MetaCatholic

In thinking about this coming Sunday’s readings I’ve been struck by some of the diversity of the translations of Hebrews 11:1 Ἔστιν δὲ πίστις ἐλπιζομένων ὑπόστασις, πραγμάτων ἔλεγχος οὐ βλεπομένων.

• Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen. (NRSV, ESV, RSV)
• Now faith is the reality of what is hoped for, the proof of what is not seen. (HCSB)
• Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see. (NIV)
• Faith is the realization of what is hoped for and evidence of things not seen. (NAB)
• Faith is the confidence that what we hope for will actually happen; it gives us assurance about things we cannot see. (NLT)
• Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the proving of things not seen. (RV)
• Faith gives substance to our hopes and convinces us of realities we do not see. (REB)

The particular variations group round ὑπόστασις, and whether to take it as “assurance, confodence” or “substance, reality”, and around ἔλεγχος and whether it is about “conviction, being convinced” or about “evidence, proof.”

In one sense, although attention is often given to the verse as the only definition of faith in the Bible, it is almost too gnomic to be a definition, and its meaning is less a question of linguistics than of narrative. Whatever it means is worked out in a range of examples which conclude at the beginning of chapter 12 with Jesus. Most of those embodied narrative definitions are about action: they are not about belief, per se, but faith as a reason for acting obediently. Only the RV with its “proving” captures any sense of that dynamism, the faithful action that proves the reality of things unseen: So the reality of Isaac’s birth proves God’s promises to the old and well-past-it Abraham.

At the same time, none of these heroes of faith get what they hope for – yet.  Even though this final perfection is destined for us (and them with us), we do not yet see it, but we do see Jesus. Again, in the narratives, Abraham seeks a city with foundations, and those who die in faith have lived as “strangers and pilgrims.” This rather inclines me to think that those translations that go for some version of “substance” or “reality”  have got something more going for them than those that go for “assurance” or “conviction.” The point, I think, is that the heroes of faith live by trusting in a better reality, “a kingdom that cannot be shaken” and are able to deal with their testing afflictions as transitory.

None of the above translations are wrong. But I’d be inclined to paraphrase in a way that captures some of that narrative definition of two fairly ambiguous words: “Faith shows us the reality of our hopes, and uncovers the evidence of things we do not see.”