you did not return to me," declares the LORD.

11 "I overthrew some of you, as when God overthrew Sodom and Gomorrah, and you were as a brand plucked out of the burning; yet you did not return to me," declares the LORD.

Each of these sections ends with "'yet you did not return to me,' declares the LORD."  I thought of three functions that the epistrophe has here.  In its most basic function, it illustrates simply the people's persistence in not returning.

It also illustrates an escalation.  After God's various actions, the response of not returning is the same, so in a way, this refrain of "'yet you did not return to me,' declares the LORD" acts as a measuring stick of all that God has done to get His people to return.

This epistrophe could even function as an example for the people.  In the same way that God keeps coming back to this same phrase, the people ought to return to Him.  It's as if He's demonstrating what to do even in the manner in which He describes how the people haven't done it.

Mark 6:8

I've been reading Mark lately, and a couple weeks ago, I noticed a small feature in 6:8:  "He [Jesus] charged them [the disciples] to take nothing for their journey except a staff - no bread, no bag, no money in their belts."

This list of items that the disciples are not to take exhibits asyndeton, and this lack of conjunctions mirrors their lack of provisions.

1 Peter 2:1

Originally, I wasn't going to write about this because I didn't think it was significant enough, but then I thought I would note it all the same.  A couple months ago, I read some chapters in 1 Peter.  The first verse of chapter 2 is "So put away all malice and all deceit and hypocrisy and envy and all slander."  The repeated "all" and repeated "and" lend a sense of entirety.

Matthew 25:31-46

Near the end of September, I read Matthew 25.  I noticed something about the verbs in verses 35-36 and 42-43, but it took me a few days before I fully realized what it was and could express it.

Jesus gives examples of the good works done by the righteous:  "35 '"For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, 36 I was naked and you clothed me, I was sick and you visited me, I was in prison and you came to me."'"  Verses 42-43 are similar but simply negated ("'"For I was hungry and you gave me no food..."'").

There are two general types of verbs here.  In each example, there's a stative verb ("was") and a dynamic verb ("gave," "welcomed," "clothed," "visited," and "came").  These dynamic verbs attract more attention, so even in just the types of verbs, the focus is on the works that the righteous do.

Psalm 135:6

A couple weeks ago, I was reading some Psalms and noticed a small feature in Psalm 135:6:  "Whatever the LORD pleases, he does, in heaven and on earth, in the seas and all deeps."  There's a vast geographic span in "in heaven and on earth, in the seas and all deeps," and this great range mirrors the breadth of that "whatever."

John 10:11

I've been following along in the Daily Dose of Greek's series on John.  Last week, I noticed an interesting feature specific to the Latin Vulgate translation of John 10:11:  "Ego sum pastor bonus bonus pastor animam suam dat pro ovibus."  In the Greek and in all of the other translations I'm following along in, the phrase "the good shepherd" is repeated in the same order:

ἐγώ εἰμι ὁ ποιμὴν ὁ καλός· ὁ ποιμὴν ὁ καλὸς τὴν ψυχὴν αὐτοῦ τίθησιν ὑπὲρ τῶν προβάτων.

I am the good shepherd.  The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep.

Ich bin der gute Hirte.  Der gute Hirte läßt sein Leben für die Schafe.

Je suis le bon berger.  Le bon berger donne sa vie pour ses brebis.

In the Latin, however, the first instance of "the good shepherd" is inverted so that "good" is a post-positive adjective:  "pastor bonus."  Such an inversion results in a chiasm:  "pastor bonus bonus pastor."  The word chiasm comes from Greek letter chi (χ), which resembles a cross.  Between this resemblance to a cross and the context here of the good shepherd's "lay[ing] down his life for the sheep," the Latin Vulgate translation seems to be hinting at the crucifixion.