Parataxis and Hypotaxis: What They Mean and Why It Matters (Hint: It's About the NIV)

Languages are distinguished by many features. One of these distinguishing features is the way that the syntax is typically arranged in a sentence. A paratactic language arranges independent clauses side by side and connects them with coordinating conjunctions (para--beside; taxon--order). Note the following representative sentence:

I am playing a game and I am kicking a ball at a net and I am receiving a point for every goal and I am not very good and I am not scoring many points and I am losing.   

This sentence does not reflect natural, contemporary English. We might forgive a 2nd-grade classroom essay that sounds like this, but were we to submit it for publication, it would not be accepted. It's too choppy.

A hypotactic language arranges sentences by subordinating several dependent clauses under a single independent clause, connecting them with a variety of devices such as adverbs, prepositions, conjunctions of both the coordinating and subordinating variety, participles, infinitives, etc. (hypo--under; taxon--order). Note the following representative sentence:

I am playing a game in which I receive a point whenever I kick a ball into a net; however, because I am not very good I am not scoring many points, whereupon I am losing. 

This sentence reflects better English than the first one, but it still isn't very good. (And please don't ask me to diagram it!) People just don't write like this today. True, this sentence can be understood as it stands. But it's not natural, contemporary English.

Perhaps a happy mediating rendition would look something like this:

I am playing a game in which I receive points for kicking a ball into a net. Because I am not very good I am not scoring many points. I am losing.

Of what value is this discussion? Precisely this: The Hebrew language is a highly paratactic language, Greek is extremely hypotactic, and American English is somewhere in between. And this means that not only the words, but also the sentence structure must be translated if one wants to create a natural English translation.

In order to render Hebrew into natural English, the relentless stream of ands (waw), must be interpreted and shaped into meaningfully complex sentences for maximum understanding. Sometimes the and becomes then or so or but or because. At other times the and becomes a semicolon or a period. Still other times the and is simply omitted as an unnecessary deterrent to understanding. The result is that the single Hebrew sentence that is Genesis 1, for instance, becomes a series of normal, readable paragraphs made from variegated English sentences.

In order to render Greek into natural English, the massive web of clauses, phrases, transitional and connecting devices must be untangled and simplified in order to qualify as excellent English. The result is that the single Greek sentence that is Ephesians 1:3-14, for instance, becomes a normal, readable paragraph of variegated English sentences.

In doing this, English translations subject themselves to two criticisms, both of which are valid, but both of which are also overstated:


First, they run the risk of excessive interpretation. In my first example I omitted all five ands, replacing them with other forms. There is a possibility that in so doing I failed to communicate the original intent. Perhaps rather than "Because I am not very good I am not scoring many points" the author intended to communicate "I am not very good because I am not scoring many points." These two sentences are not identical in intent, and in choosing the former, I am offering the likeliest meaning of this sentence. I might be wrong. But the reward of natural English is worth the risk.


Second, they run the risk of suppressing connectors that are pedantically explicit in the original languages. But explicit pedantry is not good English, and it is not necessary to understanding. For instance, in the complex sentence "I am not very good; therefore, I lost" the therefore may be removed without any loss of meaning. The sentence "I am not very good: I lost" communicates precisely the same intention as the earlier sentence--the only difference is that the the idea of result is implicit rather than explicit. Is there ever a risk of eliminating a connector and losing authorial intent? Absolutely. But the reward of natural English is worth the risk.

Does the NIV sometimes engage in "interpretation" or in "eliminating words"? Sure. Every translation does. The NIV just does these things with more self-conscious deliberation than other translations. But this does not make it a bad translation.

Pausing to Reflect

I've never embedded a video before, but I thought this one would give a fitting background for reading this post. It's a beautiful score that I actually paid money to buy, but I have to admit that it is perhaps the most vacuous text in the whole history of choral music. Just click play and read on.

My friend Rod Decker set off an unlikely firestorm a couple of days ago when he expressed approval of the decision by the NIV2011 translation committee to relegate the word Selah to a footnote (not to remove it, mind you, but to relegate it to a footnote). Rod rightly notes that English Bible translations offer little to the church when they insert untranslatable and non-propositional musical notations for which meaning been permanently and irreparably lost. Rod's argument makes good sense.

But the NIV-never crowd (hereafter NIVN) has chosen this issue as an unlikely hill on which to die. Jim Hamilton has sounded the clarion alarm that "NIV 2011 Removes Selah from the Biblical Text." Now Denny Burk has joined the alarm, arguing seriously that "even though no one is really sure what Selah means...it still figures in to the reader's interpretation of the text."

Really?

I'll admit that I've got mixed feelings about the NIV2011. I'm not a fan of the "singular they" and am a bit troubled that some of the material in the book of Proverbs that was intended for young men has been rendered more gender-inclusive than is wont. But I am very happy with a number of the improvements that have been made. It's an accurate translation constructed after painstaking exegesis by orthodox believers deeply committed to the inerrancy of Scripture. Not perfect by any means, but a solid contribution to the market.

This kind of sniping is frankly misplaced, and I have to believe that it will help the NIV rather than hurt it. The NIVN crowd is teetering perilously on the edge of irrelevancy.


EDIT: Rod Decker responds here.

Together for Church

In a post last week I suggested that the label churchman was more attractive to me than the label evangelical. The first question asked by a conscientious reader, naturally, was "what kind of churchman?" It was a good question and I agree that stipulation can be useful in this discussion. But my concern is that the very idea of ecclesiastical subscription as the primary vehicle for guarding the gospel has fallen on hard times--irrespective of the particular flavor one has in mind.

I take as my cue on this issue two Presbyterians, Carl Trueman and Darryl Hart. As a Baptist, I have deep-seated concerns about a handful of the teachings of their church, and I frankly couldn't share the Table with either one. But I think both of them are on to something in their advocacy of churchmanship and confessionalism as superior to evangelicalism as a means of guarding the Gospel.

The pillar and ground of the truth will never be T4G. The pillar and ground of the truth is the Church. And God has equipped the church as his appointed means of guarding the Gospel in the context of a holistic network of theological concerns collectively described in Scripture as "The Faith." I'm rather ambivalent about Gospel get-togethers. I don't see them as particularly dangerous, but I see their usefulness as singularly limited by the absence of the kinds of structure necessary to the guardianship of the faith. The church is in possession of this structure.

It's easy to adopt the label evangelical. It's handed out free just about everywhere. The label churchman is earned over time in the crucible of Christian experience. I covet the latter label more than the former. Getting together for the Gospel every two years undoubtedly has some value, but not nearly so much value as getting together for church every Sunday.