Transitions

I know I don't post much these days. I'd like to post more... I really would! There's been a lot of changes in the last five years or so. Here's a quick rundown— 

• 2018 (April): Kathy retired after working 27 years for the Kentucky Department of Education.
• 2018 (August) After the same number of years in Kentucky (where we originally moved so I could go to the Southern Baptist Theological Seminary in Louisville), we moved back to Louisiana to be closer to family. 
• 2019 (September): Kathy was diagnosed with breast cancer and underwent surgery (partial mastectomy) and radiation. She is cancer-free, while still undergoing treatment, and we are thankful. 
• 2019 (December): We were received into the Eastern Orthodox Church through baptism and chrismation. 
• 2020: COVID hit. No more needs to be said.
• 2021: We built a house in Benton, Louisiana, next to Kathy's mother, Dottie, so that Kathy could help take care of her as Dottie's health continued to decline.
• 2022 (February): Kathy's mother, Dottie, passed away.
• 2022 (November): After working as Technology Evangelist for Accordance Bible Software since 2014 (with part-time training seminars and conferences for a number of years on the side before that), I quit. 
• 2023 (August): I went back to school, working toward a Master of Theological Studies (General Track) degree at the Antiochian House of Studies.
• 2023 (October): I began a new job as Product Operations Specialist for Logos Bible Software. 

Whew! That's a lot in a short time. And for what it's worth, between school and work (plus 9 acres and two houses), I feel busier than ever. Nevertheless, I'd like to write in this space again, so I will try to update things here more often. 

Hold me to it. 

Skeletons in the Family Closet, Part Five: Prison Before Dishonor

Previous posts:

Part 1: The Grandfather I Never Knew

Part 2: A Shooting in Phillips County

Part 3: Grief Upon Grief

Part 4: Confronting the Abhorrent Truth

This is a post I should have written years ago. Sometime around 2016, my cousin Cheryl (we share the same grandfather, John Mansfield, but different grandmothers if you've been following the story) had done some additional research and made a startling new discovery about the events that unfold in my previous posts.

All of the intrigue and twists of this story came back into my life recently due to a series by reporter Ceilia Storey of the Arkansas Democrat-Gazette. She had come across the name Lester Yeager (the man who shot my great grandfather, William; married my great grandmother, Daisy; and was originally accused by my Aunt Beth of fathering her child) in writing another article. When Storey began researching Yeager, she came across century-old national news related to the century-old scandal as well as my blog posts linked above. 

Here are the four posts by Celia Storey related to Lester Yeager, recently published in the Arkansas Democrat-Gazette. The fourth installment mentions my blog and me. If you're not a subscriber to the Arkansas Democrat-Gazette, you will have to sign up; but you can get 8 weeks for $1 and cancel anytime. 

The woman they wouldn’t let into prison in 1923 Arkansas (Sept 17, 2023)

In crime-weary 1920s Arkansas, 2 governors let exonerated man linger in prison (Oct 1, 2023)

With Klan on the rise in 1920s, another Arkansas governor lets innocent deputy rot in prison (Oct 8, 2023)

Surprise evolves into dismay as Daisy Yeager’s descendant seeks 100-year-old truth (Oct 22, 2023)

So to recap: in the Spring of 1920, my great grandfather, William Porter Mansfield, dies in a gunfight with Phillips County, Arkansas, deputy Lester Yeager. With a claim of self defense, Yeager does not go to jail for killing my great grandfather. Beth, the 13-year-old daughter of William and Daisy is found to be pregnant. She points the finger at Lester Yeager as the father, and he is arrested in October, 1920, for "carnal abuse." Beth gives the baby up for adoption. For reasons that are still not entirely clear, my great grandmother Daisy marries Yeager in December of that year. Yeager is offered a plea deal of one year in prison if he will plead guilty to the charges. He refuses, claiming his innocence, and is sentenced the next year to 21 years in the state prison. 

When I last wrote about these events, over a decade ago, I thought this was the end of things. I assumed that Yeager died in prison. But as mentioned earlier, my cousin Cheryl unearthed new information a few years ago. If this story wasn't mind-blowing enough, there was still one more twist to be discovered. 

Fast forward to 1923. Daisy divorces Lester while he's still in prison. Soon thereafter, her daughter Beth makes a startling confession: Yeager wasn't the father of her child, after all. Rather, William--her own father--was. On William's deathbed, he had convinced the impressionable Beth to tell the world that Yeager was the father of the baby.

As reported in The Pittsburg Post, Beth's official retraction reads as follows:

I, Elizabeth Mansfield, make the following statement of my own volition, without threats or promises of reward. I was the prosecuting witness and the only witness in the case in which L. E. A. Yeager was convicted in the Phillips circuit court of the charge of carnal abuse and was sentenced to 21 years in the state penitentiary. It was solely my testimony that convicted Yeager of that charge. 

I did not testify to the truth at the time of the trial for the reason I had promised my father on his death bed that I would testify that Yeager was the guilty man.

The truth of the case is that my father was the father of my child and Yeager never had immoral relations with me at any time.

With Beth's retraction, the judge, prosecuting attorney, and 11 of the 12 jurors signed a petition for Yeager to be immediately pardoned and released from prison. This seems like a simple task. There was, however, a major problem: the current governor, T. C. McRae, and then his successor, Tom J. Terral, had both run on platforms promising no pardons.

In the meantime, Yeager, a model inmate, and with his accuser's retraction, had the full trust of the prison warden. He was the "trusty" at the gate for a period of time, allowing people in and out. He was given furloughs for work away from the prison. And he always came back. Yeager could have easily run and not returned. Odds are no one would have pursued him. However, he chose prison before dishonor. Perhaps it was his earlier occupation as a deputy sherriff that was so ingrained in Yeager that he refused to go against the due process of the law. 

Fortunately for Yeager, after Terral lost his re-election bid, he formally pardoned the innocent man on Christmas, 1926. Lester Yeager had spent 5 years in prison for a crime he didn't commit.

 

There are still lots of unanswered questions. Why did Daisy marry Lester to begin with? When I thought Yeager was the bad guy in all this, I often wondered if perhaps something was going on between Daisy and Lester and by being married, she couldn't be forced to testify against him. But this makes less sense now that we know he was not guilty. What was the context of their divorce? Perhaps with Yeager sentenced to prison for 21 years, perhaps she just needed to find someone with whom she could have a future and could bring income into the household. 

The ever-charismatic John, my grandfather, with Aubrey on the left and Beth on the right--around 1928The big question for me is what happened to the child put up for adoption. I'd like to eventually go back to Phillips County, Arkansas and pursue this question in the old courthouse records. Everyone involved is now long gone, so there should not be any objection for sake of privacy at this point. Interestingly, there are a number of photos from around this time of a family friend, Aubrey Tharp and her son, James, who was born (coincidentally) in 1920. Was James the son of Beth given up for adopton? I've got my DNA out there quite publicly in hopes that one day this mystery can be solved.

All of this needs more research, and then, I believe it would make quite the page-turner of a book. Stay tuned.

Bad Translation by Ignoring History: Romans 16:7 in the 2020 NASB

St. Andronicus on the left and St. Junia on the right.If you’ve never heard of Junia, you can’t really be faulted. She’s mentioned only once in the Bible, in Romans 16:7, among a series of greetings as the Apostle Paul closes his letter, a passage rarely heard preached in any church–

Greet Andronicus and Junia my kinfolk and fellow-prisoners, who are distinguished among the apostles and were in Christ before me. [my translation]

ἀσπάσασθε Ἀνδρόνικον καὶ Ἰουνίαν τοὺς συγγενεῖς μου καὶ συναιχμαλώτους μου, οἵτινές εἰσιν ἐπίσημοι ἐν τοῖς ἀποστόλοις, οἳ καὶ πρὸ ἐμοῦ γεγόνασιν ἐν Χριστῷ.

Moreover, if you look at this verse in certain Bible translations (RSV, ’77 & ’95 NASB, and ’84 NIV among others), you may note that you don’t even see the name Junia. Your Bible may read “Andronicus and Junias,” both of which are male names. I won’t go into the details of the debate over where a Greek accent is placed to determine if the name in question here is male or female. Suffice it to say, these days, most modern translations of the Bible correctly use the female name Junia. It’s her status as an apostle that for some readers is still a question.

Historically, the reason a lot of Bible readers have stumbled over this verse has to do with their inability to reconcile the idea that a woman could be referred to as an apostle. So, this year the Lockman Foundation released its newest (2020) revision of the New American Standard Bible. Now, overall, in what I’ve read so far, I’ve found the 2020 edition of the NASB to be an improvement over the 1977 and 1995 editions. 

However, it’s very interesting that although the 2020 NASB finally gets Junia’s name and gender right, it does so at the cost of her apostleship. 

1995 NASB	2020 NASB
Greet Andronicus and Junias, my kinsmen and my fellow prisoners, who are outstanding among the apostles, who also were in Christ before me.	Greet Andronicus and Junia, my kinsfolk and my fellow prisoners, who are outstanding in the view of the apostles, who also were in Christ before me. [emphasis added]

For those unfamiliar with the New American Standard Bible, it finds its place among the myriads of English Bible versions as a fairly literal (formal equivalent) translation read primarily by conservative Protestant Evangelicals. Generally speaking, this is not a group whose theology would have room for a female apostle. Moreover, the NASB is known for using as few English words as possible to translate the biblical languages, often placing supposed added words in italics (an unfortunate method which often results in readers giving emphasis to these “added” words that are italicized).

Therefore, I find it ironic that the 2020 NASB uses a four-word phrase “in the view of” for one Greek word ἐν/en, a Greek preposition more properly—and formerly in the 1995 NASB—translated as among. Worse, they broke their own rules by not even using italics for all these extra added words!

The four-word phrase "in the view of" removes the possibility that Paul is calling Junia an apostle. Rather, she becomes part of a couple (with her husband Andronicus) that is highly thought of by the other apostles. Changing from the word "among" to "in the view of" is highly interpretive and evidently fits the theology of the NASB translation committee.

The answer to this issue—and how the verse should actually be translated—can be determined not by linguistics or theology but by paying attention to history. Unfortunately, history is something that much of contemporary biblical academia often ignores in this kind of debate. And ignoring the history behind the person of Junia and what it means to call her an apostle results in both error and bad translation. 

Now, I first need to point out the meaning of the word apostle. In Greek, ἀπόστολος/apostolos simply means “one who is sent.” Historically (and this is the important part), the Early Church recognized two classes referred to as apostles. There is, of course, “the Twelve,” referring to the disciples who participated in Jesus’ early ministry. These and a few others, such as the Apostle Paul, also are put into this category of higher authority in the New Testament church. They went on to become church planters and bishops as Christianity spread throughout the Roman territories and beyond.

And yet, the church also recognized another category of apostle, or “one who is sent.” These would include the 70 (or 72 according to which manuscript tradition you’re reading) individuals Jesus sends out to preach the Good News in Luke 10. Think of these as the first Christian missionaries. Church tradition has kept record of who these 70 missionary apostles were, and guess what…Junia’s name—as well as that of Andronicus—is on the list. This would also explain why Paul states that Andronicus and Junia were “in Christ” (ἐν Χριστῷ) before him since he would not become a follower of Christ (see Acts 9) until at least a couple of years after Jesus’ ascension. And more than likely, when Paul referred to Andronicus and Junia as apostles, his readers knew which kind of apostles he meant.

St. John Chrysostom (AD 347-407), perhaps the greatest preacher the church has ever known, mentioned Junia in relationship to her apostleship in his sermon on Romans 16:

But to be even amongst these of note, just consider what a great encomium this is! But they were of note owing to their works, to their achievements. Oh! how great is the devotion (φιλοσοφια) of this woman, that she should be even counted worthy of the appellation of apostle! But even here he does not stop, but adds another encomium besides, and says, “Who were also in Christ before me.”

Homilies on Romans, Homily XXXI.

I find it amusing that while modern scholars want to try to fit Junia into their preconceived theologies of what an apostle is and whether or not Junia could have been one, the answer is found simply by paying attention to the understanding of the Church Fathers. This is a perfect example where the biblical text alone doesn’t provide enough context for understanding it. Certainly, if one just translated it as presented, “distinguished among the apostles,” the resulting rendering would be correct. But what Junia’s apostleship means isn’t answered by knowing Greek vocabulary and consulting lexicons. St. John Chrysostom, who lived closer to the events of the New Testament that us, surely knew his koine Greek better than any New Testament scholar alive today; but it was his grasp of history that helped him understand what it meant.

So many interpretations of the Bible—both in churches and in seminaries—don’t integrate the church’s rich history and tradition into their understanding, and this is to their loss. Before I was Orthodox, I attended a Baptist seminary. I took a wide variety of classes, including courses in church history, theology, and New Testament Greek; but no one ever talked about integrating these separate areas of study into a cohesive whole. And church history probably received the least attention.

Some Christian expressions do value history, though. We forget the past to our own peril (and bad translation). Every year, the Orthodox Church remembers “the holy, glorious, all-laudable Apostle Junia of the Seventy…on May 17 with Apostle Andronicus” (Orthodox Wiki) as they have for centuries.

What Is the Orthodox Church?

From my trip to Istanbul in 2018, inside the Hagia Sophia: The Deësis (δέησις: "intercession") Mosaic in the upper gallery. Christ Pantokrator (παντοκράτωρ: "Almighty") on the day of judgment with Mary on the left and John the Baptist on the right as they plea for his grace.

When I wrote the original “Why We Became Orthodox Christians” post earlier this year, I promised to go more in depth with the 7 primary reasons I outlined. Before I do that, though, I thought I would address a couple of comments I received from that initial introduction. Both of these comments came from Facebook—one in response to that initial blog post and one in response to something else I posted on Facebook a few days later. 

The response to my post has been overwhelmingly positive. I’ve jokingly said for a couple of years now that I keep expecting to see a “Baptist Intervention Committee” show up at my door, but fortunately that hasn’t happened yet. One friend from back in the days of my childhood—someone who went to the same Baptist church I grew up in—commented on that Facebook post, “I didn’t even know there was an Orthodox Church!” As much as the Orthodox Church is such a huge part of my life, that kind of response can be startling; but admittedly, it’s not so surprising. When I grew up, I was taught that Christians were either Catholic or Protestant. Occasionally, I heard “Catholic, Protestant, or Baptist.” I’ll come back to those folks in a bit. Truthfully, though, I never heard of Orthodox Christians until I was an adult. And that may have even been because I took church history classes at a Baptist seminary. Therefore, it’s not surprising that the average person in the United States may not know anything about the Orthodox. 

Click/tap for a larger viewAnother response came from a completely different post on FB in which I posted this collage of Twitter posts (I looked these up, and they were an actual exchange on Twitter). In the first post, a pastor made an offhand remark that his church would one day die just like all of the churches that the Apostle Paul founded. An Orthodox priest responded with photos of the bishops of the New Testament churches of Philippi, Corinth, and Thessalonica—churches which were founded by Paul and still exist to this day, churches that are and have always been Orthodox. A very good friend of mine, a Baptist pastor, responded that such a claim was as arrogant as those made in the early 20th century by J. M. Carroll, a Baptist pastor who wrote a little booklet called The Trail of Blood that tried to make the nonsensical and non-historical claim that Baptists had existed since John the Baptist in an unbroken trail of blood and martyrdom from the first century to today. It was all nonsense, but a lot of people believed it, even some down to this day who would suggest that there are Protestants, Catholics and Baptists. 

My friend objected that while there may be churches in those biblical locations today, there’s no way that could be in continuity with the ancient churches of the New Testament. J. M. Carroll made a historical claim about Baptists that could not be backed up with actual history. The Orthodox Church, however, can back up its claim and very much does. The Eastern Orthodox Church claims to be that actual church described in the Book of Acts, the very church that emerged from its roots in Judaism, and in fact, still carries many of those Jewish traditions today (a new day beginning after sunset, a new year beginning in September, feasts that often have roots in Jewish festivals, use of Psalms and incense in worship, liturgies that were adapted from earlier versions in Jewish worship, and much more).

I don’t blame the pastor on Twitter or my friend for assuming the ancient churches of the New Testament died a long time ago. In fact, as a Baptist Protestant, I made the same assumption back in the day. I’m sure I even taught that at various times. But the claim of the Orthodox Church is that it is the original church chronicled in the pages of the New Testament. The claim is not made that there aren’t Christians outside the Orthodox Church—such things are for God to determine—but we do have 2,000 years of historical records and a whole lot of church history to back up the historical claims we do make. 

I realize that for some (such as my pastor friend who objected) that this is an audacious claim. It may even, in fact, sound arrogant. I don’t intend to come across that way, and no Orthodox believer with whom I am associated with voices any kind triumphal attitude. This doesn’t change the fact, though, that there are two millennia of church history that has taken place, and most Christians sadly know very little of it. Let’s be honest: the claim is not all that audacious when you really think about it. When I was a “good” Baptist, I thought we were correct over and against the Methodists and Presbyterians. The Pentecostals believe they’re right about spiritual gifts, and everyone else is wrong. There are many competing claims, but they can’t all be right.  

Most Christians in the West are very unfamiliar with the Eastern Orthodox Church. These churches—Greek, Russian, Antiochian, etc.—were initially founded in the United States as ethnically-based congregations for immigrants, usually still practicing worship in old world languages. In the 21st century, though, things are changing. The church where we worship, St. Nicholas Antiochian Orthodox Church in Shreveport—holds its services completely in English and reflects a congregation of cradle-born Orthodox blended with new converts like Kathy and me. 

There’s some irony here, too. In every church I’ve been a part of my entire life, we wanted to be exactly like the New Testament Church! Although I often thought to the contrary, I had really no idea what such a church would look like. I guess I assumed the early disciples sat in a circle singing praise choruses before Paul delivered long sermons—kind of like some groups today. I’ve known others who thought that through Christian movements that emphasized the Jewishness of early Christianity, they could find the New Testament Church. I’ll say it again, from the moment I stepped into an Orthodox Church, I was struck by the Jewish customs that were still there. It's been here among us all along. 

Although we regularly attend St. Nicholas Orthodox Church in Shreveport, we’re temporarily living in Ruston, Louisiana—my hometown—while we’re waiting for our house to be built. There’s also an Orthodox mission church in Ruston—Holy Trinity Greek Orthodox Church—where I also attend services as often as I can. This past summer, Holy Trinity got their first full time priest: Fr. Brendan Pelphrey. 

Before one of his first Sundays, Fr. Brendan offered this invitation on Facebook:

Did you know that ancient Christianity is a thing? It still exists in the Orthodox churches around the world. Today, many churches have opted for secularism as a way to teach about Christ, especially among young people; it's called "entertainment evangelism." But in fact, "God was in Christ reconciling the world to Himself"--not the other way around. Rock bands cannot teach the depths of prayer, silence, comfort, and oneness with God. The Orthodox Liturgy does. It's a meditation. Come and see!

Yes, ancient Christianity is still a thing. In the past, it was primarily in the East; but it has now made its way to the West and is growing. I haven’t even really begun to answer the question I posed in the title of this post. But if you’re interested at all in finding the answer, you should follow Fr. Brendan’s advice and “Come and see.”

Next: Coming soon, I’ll post the events surrounding my rejection of Calvinist/Reformed teaching that set me on this journey 25 years ago. Stay tuned.

Why We Became Orthodox Christians (A "Brief" Summary)

On Christmas Eve, 2019, Kathy and I were received into the Orthodox Church via baptism and chrismation (we even had our marriage blessed by the Orthodox Church!). Regularly, when catching up with old friends, I get asked, “So what made you want to become Orthodox?” It’s a fair question since Kathy and I had been in Baptist churches for all our lives before our conversion. In fact, my mother tells me I was in church from the age of two weeks old. I’ll have to take her word on that since I don’t remember. Plus, I have MDiv and ThM degrees from the Southern Baptist Theological Seminary in Louisville, Kentucky. I’ve served in various support staff roles at a number of Baptist churches; supply preached; served as interim pastor; taught Bible and was chaplain at a Baptist high school for five years; taught Greek at SBTS; and taught Bible, philosophy and a variety of other classes at a Wesleyan university for 13 years. 

There’s a certain difficulty in explaining why I’m no longer Baptist because it suggests that I found the Baptist church lacking, and that will be potentially offensive to the millions of people—or at least my friends—who are still Baptist. I get that. I not only quit being a Baptist, I quit being Evangelical and Protestant as well. I even had one close friend assume that I was angry at the Baptists, and that was why I left. Nothing could be further from the truth. While it’s true that I found something in Orthodoxy that was lacking in my experience as a Baptist, I need to say that my Baptist faith was foundational for where I am today. I believe it is fair to say that I would not be Orthodox if my journey had not taken me down Baptist roads first. But in reality, there’s a foundation even deeper than that. There was a faith context for me before I was even Baptist. I first heard Bible stories sitting in my mother’s lap when I was a toddler. She was my first Bible teacher, and my first foundation for the faith I have today. I’m not running from being a Baptist anymore than I could run from what I learned on my mother’s knee. These things brought me to where I am today as an Orthodox Christian. When I was in my mother’s lap hearing Bible stories, when I was in Baptist churches and Baptist seminaries, God also knew that I would be Orthodox one day. 

My journey to the Orthodox Church, beyond the foundations I mention above, are the culmination of a series of events, experiences, and reflections that go back at least 25 years or so. I really need a couple hours or more to begin to tell you why I (and ultimately, we—to include Kathy) became Orthodox. I’ve spent those hours with some people explaining what I could as best as I could, making explanation and answering questions. I’m going to attempt to do that in writing—not in one post to my extremely-neglected blog, but perhaps in a series of posts.  

1. A Rejection of Calvinist/Reformed thought. This took place in the mid-nineties after a specific series of events that I’ll have to explain in a later post. Throughout most of my “professional” life, many have assumed that my theological convictions were thoroughly Reformed. Though my closest friends knew better, with most I rarely ever corrected these assumptions because it often led to debate. I’ve engaged in that debate plenty of times; but ultimately, I find it tiring. Although this is my starting point, I should point out that I have many, many friends with Reformed convictions, and we get along just fine. My rejection of Calvinism led directly to the next important part of my journey listed below.
2. Immersion in the Church Fathers. My rejection of Calvinism led me to a study of the earliest post-New Testament writings. I wanted to see if anything remotely came close to Calvinist ideas in the Church Fathers. I did find elements of this thought, but not until the 4th century AD and only in the Western Church. 
3. Conversations with an Orthodox Friend. I like to tell Theron Mathis, “This is all your fault.” Theron and I first met when we were both at the same Baptist church in the late 90s. Theron and his wife, Beth, converted around 20 years ago. Over the years we had many friendly but often intense discussions over coffee. I went from telling him, “Well, I could never believe that” to one day realizing I believed it, too. 
4. Visit to an Orthodox Church. The first time I stepped into the nave of an Orthodox Church in 2012, something clicked inside my head. I realized I was standing in a structure modeled after the Jerusalem Temple. It was a profoundly biblical experience for me. After having studied and taught the Bible for decades, I felt like I was in the Bible. I was still very Baptist at the time, but this was a turning point. The experience stuck with me and never let me go.
5. Immersion in "Modern" Orthodox Media. Once I discovered there was a contemporary church in harmony with the Church Fathers I had been reading, I began reading modern Orthodox writing and listening to Orthodox podcasts. I believe I bought my first Orthodox book in 2012, but by 2014 I was reading and listening to nothing but Orthodox content. I was struck by the beauty of Orthodox thought. At first I thought they were just coming at the same ideas we had in the Baptist church—but with different words and approaches. I eventually realized this was not the case, though. The Eastern Church never had a period of scholasticism or a Reformation to color its thought. At a certain point, I realized that my way of understanding my faith, reading the Bible, and seeing the world was becoming more Orthodox than Baptist. By 2017, I knew I had a decision to make.
6. The Full Worship Experience. I tell people visiting an Orthodox service for the first time that they will experience worship with all five senses, and it’s really true. It’s active and engaging. You actively participate in it from beginning to end. Over the years, I’d noticed that the worshipers in most Baptist (and other low-church Protestant) services took on a role that was increasingly passive. Worship had become entertainment, a kind of variety show (with varying degrees of talent according to where you were) to sit back and watch. Now, I know some will find that characterization insulting, but please note that I had a part in planning numerous worship services over the years. As my understanding of worship began to change, so did my desire for something greater. 
7. A Full Sense of History. I can go back even more than 25 years to describe my frustration that most Protestant churches I had been part of had no sense of history. I heard many complain over the years that we didn’t know the Bible well enough, but most churches don’t even know where they got the Bible or what happened between the final pages of the Bible and today. In my experiences in Baptist churches, if history was ever discussed at all, it never went back further than the Reformation. I said for many years before I was Orthodox that I rejected both Calvinist and Arminian labels because there was a millennium and a half of Church history before the Reformation. In contrast, the Orthodox Church is itself living history. Different saints are remembered every day. Miracle stories and significant events are recounted over and over. The church year is cyclical in its observances that reinforce both its history and teaching. Moreover, I found a great sense of continuity with Judaism in Orthodox worship. The Psalms are still prayed, and incense is still used in the services to represent the prayers of God’s people. Even the Divine Liturgy itself (used in all Orthodox Churches today) traces its roots to Jewish liturgies that came before it. 

As mentioned above, I came to the point that I realized I had to make a choice. Around 2015, I figured I’d better get Kathy clued in on all this because I wouldn’t have even attempted to convert without her—if that was even what we were supposed to do. I should emphasize that we were very involved in Baptist life and in our church. We had moved to Kentucky in 1991 so that I could go to a Baptist seminary. We didn’t intend to stay as long as we did, but I always say Kentucky was very good to us. As involved as we were in our local Baptist church, which was truly a community church in every sense of the word, it would have frankly been difficult to leave and begin worshiping somewhere else in the next county. However, an opportunity for change came when we decided to move home to Louisiana in 2018 to help care for aging family. 

While in Kentucky in recent years, we had been “sneaking” to Orthodox services whenever we could; but in planning the move, Kathy suggested that we use the transition to convert to the Orthodox Church. I was thrilled over this because by this point, I was ready, but I didn’t know if she was or not. In fact, after we had begun the process, I kept expecting a “Baptist intervention committee” to show up at my front door any day, but the move out of state really put our church activities under the radar.  

Becoming Orthodox is not as simple as walking down an aisle at an invitation and having your membership letter transferred—in fact, there’s no such thing as this in the Orthodox Church. We became catechumens at St. Nicholas Orthodox Church in Shreveport in October 2018. During this process, we attended catechism classes and experienced Orthodox worship in the services; we got to know the church, and the church got to know us. Over a year later, we were finally received into the Orthodox Church. 

Now all the above is just summary! In future posts, I’ll break everything down into more detail. Comments are welcome, but I really don’t have any desire to debate theological points, so don’t be too disappointed if you try to engage me in that manner, and I don’t bite. 

Was Esther Mordecai’s (Adopted) Daughter or His Wife?

Edwin Long's Queen Esther (1878)Over the past few years, any time I read an Old Testament passage—whether preparing a passage myself or listening to someone else—I always compare the Hebrew Masoretic Text (which is the basis for most modern Old Testament translations) with the Septuagint (or LXX, the 2nd century BC Greek translation of the Old Testament, primarily used by New Testament and Early Church writers). 

Most of the time, there’s not a significant amount of difference but the basic kind of variations to be expected when literature is translated from one language to another. However, occasionally, intriguing differences stand out, such as the one below I discovered recently.

A week ago Sunday, I was able to attend my home church in Louisiana with my mother for Mother’s Day. The sermon that morning was drawn from the second chapter of Esther, and it was v. 7 that jumped out at me when I compared it to the LXX using Accordance on my iPad. The pastor was reading from the New King James Version, which I will quote below as a decent English representation of the Hebrew text. I’ve included notes for a couple of words significant to this discussion.

“Mordecai was the legal guardian of his cousin Hadassah (that is, Esther), because she had no father or mother. The young woman had a beautiful figure and was extremely good-looking. When her father and mother died, Mordecai had adopted [לָקַח/laqach, literally “taken”] her as his own daughter [בַּת/baṯ].”

What jumped out when looking at the LXX was the replacement of בַּת (daughter) with γυνή/gynē (wife)! Mordecai had taken Esther as his wife? And technically, he had not taken Esther as his wife, but as the LXX indicates in the phrase, “ἐπαίδευσεν αὐτὴν ἑαυτῷ εἰς γυναῖκα,” Mordecai “had instructed/trained her to be a wife for himself.”

Compare the LXX with three English translations of Est 2:7—

Of course, at this point, I was no longer concentrating on the sermon but scrambling to look at commentaries to see if there was any mention of this major distinction in regard to Esther’s relationship to her cousin, Mordecai. I consulted a half dozen or so current biblical commentaries in Accordance, and none of them mentioned the discrepancy between the Hebrew and Greek versions of the Old Testament--until I looked at Levenson’s volume in the Old Testament Library series, where he writes, 

“The Greek version and rabbinic midrashim tend to see the relationship between Mordecai and Hadassah (Esther) as one of marriage, and ancient custom does indeed know of adoption in anticipation of matrimony (cf. Ezek. 16:1–14).”

There was a footnote in Levinson’s commentary on Esther that led me to the Babylonian Talmud where Neusner translates the appropriate section (Meg 13.1) as follows: 

VI.1 A. “...and when her father and mother died, Mordecai took her to himself as a daughter.”

B. One taught in the name of R. Meir: Do not read [it] “as a daughter” (le-vat), but rather as a wife (le-vayit).

C. And similarly it says, “and the poor man had nothing except one small lamb that he owned and fed, and it grew up together with him and with his children; it ate from his bread, and drank from his cup, and lay in his bosom, and it was like a daughter” (2Sa. 12:3). Because it lay in his bosom is it called a daughter (bat)? Rather [it should be called] a wife (bayit).

D. Here, too, [in Esther, the word “as a daughter” (bat) should be understood to mean] “as a wife” (bayit).

This is interesting because the rabbis are suggesting that the Hebrew, which obviously does not contain vowel pointing when they are reading it, should read Esther’s role not as daughter (בַּת/baṯ) but as wife (בַּיִת/bayit). Of course, my understanding of בַּיִת relates it to meaning house, household, or family, so perhaps this is somehow synonymous with wife as Hebrew is usually more functional than ontological in its use of language. Or perhaps I'm "reverse-transliterating" Neusner's Hebrew incorrectly. If anyone can offer insight, I’d appreciate that in the comments. 

However, this matter of unpointed Hebrew would also explain why the LXX reads that Mordecai had instructed/taught (παιδεύω/paideuō) Esther rather than the Masoretic Hebrew understanding of taken (לָקַח/laqach). Obviously, the LXX translators understood the unpointed לקח as לֶקַח/leqaḥ (taught) rather than לָקַח/lāqaḥ (taken). 

Incidentally, I often hear the LXX criticized for being too interpretive of the Hebrew text, but the vowel points added to the Hebrew by the Masoretes are often just as interpretive. The LXX probably translates Esther 2:7 as it was understood in Jewish thought around 200 BC. This understanding is backed up by the later rabbinic testimony found in the Talmud. Evidently, by the time of the 10th century AD, Esther’s relationship to her cousin as wife and not daughter was either forgotten or re-interpreted when the Masoretic Hebrew text was finalized. 

For the sake of modern readers, I should probably mention that there really would not have been any scandal around the idea of cousins marrying each other at this time. Race and tribe would have been the most important factor, so the fact that Esther was already part of Mordecai’s family made her a seemingly ideal mate in a time of exile. Esther is referred to as a girl in both Hebrew (נַעֲרָה/naʿarāh) and Greek (κοράσιον/korasion) versions of the story, so she was probably fairly young. Since her beauty is also mentioned, she had probably reached marriageable age by the time she is taken from Mordecai, but presumably the marriage had not been consummated yet as she was deemed a suitable canidate for Xerxes' harem.

So by this point, I believe I’ve convinced myself that Esther probably was brought up by Mordecai to be his wife as opposed to his merely being her legal guardian until she was of marriageable age. And that makes the story even more tragic, doesn’t it? This reading certainly explains Mordecai’s angst over Esther as he continually loiters outside Xerxes’ harem (a dangerous thing to do) to see if he could find out how she was doing. Mordecai had not just lost a family member to a pagan king—he had lost his betrothed, someone to whom he had invested years of care and instruction, and he had lost his future. No doubt, Mordecai loved Esther on multiple levels; but in the end, his forced loss of her to a pagan king led to the salvation of the Jewish people in Persia. Mordecai’s personal loss was his people’s gain.

Protecting Your iPhone's Data at the US Border

Over the last couple of days, various news outlets have reported that there's been a significant increase in the request of mobile phone passwords when entering the United States, even for those who are natural-born US citizens. A few days ago, the Electronic Frontier Foundation posted "Digital Privacy at the U.S. Border: Protecting the Data On Your Devices and In the Cloud" which I recommend if you're concerned about this kind of issue. 

Here are a few specific tips for iPhone users (which is what I use, so sorry, no Android tips here) for protecting your device's data at the US border or when going through Customs. 

If you're an iPhone user and do not wish to have your phone searched (I assume on grounds of principle and not because you'd have anything that would actually incriminate you for something illegal), make certain you take a few precautions at any border crossing or going through Customs. 

Assuming you've bought your iPhone in the last three years, it is already encrypted. Thank you, Apple. However, your data is only as good as your Passcode. 

1. A Passcode should be required anytime your iPhone is accessed. If yours is not set to to ask for the Passcode, go to Settings: Touch ID & Passcode: Require Passcode: Immediately.

2. Your Passcode should be a minimum of 6 characters, and last year "experts" were saying 11 characters was the ideal length (they're saying 12 or more now). Regardless of the length, it should not be something that would be easily guessed if someone knows you. If your Passcode is the year you were born, married, graduated, etc., change it now. Settings: Touch ID & Passcode: Change Passcode. 

3. Your iPhone has a failed Passcode "self-destruct" feature that you may not know about. After 10 incorrect Passcode tries, it will erase all data--but you have to turn on this feature. To do so, go to Settings: Touch ID & Passcode: Erase Data.

4. If you use your fingerprint to unlock your iPhone, be certain to completely turn off/shut down your device before going through Customs or a border crossing. A shutdown requires a Passcode to be entered, so you can't be forced to use your fingerprint against your will. 

Always be polite and respectful, but realize that if you do not comply with requests, you may not get your iPhone back.

Fingerprint image courtesy of Pixabay.com.

Please Don't Make Me Go to the Shack Again!

With the release of the movie version of William P. Young's badly written and heretical The Shack now playing in theaters, I thought I would offer a link to my review of the book that I wrote in 2009. No, I have not seen the movie, but I can't imagine that it could possibly salvage the original material. 

Here's a link to my review from 2009:

"The Shack: A Review (sorry I couldn't think of a more clever title, because all the good ones have already been used)"

The Drone Debacle

In case you haven't seen it on my FaceBook page, here is my drone debacle from a couple of weeks ago. 

Kathy got me a Sharper Image DX-4 Video Drone for my birthday in November. According to the instructions, the drone is supposed to initially hover about three or four feet in the air. Mine didn't do that, though. It took off and kept climbing higher. It was supposed to only have a 150 foot height range to keep it from having to be registered with the FAA. Again, not so--this drone kept going up, went into the clouds, and was GONE!

Captured here is the drone's maiden and only voyage. Footage by Kathy Mansfield, Sonny Orren, and the drone posthumously named "Icarus." My thanks to Jason Ebeyer for editing the three video streams together.

No, the drone was never found. If my wife ever lets me have another one, I'll put my name and phone number on it before I fly it!

Accordance 12 Featured on Theotek Podcast #86

This past Tuesday night, Mark Allison, my co-worker at OakTree Software/Accordance joined Kevin Purcell, Wes Allen and me to show off the new features of Accordance 12. Mark was the perfect choice to show off the new features since he has been teaching our "What's New in Accordance 12?" webinar. 

Here's the YouTube posting of Theotek podcast #86. 

Also, check the Theotek website for full show notes for episode #86.