The Mistranslation that Keeps on Taking
Translating Scripture is a notoriously difficult enterprise. Not only can someone confront the challenge of rendering ancient idioms and vocabulary into a modern one, there is the perennial debate between dynamic equivalence and a literal translation of Sacred Scripture.
Personally, I feel the most literal translation is always the best, not only because that has mostly been the attitude of most translators until the 19th and 20th centuries, but also because if we take Biblical Inspiration as a real phenomenon, it is important to recognize that the text we are dealing with has a certain trans-temporal authority, and all interpreters and translators in a sense owe the text their reverent, humble homage. Also, I believe it is important to remember that Scripture is, due to the inspiration of the Spirit, alive. It is not a dead letter.
Even the question of textual variants, regional variations and copyist errors I think have some degree of participation in the consideration of faithful interpretation, because while there may be debate regarding the meaning of a certain word or text, I believe it is actually fruitful to allow the debate to manifest. One example of this in contemporary church is the push in so many languages to remove or edit the end of the Our Father: “and lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.” Every informed Christian knows God does not tempt us in the sense of leading us to sin. But God in a sense can put us to the test by allowing us to be tempted. The fault is not with the text, but with our limited understanding and interpretation of the verb “to tempt”. Much like the verb “to pray,” which disturbs Protestants so much when we say we pray to Saints, many forget that the verb “to pray” is not an activity confined to the divinity in the English tongue.
The inability to allow the finer distinctions of Holy Scripture to speak was evident again this weekend, in the marvelous Gospel of Saint Luke regarding the journey to Emmaus. The disciples famously are accompanied by Jesus on the road, but then are severely rebuked for their poor understanding of the Scriptures. After Jesus schools them, we remains in their presence until, after the breaking of the bread, “he vanished from their sight.” That it is precisely not what the verse says, and this error must be corrected.
Luke 24:31 states, Αυτων δε διηνοιχθησαν οι οφθαλμοι και επεγυωσαν αυτον, και αυτος αφαντος εγενετο απ’ αυτων. Auton de dienoichthesan hoi ophthalmoi kai epegnosan auton, kai autos aphanatos egeneto ap’ auton. To break this down a little, “kai” is the conjunctive “and”, “autos” in Koine Greek is typically translated “he”, and aphanatos, a masculine Greek adjective with an alpha privative, literally means “invisible.” Egeneto is the aorist indicative middle form of ginomai, which often means “become”. So let’s break down what it literally says: “He became invisible to them.” The verb is not “to vanish” or “to disappear.” The verb is “to become”. Become what? “Invisible to/from them”.
To say that Jesus “vanished” is to really undercut one of the biggest points of the Gospel regarding Christ on the Road to Emmaus, because it implies that Jesus is just popping in and out of the presence of the disciples. While he certainly did do that, such as in the reading on the upper room on Second Sunday of Easter (properties of the Resurrected Body called agility and subtlety), here Saint Luke is trying to communicate something crucial to us. If Jesus was simply made “invisible to their eyes”, what is the implication? The “thing” he left behind is the broken bread, the Eucharist. There is so much Eucharistology in the Resurrected appearances of Jesus, whether in his appearance by the Sea of Galilee, to the Road to Emmaus. Jesus is not only made known in the breaking of the bread: he remains with the disciples, although now invisible according to his physical form. The Greek of the Gospel of Luke conclusively supports the Eucharist as the True Presence of Christ, abiding with his Church until the End of the World.
We should also find the Road to Emmaus interesting in terms of the progression of the story, which has a liturgical style. The disciples begin on a journey; Jesus accompanies them, expounding upon the Law and the Prophets. Then he speaks about how these same voices spoke of him. Then Jesus receives the beautiful invitation to abide with his disciples and to break the bread with them. In that moment, he is recognized, but does not vanish on account of this; he remains. He did this, as Saint Thomas of Aquinas and others taught, to accustom the disciples and the Church at large to the manner of his presence to his Church until his Second Coming; as Saint Bernard of Clairveux said, in this ‘intermediate coming’ of Christ, Christ is among us in grace, sign and mystery. Yet he is nonetheless present. Jesus continues to be known by the Law and the Prophets, which we proclaim at most Masses, and then is revealed further by the epistles of the Apostles and the Gospels themselves. Then, the Priest in persona Christi expounds upon that same word, and then breaks the bread in the midst of the Church. The Road to the Emmaus is not only an historical encounter; it is a template for how the Church experiences the Risen Lord until he comes again in glory.
All the richness of this story is short-circuited by a desire or unwillingness to simply translate the text of the Scriptures. As far as I know and have been able to research, the 24th chapter of Luke does not have a contested tradition or a multiplicity of significant textual variants. This one seems pretty cut and dry to me.
We unfortunately live in an age where so many people believe they are at liberty to creatively translate, reinterpret, revise or otherwise alter some of our most cherished texts. Some gifted scholars do have a knack for expressing certain things in a manner that is both textually faithful and clearly understandable. We should be sympathetic and kind to sincere scholars who do try to walk this balance.
Yet, this one infelicitous English translation, edition after edition of the Lectionary, refuses to die. The details matter, and I hope that knowing this detail in greater depth helps enrich our appreciation of the Resurrection, the purpose of his appearances after the Resurrection, and his lovingkindness in abiding with us until he come again in glory.
