Wednesday, December 21, 2005

Transmission Errors? -- No porbelm!

The following has been floating around the web for a while, and you've probably seen it elsewhere:

I cdnuolt blveiee taht I cluod aulaclty uesdnatnrd waht I was rdgnieg. The phaonmneal pweor of the hmuan mnid Aoccdrnig to rscheearch at Cmabrigde Uinervtisy, it deosn't mttaer in waht oredr the ltteers in a wrod are, the olny iprmoatnt tihng is taht the frist and lsat ltteer be in the rghit pclae. The rset can be a taotl mses and you can sitll raed it wouthit a porbelm. Tihs is bcuseae the huamn mnid deos not raed ervey lteter by istlef, but the wrod as a wlohe.

Undoubtedly this is a joke. I doubt this refers to an actual researcher at Cambridge.

However, unlike most jokes I hear (unless Lizzy tells them, for it's all in the telling!) I think this is a really good joke, for it makes me laugh every time I encounter it. But when a friend sent it to me yesterday, first I laughed again, and then it occurred to me that this joke could help in sorting out a fairly common misunderstanding that keeps popping up.

See if this helps:

Sometimes when talking about faith with a friend, we run into the oft repeated objection that "Scripture has been copied so many times... and errors creep in... it's like the telephone game, you know. After centuries of copying and recopying, we don't really know what the orginal Scriptures really said." These copying errors are called, in the field of textual criticism, "errors of transmission."

Of course errors of transmission occurred in the copying of Scriptures. It just isn't true that the Holy Spirit protected the copying of Scriptures from error. However, the problem is enormously overstated. The truth is that the difficulties that this presents are laughingly insignificant.

To put this into perspective, consider the countless alleged church bulletin bloopers that are passed around. Take for example this one: "Ushers will eat latecomers during the first hymn." What makes the joke is the obvious juxtaposition of what was intended to what was written. But don't miss the obvious: Nobody was fooled; The intention was obvious. There is no possibility that anybody, anywhere at anytime would imagine that the ushers were actually cannibals. Everyone would know immediately that the "s" was dropped from "seat" resulting in "eat." The alleged error in typing does not result in an error in understanding.

The fact of the matter is that the vast majority of errors in transmission are just like that: What was intended was obvious. Nobody is fooled.

Years ago, in a library in Dallas, I read a doctoral disseration that took just one verse of Scripture as a test case, and examined every known ancient manuscript of that verse. (We're talking about an enormous undertaking, as there are thousands of manuscripts collected and preserved in museums and collections around the world, many in the Vatican.) In the many hundreds of existing manuscripts, there were hundreds of transmission errors. But before long, as I looked at error after error after error, one reality became glaringly obvious: the utter insignificance of these errors.

To illustrate, suppose I render this sentence this way: "Too ilustraight, supose I render this very sentance this way." How many errors do you see? There are four misspelled words and one added word in the copy.

When I first read, in the introduction to that dissertation, that the researcher had discovered hundreds of transmissions of errors in just one verse of the New Testament, I began to realize the vast number of transmission errors that must be scattered throughout the entire Bible. I wondered whether we could trust anything we read. But as I worked my way through the hundreds of errors in just the one verse, I was forced to the same conclusion as the researcher: The vast majority of errors are utterly insignificant. It was immediately and indisputably obvious to any reader, in the vast majority of errors, exactly what the error was, and exactly what was intended: that "supose" is merely a mispelling for "suppose."

Let me underscore this reality: In the vast majority of transmission errors, there were no possibilities for error in understanding, because the error was an obvious error of spelling. In the tiny minority of errors where a mispelled word actually changed the meaning, there was no serious likelihood for confusion. The great majority of errors were obvious errors, either because we know how words are supposed to be spelled and this was a mispelling, or because we know what reality is like: It is obvious to any objective reader that ushers do not eat latecomers, they seat them.

There was another reality that became very obvious as one looked at these manuscripts: Although there were hundreds of errors among thousands of manuscripts, there were vastly more cases of correctly copied manuscripts than there were of copies with an error. This too made it obvious to the objective observer which was the corrrect rendering, and which was the mistake. I understood why my professor of textual criticism in grad school had said, "When you examine the manuscripts, you'll understand that the so-called problem of transmission error is grossly overstated. We are completely certain about 99% of the text, and very certain about the most of the other 1%."

The Good News we encounter in Scripture is not dependent on any one word, sentence, paragraph, passage or even on any one of the many books of Scripture. Our common faith comes to us through the many stories, parables, songs, riddles, proverbs, poems, and letters that continually reiterate the same themes. ("If I've told you once, I've told you a thousand times...")

I can think of no Christian belief that hangs on one word, sentence, or even book. Although I am not willing to give up any of the books of Scripture, I can think of no Christian belief that we would lose if one of those books were missing. Our understanding of the Good News, of God's passionate love for us, of the astonding nature of Jesus and what he did -- none of it depends on .01% of the text, but on the whole. "Errors of transmission," are quite frankly and finally, utterly and laughably insignificant.

goesI cdnuolt blveiee taht I cluod aulaclty uesdnatanrd waht I was rdanieg. ... yaeh and I awlyas thought slpeling was ipmorantt!!

Which means, in the final analysis, that we have every reason to read the Scriptures with confidence.

Amzanig huh?

Saturday, December 17, 2005

"... such a little angel!"

"Greetings, you who are highly favored! The Lord is with you."

Mary was greatly troubled at his words and wondered what kind of greeting this might be. – Luke 1.28-29


We’re accustomed to nice, well-mannered, and well-behaved angels. When a child is particularly well-behaved, we gush, “oh she’s such a little angel!” Our image of angels comes mostly from works of art, movies, TV shows, Christmas cards and pop songs:
She looks like an angel looks,
and she cooks like an angel cooks,
And my mind’s in a kind of whirl,
to my mind, she's my kind of girl.

My personal favorite angelic depiction is Cary Grant in The Bishop’s Wife.

But Mary knew well the Scriptures. And because she knew the Scriptures, she knew something about angels that we don’t know. Angels aren’t nice. They’re “terrible,” in the old sense of the word. The Scriptural accounts of angels are terrifying, dangerous, and often fatal. Their appearance announced the unexpected, uncontrollable and usually unwanted bursting of God into one’s life.

Mary knew that Angels never brought flowers or cake. They brought fire and sword and death, and if they spoke to you, it might be to send you into battle against overwhelming armies, with inadequate backup and poor equipment.

And so, quite rightly, “Mary was greatly troubled at his words and wondered what kind of greeting this might be.” Whatever greeting this might be, it undoubtedly meant that life, as Mary had always imagined it would be, would now be over.

And of course it was. “And a sword will pierce your own soul, too.” -- Luke 2.35

God’s coming to us is never settling, but profoundly unsettling. Upsetting. Unraveling. Penetrating to the heart of the matter. A bolt of lightening into our souls. “God with us” is less about God being on “our side” than bursting into our lives. God intends to disturb our slumber and shake our world. God’s gracious favor toward us, is the opposite of calming, for God is trying to awaken us. And will move heaven and earth to reach us.

The Lord be with you!

Thursday, December 15, 2005

"Emergent" Seminar

I'll be giving my seminar on the "Emerging Church" again on January 14th, at St Marks. Although this is the 5th time to share most of this material, we'll give a lot more time for discussion, questions, and what I think is the most interesting part of this: What can we do with it? What options might it hold for us, our future, and for our strategic planning?


Taking a Peek:
Looking into the Emerging, Postmodern church
from the perspective of the Established, Modern church
:
What Rick saw, heard and learned in his sabbatical studies -- and what it might mean for us in our future.

Saturday, January 14
9:30 AM – 2 PM

Lunch: $5, or bring your own lunch.
RSVP by email to Kathy
(Don't forget to tell her whether you want lunch or will bring your own)

For more information, click here

Friday, December 02, 2005

its hour come round at last

The darkness drops again; but now I know
That twenty centuries of stony sleep
Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?


-- W.B. Yeats: The Second Coming

To read the entire poem, click here.

So… how come Jesus hasn’t come back, yet?

Sometimes, parish rectors feel like they spend all their time explaining why the parish isn’t doing something yet. “Why don’t we have a nursery yet?” “Why don’t we have a Saturday night service yet?” “Why haven’t we fixed that raspy microphone yet?” “Why haven’t we replaced the organ yet?” Now that it’s Advent, I’m waiting for someone to ask, “So… how come Jesus hasn’t come back, yet?”

But at other times, parish rectors find their heads spinning at how fast things happen. My head is spinning a lot these days. Remember when we didn’t have a playground or pew cushions? Or when the print was so tiny in our pew Bibles we couldn’t read them? Or when our summer Habitat mission wasn’t one of the most amazing outreach efforts in our Diocese?

These, and many other things around St Marks are the results of your efforts just in the last few years. The clergy didn’t initiate, plan, create or accomplish any of these: you did.

Which is exactly how it is supposed to be. You are the church. Clergy exist only to help you be the church. The parish is not here to encourage the ministry of the clergy; just the opposite. The clergy are here to encourage the ministry of the parish.

The longer I am at St Marks, the more often I find myself amazed at what you are doing. And it is so exciting!

Just in the past two months people have said, “I’ll edit the newsletter.” “I’ll take on accounts payable.” “I’ll manage the kitchen.” “I’ll help figure out the sound system.” “Could we do the children’s sermon next week?” “We’ll handle getting the newsletter mailed.” “I’ll handle the altar flowers.” “I’ll coordinate funerals and weddings.” Do you know how exciting it is to see so many parishioners step forward? What fun!

Are there dozens of holes yet to be filled? Oh yes. But before pointing to the half empty glass, look how fast the glass is filling!

What if we run out of tasks? What if the word “yet” disappears altogether?

Hmmmm. Maybe one of you could look into this Advent question for us?

The Lord be with you!