Putting Penn State In Its Place

Last night on John Stewart's The Daily Show, I viewed what was likely one of the boldest pieces of talk show history I have seen in my lifetime.  It was incredibly moving to me, even though it was an incredibly brief segment.  Basically, as you watch below, you will see John Stewart call the Penn State students out for what he reveals to be a display of selfish ignorance.  The last line, again, one of the most poignant statements I've ever heard on television was riveting.  He said this about the students who were rioting over coach Paterno losing his job, as for your Saturday game against Nebraska, "No one's going to take that away because obviously, you're young and that would be a traumatic experience, and we wouldn't want that memory to scar you for life."

The power of this comment is found in its irony.  The students took to the streets when Paterno got fired.  Really, though, the Penn State students should have been rioting over the fact that 40 counts of criminal activity, including the repeatedly covered-up child molestations by the coaching staff and school, scarred at least eight young boys for life.  What was taken away from them was their childhood innocence; what was taken from them was their hopes of being able to trust and let someone care for them.  These children were scarred for life!  That should NEVER be taken from a child.  Yet, these college students were rioting because they feel that "Coach Pa" should not have been fired.  That this firing or their football program getting shut down for the remainder of the season would somehow scar them for life is absurd.  It only reveals the sense of selfish entitlement and immaturity that is pervasive in this country and in our institutions of higher education.  The outrage is misplaced, in other words.  The sad thing is, the answer in remedying it appears to be nowhere in sight!

Watch the video:

Review of Runge's "Discourse Grammar of the Greek New Testament" Pt 12

In chapters 10-14, which make up the rest of Part 3 of Runge’s Discourse Grammar, eight specific types of framing devices are brought into view in addition a few general types.  In this review I will look at 4 specific, all of which are given in chapters 10-11:  Topical Frames, Temporal Frames, Spatial Frames, Conditional Frames, Comparative Frames and Reason/Result Frames.  I will deal with each of these in turn.

In the previous review I covered the topic of “frame of reference” which is basically the element of discourse that helps set the context for what is being said.  You can read more about that HERE.  With that idea of “frame of reference” in mind, we can more aptly look at the various types of frames Runge offers. 

The first type of frame is a Topical Frame, which is denoted with the open and closed bracket symbol and the superscripted letters TP ^[TP… ^TP].  Here, I am using the dots to denote the place where the content belongs.  Remember, when a writer/speaker chooses to use a specific frame, that writer/speaker is also choosing to convey certain meanings in certain ways.  When it comes to the TP, the composer has two primary functions in mind:  1) To highlight the introduction of a new participant or topic, or 2) To draw attention to a change in topics (210).  Chains of topic frames are found all throughout the NT and are “used to help structure the discourse by clearly delineating transitions from one topic to another” (210). 

For Runge, the TP nearly always (if not always) precedes the main verb.  Frequently, an author will place the subject in the TP.  Let me give an English example of my own and then a biblical example from Runge:

^[TP This ^TP] was built in 1960.

In this simple example we see the general subject “this” preceding the main verb “was built”.  The word “this” is forward positioned and therefore, receives emphasis.  Even more, it is “marked”.  Now, let me add more:

^[TP This ^TP] was built in 1960.  ^[TP Cell phones ^TP]were built much later.

Here you can see that a change in topic has taken place.  Notice that the subject is placed before the main verb “were built” and therefore it is marked and is receiving emphasis.  We also have a point/counterpoint (see earlier reviews) but I have left that unmarked so as not to be confusing.  Here is an example of TP that Runge gives from the Jn 1.2-3:

2 [TPοὗτοςTP] ἦν ἐν ἀρχῇ πρὸς τὸν θεόν.	3 [TPπάνταTP] διʼ αὐτοῦ ἐγένετο, καὶ [TPχωρὶς αὐτοῦTP] ἐγένετο οὐδὲ ἕν ὃ γέγονεν
2 [TPThis oneTP] was in the beginning with God.	3 [TPAll thingsTP] came into being through him, and [TPapart from himTP] not one thing came into being that has come into being.

Notice that in the movement from verse 2 to 3, we do not have a topic change but rather the introduction of a new participant.  In verse 2 the subject is “This one” (Jesus) and in verse 3 the new participant is “All things”.  Here, I don’t really agree with the second TP that Runge provides.  It seems to me that in the second TP we do not have the introduction of a new person, topic or a change in topic; “all things” and “not one thing” are the same thing!  So, I question this.  (I also question the TP Runge assigns to “the Word” in Jn 1.1, which precedes “was” but then the leaving of “God” which precedes “was” as an unmarked TP in the following part of the verse; the explanation he gives does not do it justice, in my view.  There seems to be some inconsistency in the method here.  Or, it is just not explained as well as it could be.  By the way, I also question Runge’s use of the TP in James 1.3-4 where 3 ends with “endurance” and 4 begins with “endurance.  It seems that we have a THL (Tail-Head Linkage) here, which intimately connects the two.  However, Runge suggests that verse 4 signals a new topic.  Again, I see some inconsistency in the method here; either that or it is just not explained well enough.)  I do think the TP is worth paying attention to but I think that the examples used in Runge’s grammar work against his own methodology at points.

The next type of Frame is a Temporal Frame (TM), which is marked with the symbol ^[TM…^TM].  Of all of the frames this may be the easiest one to spot.  Even so, there are more to them than might initially meet the eye.  You are probably already aware that placing TM at the beginning of a clause attracts attention to it.  You might not have been aware, however, that TMs are typically associated with changes of scene or pericope or that in a non-narrative setting, TMs “often highlight switches from now to how thing were or will be at some other point in time” (216).  TMs can also indicate the “resumption of another story or plot” (216).  So, here is an example of my own and then an example from the Bible, which Runge supplies.

^[TM Yesterday, the fifteenth day of October, at noon, when it started to rain ^TM] I woke up. 

As you can see, this is an incredibly easy TM to spot!  In some real sense, the TM is basically just modifying the main verb (woke up).  Temporal frames have to do with time, that is “when” something happened.  Let me draw this example out even more:

^[TM Yesterday, the fifteenth day of October, at noon, when it started to rain ^TM] I woke up.  However, ^[TM today, October sixteenth, the day after my birthday, it was around 8 am ^TM]  that I woke up.

You notice here that there are two TMs.  In fact, the TMs actually offer a sort of point/ counterpoint example, however, I’ve left that unmarked to avoid confusion.  Here the second TM denotes a switch from one point in time to another.  Notice also that the TMs are both placed before the main verb.  So, you can see how the TMs work.  It’s pretty simple.  Here’s a scriptural example provided by Runge:

1 [TM Ἐν ἔτει δὲ πεντεκαιδεκάτῳ τῆς ἡγεμονίας Τιβερίου Καίσαρος, ἡγεμονεύοντος Ποντίου Πιλάτου τῆς Ἰουδαίας, καὶ τετρααρχοῦντος τῆς Γαλιλαίας Ἡρῴδου, Φιλίππου δὲ τοῦ ἀδελφοῦ αὐτοῦ τετρααρχοῦντος τῆς Ἰτουραίας καὶ Τραχωνίτιδος χώρας, καὶ Λυσανίου τῆς Ἀβιληνῆς τετρααρχοῦντος, TM]	1 Now [TM in the fifteenth year of the reign of Tiberius Caesar, when Pontius Pilate was governor of Judea, and Herod was tetrarch of Galilee, and his brother Philip was tetrarch of the region of Iturea and Trachonitis, and Lysanias was tetrarch of Abilene,TM]
2 [TM ἐπὶ ἀρχιερέως Ἅννα καὶ Καϊάφα,TM] ἐγένετο ῥῆμα θεοῦ ἐπὶ Ἰωάννην τὸν Ζαχαρίου υἱὸν ἐν τῇ ἐρήμῳ.	2 [TM in the time of the high priest Annas and Caiaphas,TM] the word of God came to John the son of Zechariah in the wilderness.

Here, you can see how the first TM establishes a specific year in which the events occur while the second TM reveals a slight switch not necessarily to a different time, but within the time a new focus—from Pilate to Annas and Caiaphas.  Notice in each of these examples how the TM provides the framework or context for what is to follow!

The next type of frame to consider is the Spatial Frame (SP), which is denoted by ^[SP…^SP].  One way to recognize the SPs is that most of them “consist of a prepositional phrase placed in an initial position in the clause” (220).  As with the preceding frames, this serves the purpose of “attracting more attention to it than it otherwise would have received in its default position at the end of the clause…the frame makes changes in place or location stand out more” (220).  Like the TMs, the SPs are quite easy to spot; a good number of stories start begin by mentioning a time or place.  In illustrating this frame, let me do the usual and give an example of my own followed by an example from the Bible the Runge offers.

^[TM Once upon a time ^TM], ^[SPin a faraway land ^SP], there lived a monster.

You should recognize this familiar storyline right away!  You should also recognize that the TM and the SP are used together here.  They are both forward positioned and receive the initial attention.  However, they are not the most important elements of the sentence but rather, the monster is.  Indeed, the TM and the SP both get their main importance and meaning only as they relate to the monster.  Here’s another example:

^[SP In Kentucky ^SP], you can see blue grass.

Again, this is easy!  The place is clearly identified.  It fronts the main verb and receives forward positioning.  Now, the one thing we have to be careful with when it comes to SPs are that the places need not always be physical locations, they can also be abstract.  For example, it can refer to “in Christ” or “in the Spirit” or “in a dream” or any of the like.  Here is an example from the NT that Runge gives: 

13[TMνυνὶTM] δὲ [SPἐν Χριστῷ ἸησοῦSP] [TPὑμεῖς οἵ [TMποτεTM] ὄντες μακρὰνTP] ἐγενήθητε ἐγγὺς ἐν τῷ αἵματι τοῦ Χριστοῦ.

13But [TMnowTM] [SPin Christ JesusSP] [TPyou, the ones who [TMonceTM] were far away, TP] have become near by the blood of Christ.

You notice here that the TM precedes the SP.  You also notice that the SP is a more abstract concept as it does not refer to an actual physical location; it is more spiritual in meaning.  I don’t think I need to drag this example out; it is quite simple to catch; the NT is replete with this frame, so, pay attention and you’ll see it probably somewhere on every page!  The thing to remembers is that these frames, because they can be physical or abstract, can carry deep physical significance as well as deep theological significance.  Ernst Lohmeyer actually used the same SPs (though he didn’t call them that) in Mark’s account to denote both! 

The next frame of reference under review is the Conditional Frame (CE – Conditional Exceptive) which is denoted by ^[CE…^CE].  Runge asserts that CEs are found only in the epistles and reported speeches of the NT.  These frames are easy to notice because they are introduced by the conditional particles eva,n and eiv.  These particles “establish a specific condition that must be met before the main clause that follows holds true” (227).  Again, in typical fashion, let me give an example of my own followed by a biblical example provided by Runge.

^[CEIf I want to have good health ^CE], I need to eat right and exercise frequently.

You can recognize the conditionality of the initial dependent clause because of the “if”.  The “if” is paving the way for something that follows; they are establishing a specific condition that must be met before the following independent/main clause holds true!  The condition of good health can only be achieved, it can only be true, if I “eat right and exercise frequently”.  I trust you get the point.  Here is an example Runge gives from 1 Jn 1.6-8:

6 [CE Ἐὰν εἴπωμεν ὅτι κοινωνίαν ἔχομεν μετʼ αὐτοῦ καὶ ἐν τῷ σκότει περιπατῶμεν,CE] ψευδόμεθα καὶ οὐ ποιοῦμεν τὴν ἀλήθειαν·	6 [CE If we say that we have fellowship with him and walk in the darkness,CE] we lie and do not practice the truth.
7 [CE ἐὰν δὲ ἐν τῷ φωτὶ περιπατῶμεν ὡς αὐτός ἐστιν ἐν τῷ φωτί,CE] κοινωνίαν ἔχομεν μετʼ ἀλλήλων καὶ τὸ αἷμα Ἰησοῦ τοῦ υἱοῦ αὐτοῦ καθαρίζει ἡμᾶς ἀπὸ πάσης ἁμαρτίας.	7 But [CE if we walk in the light as he is in the light,CE] we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus his Son cleanses us from all sin.
8 [CE ἐὰν εἴπωμεν ὅτι ἁμαρτίαν οὐκ ἔχομεν,CE] ἑαυτοὺς πλανῶμεν καὶ ἡ ἀλήθεια οὐκ ἔστιν ἐν ἡμῖν.	8 [CE If we say that we do not have sin,CE] we deceive ourselves and the truth is not in us.

Notice that each of these verses begins with a CE!  Also notice that the specific conditionality is met with the information that follows.  “Each conditional frame of reference provides a state of affairs for which the main clause applies.  The prominence assigned to the condition alerts the reader that this must hold true before the main proposition holds true” (229).  Runge provides several more helpful examples in his grammar, which I will leave for you to check out.  This is pretty self-explanatory!  Let’s move on to the next frame.

The Comparative Frame (CP) is denoted by ^[CP…^CP].  CPs “establish a basis against which something in the main clause is compared.  The comparison typically describes the manner in which the main action should be done, with the frame setting the stage for what follows” (233).  Runge suggests that CPs should be thought of in terms of highlighting key ideas.  Thus, the CPs are not used for emphasis, they are used to draw attention to what is already most important or what is already a key idea.  The Greek constructions, says Runge, are often best rendered in English with rhetorical questions.  Let’s see how this works.  We’ll stick with the same format: my own example then Runge’s from the NT.

^[CPIn the same way that the sun is bright and beautiful ^CP], you are bright and beautiful.

You can see here how the initial dependent clause sets the stage for a comparison.  You can also see how the dependent clause is easily comparable to that which precedes it.  Now, an important thing to remember here, at least in my estimation, is that this is different than a point/ counterpoint example.  That should be pretty easy for you to notice, although, the difference between a comparison and a contrast is not always so easily distinguished!  Here’s an example from Lk 6.31:

Καὶ [CP καθὼς θέλετε ἵνα ποιῶσιν ὑμῖν οἱ ἄνθρωποι CP] ποιεῖτε αὐτοῖς ὁμοίως.

And [CP just as you want people to do to you, CP] do the same to them.

Right away you should notice the comparison.  Here, it is a comparison between actions.  One way to recognize this is to take note of recurring words.  In this case, in English, the recurring word is “do” which in Greek is poiw/sin / poiei/te.  There are many CPs in the NT and Runge offers at least a couple that are very complex and are worth your attention, however, I will not provide those examples here; I neither want to reproduce his grammar nor muddy the waters at this point any more than need be!

The final frame under review in this post is the Reason/Result Frame (RR), which is denoted by the symbol ^[RR… ^RR].  Now, it should be stated from the outset that within the NT, RRs “are relatively infrequent” (237).  Even so, we should say a few brief words about them.  Runge notes two important points:  1) They can be prepositional phrases that reiterate a proposition from the preceding context using a pronoun (e.g. dia. tou/to), or 2) They can also be subordinate clauses introduced by o[tior i[na (237).  As such, we typically find RRs at the end of a main clause.  This is because it is functioning to provide a result/reason for what follows.  Here’s an example of my own and then one from the NT that Runge points out.

^[TM When I was driving on the interstate ^TM], ^[RR because it was raining so hard ^RR], I had to pull over to the median.

Easy example, right?  You can see the TM that is forward position, which allows for attention-getting.  This is followed by the RR, that is, the reason that I had to pull over:  “because it was raining so hard.”  The amazing thing about these “frames” is that we use them all of the time, like I said at the beginning of this post.  However, many of us have just never had ways to describe them or what sort of effect they were causing; we know how to do it, we just don’t know how to explain or classify it.  Runge has helped us tremendously in this regard.  Here is an example from Jn 8.45 that he gives:

45 [TP ἐγὼ TP] δὲ [RR ὅτι τὴν ἀλήθειαν λέγω,RR] οὐ πιστεύετέ μοι.

“But [RR because [TPI TP] am telling the truth,RR] you do not believe me.”

Here, we have nothing but the pronoun placed in the forward position.  It is immediately followed by the postpositve and then the RR “because I am telling the truth”.  In short, the reason that people do not believe is precisely because he is telling the truth!  The author could have just said “But you do not believe me.”  However, the RR slowed down the discourse and gave the reason for why the people did not believe, namely, “because” he was the one telling them the truth; they didn’t want to hear it from him. 

These two chapters have been of great benefit to me, providing me with some descriptors to qualify what I or others are saying.  While there are portions of these chapters that raise a number of questions for me, I did not desire to raise all of those here, rather, I wanted to keep it simple.  Runge, of course, spells these things out in much greater detail.  At this point, there are 7 chapters left in the book, so, be on the lookout for at least a handful of more reviews.  If you still haven’t picked up Runge’s book, head over to Logos and do so.  In the meantime, check out the previous posts in the series by clicking the links below:

Review of Runge's "Discourse Grammar of the Greek New Testament" Pt 11

One of the trickiest parts of learning Greek is learning how to deal with word order.  Indeed, as English speakers, one of the most often made mistakes, one of the biggest barriers to not getting Greek, comes in the way of word order.  English readers and speakers are trained to analyze sentences by word order.  In Greek, however, there is a bit more flexibility when it comes to this topic.  Furthermore, it is the affixes in Greek—the prefixes, infixes and suffixes—that readers must first pay attention to.  Failure to take hold of this point will result in failure of being able to successfully navigate Greek. 

Having said that, we need not go to the extreme as many have done, in suggesting that word order in Greek is completely flexible and unimportant.  This is simply not true.  In Part 3 of his Discourse Grammar, Runge seeks to show why and how this is true.  He deals firstly with the concept of Information Structure (ch. 9), which I want to review in this post.

Basically, “Information Structure” (IS) carries the same meaning as “Word Order Analysis”.  One of the biggest challenge that Runge’s work poses for much of the work that has been done on word order analyses within NT studies is that it offers an answer that is different from the answer scholars typically default to, which is “stylistic variation”.  To put it differently, when most scholars cannot make sense of why some authors order words differently than others, they chalk it up to style; this author has a different style than that one.  For example, when authors deviate from the standard Verb-Subject-Object (VSO) word ordering pattern, many suggest that it is just some sort of stylistic variation.  Others even go as far as saying that there is NO word order in Greek.  Runge says that this bias comes from forcing English understandings back on to the Greek (182) because English contains a very rigid word order pattern.  So, Runge offers another solution here.

To begin, Runge suggests that the “attested variations” of authors/speakers “can be correlated to the content and objectives present in the discourse context” (186).  In other words, the variations are not just stylistic, across the board they can be shown to make points and distribute data.  He goes on to offer several ideas about how understanding IS assists us in making sense of this.  He begins with Mental Representations (MR).  A MR is like a filing cabinet in one’s head that stores data in specific folders.  When we need it, we’ll access it again. We don’t just memorize every single word of something we read or hear, we simply store related concepts in these folders which will help us recall what we’ve previously read or heard.  A “writer’s goal is to make sure that readers build their mental representation of the discourse in a way that accords with the writer’s intended message” (186).  In short, writers structure content with the objective of helping you store it in your mind.  This is why bad writing is so easy to forget!

Next, Runge visits the topic of Natural Information Flow (NIF).  NIF operates on the presupposition that a discourse begins first with what is most knowable to a hearer/reader and then moves on to what is lesser known.  If you simply started with things that people had no idea about disorientation and confusion would set it.  So, if I said “The white house down the street from me” you would have no clue as to what house I was talking about.  This is because I have not told you where I’m presently located.  However, if I said, “I’m on Pennsylvania Ave. in Washington D.C.  The white house down the street from me…” this would make sense; you would know that I am talking about the White House, where the president lives.  See, the NIF must begin with what is knowable first and then move to things lesser known. 

Here’s an example of NIF at work:  So far in this discussion of ISs we have reviewed Runge’s discussions of MRs and NIFs.  Now, if I were to walk up on the street and say that to someone they wouldn’t have a clue what I was talking about.  However, since you have been reading this article, the sentence makes sense to you.  If I wanted to walk up to a stranger and tell them these things, to be able to have a successful conversation, I would need to give them the preceding contents of this article.  The difference here is between “established information” and “non-established information”.  The established information always precedes the non-established in a discourse that makes sense; again, it MUST, otherwise, stories, paragraphs, sentences, clauses, etc. will not make sense!  Runge says, “Understanding the distinction between established and non-established information is critical to understanding information structure” (188).  This is the case because in the NT (and any discourse in general), “each clause will contain a mix of established and newly asserted information” (189).  This is the default strategy for understanding Greek word order!

However (you knew that was coming didn’t you?!?), there are cases when the default strategy gets interrupted or violated.  Recall the previous chapters of Runge where breaking from the norm allows for emphasis and prominence!  Runge builds on that concept here with a discussion of “two different preverbal positions that may or may not be filled in any given clause” (189).  He refers to these two preverbal positions and Position 1 (P1) and Position 2 (P2).  Easy enough!  P1 elements serve to establish a “new frame of reference” while P2 elements serve to bring into focus new information, which is typically the “most important” information (190).  It is the most important in a grammatical sense, not a meaning sense; it is most important because it is new, not because it has a greater meaning.  Remember, what is common comes first so that the new information, which comes second or last, has a context/setting that it makes sense in.  Thus, P1 is really a “frame of reference” while P2 refers to emphasis!

A great example that Runge gives for understanding P1 and P2 has to do with question and answer pairs.  This just makes sense doesn’t it?  When you ask a question, you are setting up a frame of reference, a context, that is P1.  When an answer is given, it is expected that it will contain new information or data that is emphasized.  I know that for many of us, this type of discussion about language can be difficult to grasp.  Yet, the fact is, we are really only putting descriptors on what you and I do all the time when we speak and write!  Here are some of my own examples, based off of Runge’s work:

Question:  How many people went? (P1) – This is the context or the frame of reference and it presupposes that I and some others went somewhere together.

Default Answer:  Two people went. (P2) – This would be a general or expected answer, but if we wanted to “mark” it or make it more specific, that is, to add emphasis, we use the next choice instead.

Marked Answer:  Yesterday, only ß (P2) two people went à(P2) to the basketball game. –

Notice here that we have emphasized information which is forward positioned (placed at the front of the sentence) and also emphasized information which is right indented (placed at the end of a sentence.  Both of these serve the purpose of bringing emphasis to the “default answer”.  They do this by “marking” it and in this case, marking it on both sides!

You can see how it works in question/answer pairs.  What about a regular sentence?  I think about Mk 5.1-2, which can be laid out this way:  “They went across the lake to the region of the Gerasenes (P1).  When Jesus got out of the boat (P2)…”  Notice in the first sentence that it is a group, including Jesus that is traveling in the boat; our context is set  (P1).  However, in the second sentence, emphasis is added to Jesus when Mark says, “When Jesus got out of the boat” (P2).  Mark could have said that they all got out of the boat but he does not.  He singles Jesus out.  Best of all, so that we can understand this new information, he has previously given us the context to do so.  Even more emphasis may be added in the following statement of 5.2:  “When Jesus got out of the boat (P2), a man with an evil spirit came from the tombs to meet him (P2).”  We can see the overall emphasis here.  The man with the evil spirit did not come to meet everyone in the boat, he came to meet Jesus!  This is exegetically important!  This is emphasis (p2) at work at its finest!

So, how does this all relate to the word order issue?  Well, for one, it tells us that the way information is ordered is dependent upon context!  At least one aspect of word order is that it must be arranged in a knowable manner for it to make sense to readers and hearers.  Certainly, when talking about word order, I think this is the best place Runge could have started.  It is very eye-opening to me to think in these terms when engaging the biblical text.  So, kudos to Runge for that!  Be on the lookout for the next installment of this review series.  Also, go on over to Logos and pick up your copy.  Finally, if you haven’t already, check out the reviews 1-10.

Review of Runge's Discourse Grammar of the Greek New Testament Pt 1

Review of Runge's Discourse Grammar of the Greek New Testament Pt 2

Review of Runge's Discourse Grammar of the Greek New Testament Pt 3

Review of Runge's Discourse Grammar of the Greek New Testament Pt 4

Review of Runge's Discourse Grammar of the Greek New Testament Pt 5

Review of Runge's Discourse Grammar of the Greek New Testament Pt 6

Review of Runge's Discourse Grammar of the Greek New Testament Pt 7

Review of Runge's Discourse Grammar of the Greek New Testament Pt 8

Review of Runge's Discourse Grammar of the Greek New Testament Pt 9

Review of Runge's Discourse Grammar of the Greek New Testament Pt 10

SBL App For Android

Okay, so for a minute there, I thought that us Android users were going to be left behind when it came to the SBL/AAR app, however, I'm glad that we haven't been.  SBL has just released the annual meeting app for android users, which you can get by simply scanning the barcode to the left.  You can also see more about the app HERE.  I must say, it is pretty sweet.  You can set your schedule, review the program, contact others, follow live tweets, etc.  Pretty rad!  Get it!

Review of Runge's "Discourse Grammar of the Greek New Testament" Pt 10

In the last chapter of part 2 of Runge’s Discourse Grammar, he reviews the concept of “Tail-Head Linkage” (THL).  He begins by saying:  “This device involves the repetition of some action from one clause at the beginning of the next clause, often as a circumstantial participial clause.  In other words, the ‘tail’ of one clause becomes the ‘head’ of the next.”  THL has “the effect of slowing down the flow of the discourse before something surprising or important” (163).  To represent THL, Runge uses the M symbol.

Now, while the previous paragraph may seem technical, I bet that most of any of us who speak English can discern when THL is at work.  Think of the following example of mine:  “So, yesterday I was driving down the road and the scariest thing happened.  I was listening to the radio when BOOM, I hit an animal.  MThe animal: M my neighbor’s dog, which had found its way to the highway.”  Notice that the second sentence ends with “I hit an animal” and that the next sentence, begins with the same idea and repetitiously uses the same word “animal”.  I could have just said “I hit an animal, my neighbor’s dog.”  However, to build surprise and suspense, I used THL by resupplying the same language. 

THL is kind of like a “knock-knock joke”.  Remember how this kind of joke works? 

Knock, knock.

Who’s there? 

Juno. 

M Juno who?

Juno that I love you?M

Now, after the person said “Who’s there?” the one answering could have just said “Juno that I love you” and left out the “Juno” and “Juno Who?” portions.  However, the joke loses its element of surprise when you do that.  The THL allows the joke to drag on just a bit longer so as to build up a hint of suspense through repetition, which then allows the punch line to work.  I trust you’re getting the point.

One of the best parts understanding the function of THL is, in my view, that it does away with the forced or default explanation among many scholars that it is a sure sign of redaction criticism.  Runge shows how such a conclusion is inherently fallacious.  I agree!  So, where does this show up in the New Testament (NT)?  One good example is Mk 14.42-43, which says:

“42 ivdou. o` paradidou,j h;ggiken) 43 Kai. euvqu.j     M e;ti auvtou/ lalou/ntoj M )))

 “Behold the arresters have come.”  And immediately M as he was still speaking M …

What we notice here is that in verse 42, Jesus is speaking; he says that his arresters are coming.  Then, in verse 43, we find the repetitive idea of speaking in the term lalou/ntoj, which is a participle.  Now, Mark did not need to say any of what we see here in verse 43!  He could have left it all out.  We already know that Jesus is speaking, it does not really need to be reiterated.  However, for the sake of slowing down the narrative and to build just a little bit of suspense, Mark chooses to use THL.  Again, he could have went directly from “Behold the arresters have come” to “Judas—one of the twelve—arrived”.  However, THL allowed the story to both slow down and build up at one and the same time.

I do not really need to belabor the point here; it should make sense.  THL is one of the reasons we love poetry and song and jokes; it is a suspense-building technique that also allows writers to add extra spice to what they are attempting to say.  If you listen to rap music, you will hear a lot of THL.  Next time you are listening to the president speak or your preacher deliver a sermon, pay attention for THL—we use it much more than we are aware!  Further, next time you’re reading scripture, see if you can spot this at work because when you do, it will give you a much more profound and deep respect for the text.  In the meantime, head on over to Logos and pick up your copy of Runge’s work!

Review of Runge's Discourse Grammar of the Greek New Testament Pt 1

Review of Runge's Discourse Grammar of the Greek New Testament Pt 2

Review of Runge's Discourse Grammar of the Greek New Testament Pt 3

Review of Runge's Discourse Grammar of the Greek New Testament Pt 4

Review of Runge's Discourse Grammar of the Greek New Testament Pt 5

Review of Runge's Discourse Grammar of the Greek New Testament Pt 6

Review of Runge's Discourse Grammar of the Greek New Testament Pt 7

Review of Runge's Discourse Grammar of the Greek New Testament Pt 8

Review of Runge's Discourse Grammar of the Greek New Testament Pt 9

Why Mark Driscoll Is Wrong (On Demons, Christians & Yoga)

Disclaimer: If you wish to comment or reply, all I ask is that you carefully read the entire post first!

Nearly one year ago, the self-avowed tough-guy, foul-mouthed pastor of Mars Hill Church in WA made the claim that yoga is demonic. A couple of days ago, he reiterated that claim and attempted to add backing to this suggestion. I want to suggest here, however, that Mark Driscoll is simply wrong on two particular points: 1) Yoga is not inherently demonic, and 2) Christians who practice yoga are not partaking in demonic acts.

The way I want to go about this is to draw attention to two logical fallacies that Driscoll commits in his recent article, namely, the Argumentum ad Baculum and also the Fallacy of Appealing to Experts. First, I want to explain, briefly, how both of those errors in logic are committed in general and then turn to Driscoll's essay in particular. Let me begin with the Argumentum ad Baculum. This fallacy has, at its core, the basis of using fear to persuade audiences to either take or avoid certain courses of action. In fact, the Latin word Baculum means "stick" and carries the connotation of striking fear in someone by threatening to beat them with a stick! Inherent to this fallacy is the notion of one-sidedness. In fact, in his article, Driscoll is clearly one-sided and suppresses the viewpoints that differ from his own by 1) Demonizing them, and 2) Suggesting that God will bring wrath on them. It is fear-driven and one-sided. Driscoll himself is aware of this, as we shall see, but attempts to side-step the matter.

The second error is the Fallacy of Appealing to Experts. This happens a lot, especially within it comes to biblical and theological issues. The mindset is: Appeal to a scholar who shares your view to prove your point. Or, logically: Expert A asserts point 1, therefore point 1 is true. Here's an example: Stephen Hawking says that God does not exist, therefore, it is true that God does not exist. The appeal to an expert does several things: 1) It makes the arguer seem like he/she has an inside expertise themselves, 2) It makes the naysayers appear foolish if they do not know the so-called "expert" or other experts, thereby, they will keep silent, and 3) When an expert is cited as the definitive answer, it is by default ruling out other views by other so-called experts. One helpful thing would be to ask how expert is defined, by what criteria and who gets to really do the defining.

So, at this point, I want to revisit Driscoll's article and show precisely how he is committing these two fallacies. It will actually be easiest to start with the appeal to experts first and then deal with the Argumentum ad Baculum. I should be clear from the start that, I also think that Driscoll commits several other fallacies as well, such as the Red Herring (false comparisons/contrasts) fallacies as well as a historical fallacy. I am not going to focus on those here, however.

Near the beginning of his post, Driscoll says this:

"In this lengthy post, I’ll define what yoga is, give a history of yoga, talk about the various forms of yoga, and take a look at yoga through the 'receive, reject, or redeem' matrix that I commonly use."

What I want you to see here is the fact that Driscoll is the one who gets to define yoga on his terms, explain his version of its history (we all know that any explanation of history is a reconstruction!) and runs it through the matrix of his own criteria for making judgments. From the start, Driscoll puts himself in the "expert" position. It is his definition, his reconstruction and his criteria that are what's right! In other words, he has indirectly and in a sleight-of-hand sort of way, painted himself as the expert. He tries to further substantiate this perception of expertise by appealing to other folks he believes to be experts.

So, immediately after putting himself in the expert position, he asks:

"What is Yoga?"

Can you guess what he does next? He appeals to an "expert". Here's what he says,

"According to Elliot Miller, noted New Age expert and editor of the Christian Research Journal..."

Did you notice that he even used the word "expert" in his sentence! I'd be bummed if you missed it! Okay, so, Driscoll, who is himself an expert on the issue of yoga, does not have his own definition of it. Is something fishy going on? I think so. Just after using Miller's definition, Driscoll says,

"as I’ll show, it’s nearly impossible to practice yoga and divorce it from its spiritual elements. This is a sentiment that is not just mine but also shared by prominent Hindu academics such as Professor Aseem Shukla, who wrote in The Washington Post..."

Ah, I see, another appeal to an expert! Driscoll has back-to-back appeals to "experts" right out of the gate. This one is a "prominent Hindu academic". What we have then, is an expert from the two religious spheres who Driscoll can use to back up his own expert claims. What Driscoll does not do here, is appeal to those who disagree with either his, Miller's or Shukla's views. Of course he wouldn't do that, why would he?

Okay, if he won't, then I will. There are other so-called experts such as Ekhart Tolle that would completely disagree. Now, don't get me wrong. I'm not promoting Tolle here. I'm simply suggesting that there are other so-called experts who disagree and that Driscoll should be more circumspect in who he cites. Some have even suggested that Pope John Paul II, (HERE) who had a robust theology of the body, are certainly not anti-yoga. I suppose that Driscoll could have also appealed to the fundamentalist, Southern Baptist preacher and teacher Albert Mohler, too. Mohler shares his view heartily HERE. Yet, at the fear of being labeled a fundamentalist himself, Driscoll abstains saying,

"And, for those unfamiliar with me, I’m no raging Christian fundamentalist. My most vocal critics tend to be from the fundamentalist tribe as I do drink alcohol, have been known to use strong language, and talk very frankly about the joys of married sex. I’m no prude, but I am a pastor."

So, we see an incredible selectivity in who Driscoll chooses to cite as experts! He will cite those whom he deems experts and who share his view and who will not make him look bad. Rhetorically, this is quite a smooth move!

I think you are getting the point by now and so, I really do not need to belabor it. To be sure, Driscoll does continue on with his appeals to other experts, which in turn, make him appear to be the expert. At least one more example is in order. Just a few lines after defining yoga, Driscoll gives a "history of yoga". Again, we must pay attention to the selectivity here! He is only citing those who bolster his point! In other words, instead of doing the hard work of research on his own, that is, digging into primary sources and first-hand accounts, he appeals to secondary sources and secondary literature, that is, modern literature and theory. In the very first line of this section he says,

"According to yoga historian Mark Singleton..."

Okay, okay, okay...we get it. I know how to do this too. I'm a PhD student. I write papers all the time. I research all the time. I engage "experts" on the Bible all the time. However, what I do that Driscoll doesn't, is visit primary sources in addition to secondary sources. If you read through this entire section of his article, what you will see, as clear as day, is Driscoll appealing to modern thinkers and then extrapolating his own theological judgments from others' historical ones. This is problematic in a number of ways, again, not least because he does not go to primary sources but because he simply makes a HUGE leap from history to theologizing or doctrinizing!

In looking at two yogic documents, not only did I find some very interesting definitions but some other very interesting philosophical/theological details. Here's a quote from a Yoga Sutra text,

"Work alone is your privilege, never the fruits thereof. Never let the fruits of action be your motive; and never cease to work. Work in the name of the Lord, abandoning selfish desires. Be not affected by success or failure. This equipoise is called Yoga.”

Here is another from the Kathopanishad,

"When the senses are stilled, when the mind is at rest, when the intellect wavers not- then, say the wise, is reached the highest stage. This steady control of the senses and mind has been defined as Yoga. He who attains it is free from delusion."

Notice how the very texts themselves, offer different definitions of yoga than Driscoll. So, which is the expert Driscoll or the original sources? Hmm...I think that's easy to understand.

Something much like this happens in sermons today too. Instead of understanding the original Greek of the New Testament, pastors will attach some foreign concept to a word or words and then historicize and theologize from "his" definition! So, they set themselves up as the expert! Driscoll has done that here! On a side note, I'm beginning to wonder if the fear of not being painted as a fundamentalist, the drive to be cool (talking bluntly about sex, cussing, wearing Affliction shirts and ripped jeans, etc.) and the self-posturing of himself as an expert might be suggestive of some sort of nasty complex? I don't know,maybe not. Anyway, I could keep driving this point home about selectivity in appealing to experts who share his theories and make him look good are problematic. Perhaps it is just poor research and theologizing.

Now, on to the next point, the Argumentum ad Baculum. In logic, the fallacy is laid out this way:

If A accepts Practice 1 as true, then Result 1 will happen. Result 1 is a punishment on A. Therefore, Practice 1 is false.

Let me use Driscoll's argument as an example:

If a so-called Christian (A) accepts yoga as okay (Practice 1), then they are worshiping demons (Result 1). Worshiping demons (Result 1) is actually a sin that merits God's wrath on the so-called Christian (A). Therefore, yoga (Practice 1) is false (or cannot be valid/true).

Do you see the problem with this logic? It is a sleight-of-hand move! It is such because what it does is that it attempts to, on the one hand, evoke fear in hearers and on the other hand, equate all yogic practices with the worship of demons (which appears to entail demon possession of some sort and at some level). I found a great comparative example on wikipedia. It goes like this:

If an employee (A) believes that investing in a company is a bad idea (Practice 1), then he will get fired (Result 1). Getting fired is a punishment (Result 1) on Employee (A). Therefore, believing that not investing in a certain company (Practice 1) is false (or cannot be valid/true).

In other words, in this analogy, getting fired is the boss's opinion. The boss can use his power and authority to fire the employee who disagrees. Or, the boss can flaunt his expertise over the employee's head, reminding the employee of his expertise and authority. When the boss does this, he strikes fear of job loss into the employee in hopes that the employee will back down and take a different course of action. I think that in this essay, this is precisely what Driscoll is doing. He sets himself up as the expert, finds a bunch of select experts who agree with him (while ignoring other experts) and then, tells readers: If you don't agree with me on this, you are worshiping with demons (and are demonic) and you deserve to and will meet God's wrath/punishment. Do you see how this is working?

But he doesn't just do this once, Driscoll does it again when appeals to the concept of "oneism". He says,

"Oneism—and by association, yoga—is antithetical to Christianity in a number of ways..."

Let's put it in logical terms:

If a so-called Christian (A) practices yoga, which is also oneism (Practice 1), then they are against Christianity (Result 1). Being against Christianity (Result 1) merits God's wrath on the so-called Christian (A). Therefore, practicing yoga/oneism (Practice 1) is false (or cannot be valid/true).
I could lay this out the same way for each of the items on the laundry list of yoga types that Driscoll proceeds to give. The fact is, all of this is a sleight-of-hand in rhetoric and logic on his part. It does not follow that just because someone practices yoga, they are 1) against Christianity, 2) for oneism, 3) worshiping with demons or worshiping demons, and 4) that they are inviting God's wrath upon themselves. The simple issue that Driscoll seems to be missing here has to do with motivations. Why are people doing this? What are their motivations? This is a question that seems to have been a part of Paul's ethical judgments as well as those of Jesus himself. Neither Jesus nor Paul used the threefold alliterated matrix that Driscoll suggests (Receive, Reject, Redeem). Paul suggests that as one under the Law of Christ, as one who operates under the freedom of the Spirit, motivations are significant.

Paul commended the Corinthians to have as their action for motivation the glorification of God (1 Cor 10.31). Jesus leveled harsh critiques against the religious elites of his day because, while showcased piety outwardly, inwardly they were spiritually and ethically bankrupt (Mt 15.8, etc.). I'm not going to launch into an exposition on the role of "motivation" in Christian decision-making and ethics here because others have done a fine job at that. I am simply attempting to bring that point to the surface once again. Paul is quite clear in Gal 6 that it is up to believers, those who have the Spirit, to examine their motivations before acting. Elsewhere he speaks of taking all thoughts captive (2 Cor 10.5), which is another way of saying "run them through your motivation filter before acting on them".

So, what we have here in Driscoll's article is a few deep logical fallacies mixed with zeal; he acts passionately but isn't necessarily reasoning logically or correctly. And before some of you rush to say "who needs logic when we have the Spirit" let me remind you that the Spirit isn't a labor saving device and that as believers, not only are we commanded to love God with our minds, but we're also exhorted to have the mind of Christ himself! God didn't give us a mind so we could check it at the door, no, he gave it to us so we could think critically; thinking can be a "logical act of worship" (Rom 12.1-2).

In conclusion, until Driscoll can ask every single believer their motivations for practicing the stretching/breathing practices of yoga, he should abstain from jumping to conclusions by way of logical fallacies. I say all this as one who has never, does not and probably will never practice yoga. I also say it as a Christian who knows people that do. Some of them tie no spiritual sense to it; they do it because it makes them feel healthier and less stressed. This is a good thing, I think. Others do say that during their yoga they meditate on Scripture or Christ or God's love for them. That sounds like a perfectly reasonable motivation to me. So, for those who are free in Christ, keep your motivations in check and keep doing what you're doing. Don't be bullied; you are free and need not be oppressed by legalists with bad logic, historicizing and theologizing. And you know what, while you need not adopt wholesale practices from other religions, you also need not be afraid of them or demonize them. Christians in this day and age of polarized religions can stand to be patient toward, educated about and attentive to other religions and their practices. Yes, that includes us all, even Mr. Driscoll.