The Greek that is translated in English as “Here is the man” or “Behold the man” was translated in the Latin Vulgate translation of the 4th century as ecce homo.
“Ecce homo” has become to be known as an important sub-genre of Western Christian art of the 15th through the 17th century that shows the suffering Christ and again in the 20th century depicting images of human suffering in war and the holocaust.
It also is the title of Friedrich Nietzsche’s autobiography (publ. 1908).
“The term ‘the Word’ has a rich heritage, by way of both its Greek and Jewish backgrounds. For the Greeks who held to a theistic view of the universe, it could be understood as the means by which God reveals himself to the world, while among those who were pantheistic in outlook, the Word was the principle that held the world together and at the same time endowed men with the wisdom for living. In the Greek translation of the Old Testament (Septuagint), the Word could be used both of the means by which God had created the world (Ps 33:6) and through which he had revealed himself to the world (Jer 1:4; Ezek 1:3; Amos 3:1). Among certain of the Greek-speaking Jews of New Testament times, there was much speculation about the ‘wisdom’ of God, which God ‘made in the very beginning, at the first, before the world began’ (Prov 8:22-23). (…) By the time that John writes his Gospel, the Word is close to being recognized as a personal being, and it has roles relating to the manner in which God created the world and to the way in which God reveals himself to the world that he brought into being. Moffatt [whose English translation of the New Testament was published in 1913], realizing the difficulty in finding a term equivalent in meaning to the one used by John, transliterates the Greek term: ‘the Logos existed in the very beginning’ [see also Hart’s translation below or The Orthodox New Testament, 2000)]; while Phillips [New Testament translation published in 1958] at least makes an effort to give his translation meaning: ‘at the beginning God expressed himself.’
“Though the Greek term logos may be rendered ‘word,’ it would be wrong to think it indicates primarily a grammatical or lexical unit in a sentence. Greek has two other terms which primarily identify individual words, whether they occur in a list (as in a dictionary) or in a sentence. The term logos, though applicable to an individual word, is more accurately understood as an expression with meaning; that is, it is ‘a message,’ ‘a communication,’ and, as indicated, a type of ‘revelation.’ A literal translation, therefore, more or less equivalent to English ‘word,’ is frequently misleading.
“In some languages there are additional complications. For example, in some languages the term ‘word’ is feminine in gender, and therefore any reference to it must also be feminine [or neuter — see German below]. As a result, the possible use of pronouns in reference to Jesus Christ can be confusing. Furthermore, in many languages a term such as ‘word’ must be possessed. One cannot speak about ‘the word’ without indicating who spoke the word, since words do not exist apart from the persons who utter them.
“Because of these and other difficulties, many translators treat the term ‘Word’ or Logos as a title, and that is precisely what it is. The very fact that it is normally capitalized in English translations marks it as a title; but in many languages the fact of its being a title must be more clearly indicated by some explicit expression, for example, ‘the one who was called the Word’ [see Xicotepec De Juárez Totonac below] or ‘the one known as the Word’ [see German below] In this way the reader can understand from the beginning that ‘Word’ is to be understood as a designation for a person.
“Therefore, this first sentence in John 1:1 may be rendered ‘Before the world was created, the one who was known as the Word existed’ or ‘… the person called the Word existed.’ In languages which employ honorific forms it is particularly appropriate to use such an indication with the title ‘Word.’ Such a form immediately marks the designation as the title of deity or of a very important personage, depending, of course, upon the usage in the language in question.”
Translation for “Logos” include:
“Like many crucial terms [Tjukurnga] is thankfully untranslatable. Its possible meanings are: (1) story; (2) Dreaming or Law (with a capital; there is an emerging Aboriginal desire for this sense of the word not to be given an English equivalent any longer); (3) message; (4) news; (5) individual word; (6) what someone says, thing said; and (7) birthmark, wart, which is regarded as showing something that is distinct and personal.
“It seems that with tjukurpa [the root form of Tjukurnga] is not so much the untranslatability of Christian and Aboriginal ideas but the potential for a word such as this to release the controls and spin out in all sorts of unexpected direction. For what takes off here is precisely the ‘Word.’ Not only does tjukurpa designate the Word, the logos, the meaningful expression or creative principle — or indeed story, saying, message, news, birthmark, Law … — but it is also used at times for ‘parable’ (Mark 4:13 et al.), for the translation of ‘word’ elsewhere (Mark 4:14), and for ‘gospel’ itself. Thus, Mark 1:1 has Tjukurpa Palya, ‘good Tjukurpa‘ (with a capital!) for ‘gospel.’ (…) Once let loose, it is as though tjukurpa cannot stop, for the whole mini-Bible, comprising most of the New Testament and sections of the Hebrew Bible, is itself Tjukurpa Polya: Irititja munu Kuwaritja, ‘The good Tjukurpa: old and new.’ (Source: Boer 2008, p. 154ff.)
“There are other words that the learned translators of the West have in vain tried to render into rich tongues as French or Latin. They found obscure expressions for the common ‘word’ or ‘speech’ (…) It would seem that these words would present insurmountable difficulties for the translator in primitive languages. Missionaries of the Loyalty Islands could not find the word to translate ‘Word,’ nor have they imagined that there could be a corresponding term in the native language. They simply introduced the Greek word into the vocabulary, pronouncing it in the native fashion, ‘In the beginning the Logos’. These people are intelligent; and do not appreciate pronouncing words which make no sense whatsoever. However, when a Caledonian speaks French, he translates his thoughts as they seem to him the most adequate. He can easily express himself relative to the man who has conceived good things, has said them, or done them. He simply describes such a person as, ‘The word of this man is good’. Thought, speech, and action are all included in the New Caledonian term nô. In speaking of an adulterous man one may say, ‘He has done an evil word’. One may speak of a chief who does not think, order, or act correctly as, ‘His word is not good’. The expression ‘the Word of God’ is limited in our speech to meaning of the divine Scriptures, but in New Caledonian it includes the thoughts and acts of God, ‘God said and it was done’. The New Caledonian has no difficulty in seeing the Word becoming action, becoming flesh, the word becoming a physical reality. Our deceased colleague Laffay once said: ‘I prefer to read John in the Ajië rather than in French’.
The recent English New Testament translation by David Bentley Hart (2017), that uses the transliteration Logos for the Greek Λόγος, says this about its translation (p. 549ff.): “In certain special instances it is quite impossible for a translator to reduce [Λόγος] to a single word in English, or in any other tongue (though one standard Chinese version of the Bible renders logos in the prologue of John’s Gospel as 道 (dao), which is about as near as any translation could come to capturing the scope and depth of the word’s religious, philosophical, and metaphoric associations in those verses, while also carrying the additional meaning of “speech” or “discourse”).”
Dao 道, which developed into a central concept of classical Chinese philosophy, originally carried the meaning of “path” and “(main) road.” From there it developed into “leading” and “teaching” as well as “say” and “speak.”
As early as the 7th century BC, however, dao appears with the meaning “method.” With this and the derived meaning of “the (right) way” and “moral principle,” dao became one of the central concepts of the Confucian writings.
In Daoist writings (especially in the Daodejing ), dao goes far beyond the Confucian meaning to take on creative qualities.
With this new compendium of meaning, the term became suitable for numerous foreign religions to represent central points of their doctrine, including Buddhism (as a translation for bodhi — “enlightenment”), Judaism (similar to the Confucians as the “right [Jewish] way”), and Islam (likewise the “right [Muslim] way”).
The Jesuits, who had intensively dealt with Confucianism from the 16th century on, also took over dao as the “correct (Catholic) way,” and the so-called Figurists, a group of Jesuits in the 18th century who saw the Messianic figure of Jesus Christ outlined in Chinese history, went so far as to point to the existence of John’s Logos in the dao of Daodejing.
In later Catholic Bible translations, dao was rarely used as a translation for Logos; instead, the Latin Verbum (from the Latin Vulgate) was transliterated, or yan 言 — “language”, “meaning” — was used, usually with the prefix sheng 圣 — “holy” (also used by the Russian Orthodox Church).
Protestant translations, however, began to use dao as a translation for Logos in the 1830s and have largely retained this practice to this day.
Some voices went so far as to describe Logos and dao as a point of contact between Christianity and the Chinese religions. By its gradual shaping in Greek and Jewish philosophy, Logos had become an appropriate “word vessel.” Similarly, dao’s final formation in Daodejing had also assumed the necessary capacity to serve as a translation for Logos.
The origins of dao and Logos have some clear differences, not the least being the personal relationship of Logos as the Son of God with God the Father. But it is remarkable that using dao as the translation of Logos emulates John’s likely intention with the use of Logos: the central concept of the philosophical and religious ideas of the target culture was used to translate the central concept of Christian theology.
This was not possible in the case of European cultures, which for the most part have offered only translations such as Word or Verbum, terms without any prior philosophical or religious meaning. Only advanced civilizations like China — or ancient Greece — were able to accomplish that. (Summarized version of: Zetzsche, Jost. Aspekte der chinesischen Bibelübersetzung. R. Malek (ed.) Fallbeispiel China. Beiträge zur Religion, Theologie und Kirche im chinesischen Kontext. Nettetal: Steyler Verlag, 1996.)
Peng Kuo-Wei adds this perspective (in Noss / Houser, p. 885): “The Chinese term chosen for logos is not hua (‘word’ or ‘utterance’) but dao from which the term ‘Taoism’ is derived and which can denote a general principle, a way (concrete or abstract), or reason. Thus, Chinese readers can understand that the dao of God is not just words spoken by God, but it constitutes the guiding salvific principle underlying the whole biblical account, including his action in history and teaching and action of Jesus whom he sent. Jesus is the dao of God because his ministry, death and resurrection comprises the fulfillment and realization of God’s theological and ethical principles for humanity.”
For another use of dao in the Chinese Bible, see the Way).
The English translation by Sarah Ruden (2021) uses true account in John 1. She explains (p. lxiii): “Logos can mean merely ‘statement’ or ‘speech,’ but it also has lofty philosophical uses, especially in the opening of the Book of John, where it is probably connected to the Stoic conception of the divine reasoning posited to pervade the universe. The essential connotation here is not language but the lasting, indisputable, and morally cogent truth of numbers, as displayed in correct financial accounting: this is the most basic sense of logos.”
Geschrieben steht: “Im Anfang war das Wort!”
Hier stock ich schon! Wer hilft mir weiter fort?
Ich kann das Wort so hoch unmöglich schätzen,
Ich muß es anders übersetzen,
Wenn ich vom Geiste recht erleuchtet bin.
Geschrieben steht: Im Anfang war der Sinn.
Bedenke wohl die erste Zeile,
Daß deine Feder sich nicht übereile!
Ist es der Sinn, der alles wirkt und schafft?
Es sollte stehn: Im Anfang war die Kraft!
Doch, auch indem ich dieses niederschreibe,
Schon warnt mich was, daß ich dabei nicht bleibe.
Mir hilft der Geist! Auf einmal seh ich Rat
Und schreibe getrost: Im Anfang war die Tat!
It says: “In the beginning was the Word.”
Already I am stopped. It seems absurd.
The Word does not deserve the highest prize,
I must translate it otherwise
If I am well inspired and not blind.
It says: In the beginning was the Mind.
Ponder that first line, wait and see,
Lest you should write too hastily
Is mind the all-creating source?
It ought to say: In the beginning there was Force.
Yet something warns me as l grasp the pen,
That my translation must be changed again.
The spirit helps me. Now it is exact.
I write: In the beginning was the Act.
See also this devotion on YouVersion .
The word pun that Jesus makes in Matthew 16:18 in Greek (using similar words for “Peter” and “rock”: πετρος and πετρα) is lost in most languages (such as in English) but is naturally preserved in some languages, such as French (Pierre and pierre), Portuguese (Pedro and pedra), Italian (Pietro and pietra), Latin (Petrus and petram), Corsican (Petru and petra), Modern Greek (Πέτρος and πέτρα), and — to a lesser degree — in Spanish (Pedro and piedra) and in Romanian (Petru and piatră).
“In many languages it is not possible to repeat the same word, because the equivalent of Petros has become a personal name, while the equivalent of petra is a common noun, the gender of which may be different from that of the equivalent of Petros. The Italian linguistic situation seems at first sight to be very similar to the Greek: to translate Petros—petra we can use Pietro—pietra. But unfortunately this conveys a different meaning to the average Italian reader: first, because Pietro is now not a new nickname, but a common traditional personal name; and second, because pietra is a feminine noun similar in form to Pietro, but carrying no suggestion that the two have the same meaning. Indeed, Pietro, like ‘Peter’ and most personal names, carries no meaning at all for the average reader or speaker.
“The common language translators felt that it was possible to make the identification between Petros and petra explicit, and at the same time exploit the similarity between the two words. We thus translated: tu sei Pietro e su di te, come su una pietra, io costruirò la mia comunità [in the original Common Language Version: Chiesa] (‘you are Peter and on you, as on a rock, I will build my community [originally: ‘Church’]. Our te (‘you’) connected Pietro and pietra. while our come (‘as’) expressed the fact that the connection was based on an image. In this way we suggested the meaning of Pietro.”
Like the Peshitta translation in Syriac Aramaic (Classical Syriac) with the term ܟܹܐܦܵܐ (kēpā), the Neo-Aramaic languages of Assyrian and Chaldean use terms for both “Peter” and “rock” (and “Cephas”) that are identical (ܟܹܐܦܵܐ and كِيپَا, both pronounced kēpā) so the word pun is preserved in those translations as well. (Source: Ken Bunge)
In the German New Testament translation by Berger / Nord (publ. 1999), the meaning of the pun is somewhat recreated by its translation of Petrus, Felsenmann or “Peter, rock man.”
See also Cephas and this lectionary in The Christian Century.
The Hebrew that is translated as “stricken” or similar in many English translations was translated by the Latin Vulgate translation as quasi leprosum or “like a leper.” Most, if not all, Catholic translations into the 1950s used the Vulgate as their source text and therefore followed this translation — see the English Catholic Douay-Rheims version: we have thought him as it were a leper.
The translation was likely chosen because in other cases when the same Hebrew word is used, leprosy was implied.
In the middle ages this was interpreted as meaning that Jesus in fact had leprosy and that having leprosy was not a curse but a “Holy Disease.” (Source: Yancey 1995, p. 172f.)
See also leprosy / leprous
One of the more well-known Bible translation stories is the Latin translation in the Vulgate (4th century by St. Jerome of Stridon) that supposedly creates a pun with the translation of “evil” in the “tree of the knowledge of good and evil” (translated in the Vulgate as lignumque scientiae boni et mali) and the fruit that is mentioned in Genesis 3:3, 3:6 and 3:12. According to the story, the Hebrew word that is translated as “fruit” in English was translated as mālum (“apple”), thus creating a pun with the Latin word malum which is used in the form mali in the translation for the “tree of the knowledge of good and evil” (see above). This in turn, according to the story, created the connection between the “forbidden fruit” and the apple in art history (see below for a 16th century depiction by Lucas Cranach the Elder), anatomical terminology (“Adam’s apple” and similar expressions in many European languages for the laryngeal prominence) and the public imagination.
Alas, this turns out to be an urban myth. The Vulgate (as well as the older Vetus Latina) both use frūctus (“fruit”) in Genesis 3 for peri (פְרִי), the Hebrew word for fruit. While it’s possible that the use of malum in the tree of the knowledge of good and evil was implicitly understood as pointing to an apple, it’s not likely since there is a marked difference in pronunciation: /ˈmaː.lum/ (“apple”) vs. /ˈma.lum/ (“evil”). Maybe it’s more likely that the apple was the likely choice in the European imagination because of its prominence as were grapes, figs, pomegranates, or etrogs in the Jewish imagination.
With contributions by Seppo Sipilä, Reinier de Blois, and Harry Harm.
In Low German “fruit” is translated as Appeln or “apples” in Genesis 3:3 and 3:6 (translation by Johannes Jessen, publ. 1937, republ. 2006).
See also fruit.
The Greek that is translated in English versions as “hell” (or “Gehenna”) is translated (1) by borrowing a term from a trade or national language (this is done in a number of Indian languages in Latin America, which have borrowed Spanish “infierno” — from Latin “infernus”: “of the lower regions”), (2) by using an expression denoting judgment or punishment, e.g. “place of punishment” (Loma), “place of suffering” (Highland Totonac, San Blas Kuna) and (3) by describing a significant characteristic: (a) the presence of fire or burning, e.g. “place of fire” (Kipsigis, Mossi), “the large bonfire” (Shipibo-Conibo), or (b) the traditionally presumed location, e.g. “the lowest place” (a well-known term in Ngäbere), “the place inside” long used to designate hell, as a place inside the earth (Aymara). (Source for this and above: Bratcher / Nida)
In Noongar it is translated as Djinbaminyap or “Punishing place” (source: Warda-Kwabba Luke-Ang) and in Tagbanwa as “the fire which had no dying down” (source: Tagbanwa Back Translation).
The Mandarin Chinese dìyù (地獄 / 地狱), literally “(under) earth prison,” is a term that was adopted from Buddhist sources into early Catholic writings and later also by Protestant translators. (Source: Zetzsche 1996, p. 32)
Learn more on Bible Odyssey: Hell .
The Greek that is typically transliterated as “Beelzebul” in English used to be transliterated in English and most other languages with a long tradition in Bible translation as Beelzebub, going back to the Latin Vulgate translation that had used Beelzebub. St. Jerome likely had done that to correspond with the pronunciation of Baal Zebub (בַּעַל זְבוּב) of 2 Kings 1:2 where a Philistine god by that name is mentioned. The Hebrew name carries the derogative meaning “Baal (or: god) of flies” and is likely an ironic and humiliating misspelling of Baal Zebul with the meaning of “Baal (or: god) the Prince” (see Translation commentary on 2 Kings 1:2).
In popular German literature of the 14th through 17th century, the term “Beelzebock” was also used, a word with a similar sound, but with last and changed syllable carrying the meaning of “(billy) goat / ram,” the partial form of the devil in popular imagination. (Source: Jost Zetzsche — see also the sheep from the goats)
In languages that use Chinese characters, including Mandarin Chinese, Min Nan Chinese, Yue Chinese (Cantonese), or Hakka Chinese, the characters 別西卜 are used in Protestant translations (pronunciation in Mandarin: biéxību, in Cantonese: bit6 sai1 buk1, in Hakka phe̍t-sî-puk). That transliteration name has been used since at least 1850 in the Literary Chinese Delegates’ Version, likely because of the suitably negative meaning of the last character 卜 or “divination.” (The Catholic transliteration is 貝耳則步 / bèiěrzébù in Mandarin, without any particular meaning.)
In Western Bukidnon Manobo it is translated with Endedaman, the Manobo name for the ruler of the evil spirits (source: Western Bukidnon Manobo Back Translation) and in the German New Testament translation by Berger / Nord (publ. 1999) with Oberteufel or “chief devil.”
In Libras (Brazilian Sign Language) it is translated with a sign that combines the signs for “Baal” and “fly,” because of its meaning of “Baal (god) of flies.” (Source: Missão Kophós )
“Beelzebul” in Libras (source )
The Hebrew that is translated as “ornamented robe ” or similar in English is translated in Kim as mwaɗak or “multi-colored (robe),” following the traditional translation (Greek Septuagint: χιτῶνα ποικίλον; Latin Vulgate: tunicam polymitam; English King James/Authorised Version: coat of many colours; German Luther translation: bunter Rock etc.)
Learn more on Bible Odyssey: Joseph and His Clothing .