In Rome’s church of San Pietro in Vincoli (St. Peter in Chains) not far from the Coliseum, one can find Michelangelo’s early 16th century statue of Moses. It depicts the biblical figure with horns on his head, based on a description in chapter 34 of Exodus in the Vulgate, the Latin translation of the Hebrew Scriptures (the “Old Testament”), done in the early 4th century by Jerome of Stridon (c.342-420), commonly known as Saint Jerome. Jerome translated the Bible into Latin between 383 and 404. He originally translated it all from Greek, but as he went on he checked his text as well with the Hebrew original. There he made a mistake, which gave us Moses with horns on his head.

There have been many creative interpretations of “Moses with horns” over the years. Some rather bizarre and some very antisemitic. Today’s biblical scholars, however, provide the best explanation.

The horns on the head of Michelangelo’s statue of Moses resulted from an incorrect translation of a text in Exodus 34, which says that Moses, as he came down from Sinai, had rays of light on his forehead. The Hebrew word karan, meaning “rays,” however was mistranslated by Jerome. He confused the Hebrew word karan with the Hebrew word keren which meant “horns.” Jerome did make some other mistakes in his Latin Vulgate translation of the Bible. Nevertheless, I find it important to affirm that Jerome’s work was a significant improvement over earlier Latin translations, collectively called the Vetus Latina.

Some well-known biblical mistranslations are still with us today. In Matthew 19:24, for example, Jesus says: “Again I tell you, it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for someone who is rich to enter the kingdom of God.” The original text in Greek had the Greek word kamilos, meaning “rope.” But an early translator misread kamilos as kamelos, meaning “camel.” The mistake has been with us for a very long time.

A translation that is still problematic is the translation of Pontius Pilate’s sign on Jesus’ cross. The Latin phrase, often abbreviated as INRI, is Iesus Nazarenus Rex Iudaeorum. [The letter “J” did not exist in the days of Jesus. It was created in 1524 CE by Gian Giorgio Trissino (1478-1550), an Italian Renaissance grammarian.]

The correct English translation of Pilate’s sign is “Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Judeans.” Not “King of the Jews.” There were no “Jews” in the days of Jesus. There were Hebrews. The Judeans were inhabitants of the province of Judea, and Pontius Pilate, who died in 39 CE, was the fifth governor of the Roman province of Judea for ten years. But Pontius Pilate had a hard time with the Judeans and continually did things to insult and provoke them. Calling the crucified Jesus their king was one of his provocations.

And of course, we have the more complicated mistranslation of Isaiah 7:14, which reads today as: “Behold a virgin shall conceive, and bear a son, and his name shall be called Emmanuel.” Here the mistranslation began when the ancient Hebrew language Bible was translated, in the 3rd century BCE, from ancient Hebrew into Greek. The Greek translation was later called the “Septuagint,” based on the Latin word septuaginta for seventy because of the belief that seventy translators had worked on the project.

The mistranslation in Isaiah 7:14 involves the ancient Hebrew word almah meaning “a young woman of marriageable age.” The word does not mean a virgin. The original text, written in Hebrew in the 8th century BCE, was Isaiah’s prediction that the faithless Ahaz, King of Judah who reigned from 732–716 BCE, would have a son who would be more godly, i.e. Emmanuel meaning “God is with us.” His son Hezekiah, who reigned from c. 715 to 686 BCE, restored worship to the God of Israel. His reign was marked by prophetic activity, with prophets such as Isaiah and Micah delivering their messages during his time.

But when the ancient Hebrew text from Isaiah 7:14 was translated into Greek, the Hebrew word almah was mistranslated as parthenos meaning “a virgin.” Centuries later Christians interpreted the Greek text of Isaiah 7:14 as a prophetic text referring to the virginal conception of Jesus, who would be “God with us.”

Some biblical translations are basically correct but miss the nuance of the original word. I give two examples. The Greek word ekklesia originally meant “a gathering” or “a community.” In New Testament English translations, it is usually translated as “church” which does not have a community nuance but an institutional nuance. My other example is the Greek word episkopos. Usually translated as “bishop,” it originally meant an “overseer” or a “guardian.” But translating episkopos as “bishop” in biblical texts can be misleading as it carries connotations of a hierarchical structure not present in the early church. More recent translations opt for “overseer,” or “pastor” to avoid these connotations.

My main point is that it is critically important that those who study and translate the Scriptures follow what we call the historical-critical method, which investigates the origins and meaning of ancient texts in order to understand the world behind the texts and what those texts mean today. Correct translations of texts are the beginning but then one must also appreciate that biblical texts contain some history but also a variety of literary forms such as symbolism, folklore, and presumed or imagined historical scenarios. The Infancy Narratives in Matthew and Luke are good examples.

Over the years as a Roman Catholic historical theologian, reflecting about an historical-critical interpretation of Sacred Scripture, I have often thought about the positive actions of an earlier Pope Leo.

Leo XIII, pope from 1878 to 1903, was a welcomed breath of fresh air after his arch conservative predecessor Pius IX who was pope from 1846 to 1878.

In 1892 Pope Leo XIII authorized the École Biblique in Jerusalem, the first Catholic school specifically dedicated to the critical study of the Bible. Then in 1893, with his encyclical Providentissimus Deus, Pope Leo gave the first formal authorization for the use of historical-critical methods in biblical scholarship. He warned about the dangers of rationalism but clearly endorsed the historical-critical method is a way of studying texts, by examining their historical origins, context, and development.

In 1902, Pope Leo XIII instituted the Pontifical Biblical Commission to reshape and adapt Roman Catholic biblical studies to modern scholarship.

The last major Catholic biblical turning point came with the Second Vatican Council’s dogmatic constitution Dei Verbum (“Word of God”), promulgated by Pope Paul VI in 1965. Paul VI was pope from 1963 to 1978. Dei Verbum supports the use of historical-critical methods in biblical interpretation. It acknowledges the importance of understanding the historical context, literary forms, and the original author’s intent when studying the Scriptures.

And so, we study, we learn, and we grow.

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