John 12:6

Liddell and Scott. An Intermediate Greek-English Lexicon. Oxford. Clarendon Press. 1889:

a case for the mouthpiece of a pipe: generally, a case, casket, NTest.

 

 

τὰ βαλλόμενα: Neuter plural nominative or accusative of the present middle/passive participle of βάλλω ("to throw, strike, hit"). The phrase may be rendered either as "the things being thrown" (i.e., projectiles) or "the things being struck," depending on syntactic and contextual factors. In military contexts, it typically denotes missiles or other launched objects. Cf. LSJ, s.v. βάλλω.

 

Nearly all translations render this "things that are put" in an attempt to force the meaning to fit with presumed contexts. But this is very ambiguous. What are "things that are put"? Or "things that are placed"? Basically, any and every kind of object out there! Is that really what John means to write?

 

The rendering therefore turns the clause into pointless wordy nonsense. We found in the Godbey Translation "things cast in" which is closer, but he is compelled to add the word "in" which is not a part of the text.

Rendering τὰ βαλλόμενα as "things that are put" is imprecise and generally incorrect in classical or Koine Greek contexts.

1. Primary Sense of βάλλω:

   • The core meaning of βάλλω is "to throw," "to cast," "to strike," especially with force or motion.

   • In both Homeric and post-Classical Greek, this verb retains the semantic field of propulsion, hurling, or shooting (e.g., spears, stones, missiles).

2. "Put" Is Not a Natural Semantic Equivalent:

   • "Put" implies gentle placement or setting something down, which aligns more with verbs like τίθημι (to place, to put), not βάλλω. John understands the meaning of τίθημι and uses it frequently. Thayer's Greek Lexicon states the rare idiomatic usage of βάλλω: "to move, give motion to, not with force yet with attention and for a purpose"

   • The LSJ places this usage under II.6.c, a special sub definition for a usage only found in later certain lyrical, metaphorical, or ritual contexts. (i.e. laying bricks, pouring, etc) These broader meanings of βάλλω (e.g., "to put," "to place," "to deposit") are colloquial, idiomatic, and context-dependent extensions of its core meaning ("to throw").

   • Even in passive voice, βάλλομαι typically suggests being struck, not merely being placed.

3. Contextual Support:

   • The definite article (τὰ) lends weight to the meaning of "things thrown/hurled" or "the Projectiles" over a weaker idiomatic sense "things being put." For example, in military or ritual contexts, τὰ βαλλόμενα would naturally be understood as "the things being thrown"—such as missiles, offerings, or ritual castings. The definite article (τὰ βαλλόμενα) emphasizes the action of being thrown in progress, not merely having been placed somewhere. It implies that these “thrown things” are part of a recognizable class (e.g., weapons, stones, arrows).

     • The definite article reinforces the substantive participial phrase,

     • retains the core motion semantics of βάλλω,

     • and indicates a concrete, classifiable object, especially in military or combative contexts. The substantive "things that are put" is impossible to classify in any meaningful way.

     Therefore rendering it merely as “the things that are put” risks flattening both the verbal aspect and the implied context of motion or aggression. What about "the things that are put into a box/bag"? This is a substantivized clause, but notice, it is still very ambiguous, and requires adding the word "in/into" which is not present. What are "Things Put into A Bag"? 

   • Only in specific idiomatic contexts (e.g., βάλλειν εἰς πίθον “to place in a jar”) or certain Koine usages can βάλλω lose its original motion semantics (notice the need for the word εἰς "into"). Without such context, τὰ βαλλόμενα will be interpreted by Greek readers as missiles/projectiles, not just “items placed.”

   • There is no word "in" or "into." One can take note for themselves how "into it" is forced into this particular interlinear translation, the definite article is mischievously altered/used in the sense of a relative pronoun "which/that" and the plural sense is all but wiped out:
     

   • By what authority do these scholars tamper with the words in this way? Rendering τὰ βαλλόμενα as “that which is being put into it” is very crafty, in the sense that it deliberately downplays the lexical and aspectual force of the phrase for a more neutral or euphemistic effect. Further, this altering of the plural and the definite article is falsifying. It is not honest. Such a rendering subtly dilutes the martial or violent connotation inherent in βάλλω (especially in its classical and formal senses), and it might serve rhetorical or theological aims—but at the cost of philological honesty. Such translations would be more honestly dubbed "dynamically engineered translations" or "euphemistic translations." Yet, nearly all of them seem to be marketed as "accurate" or "faithful." Really?

Correct Renderings:

• “the things being thrown”

• “the projectiles”

• “the things being cast”

• Less commonly, with figurative use, possibly “the things being inflicted” (e.g., blows, sufferings)

In late or metaphorical usage (e.g., emotions being hurled, words cast out), the range can broaden, but “put” remains too far removed from the core action of βάλλω.

he carried, took up. The word ἐβάσταζεν also gets hacked by a number of translations rendering it as "steal" (NASB, NRSV, BLB, NLT, Weymouth, etc, etc) It does not mean steal. The LSV, YLT, Julia Smith Literal give the accurate rendering:

• “he was carrying” (YLT)

• “he was carrying” (LSV)

• “and carried” (Julia Smith)

The supposed usage of βαστάζω in John 12:6 as “steal” is a marked departure from its classical semantic field, where it predominantly denotes physical bearing or emotional endurance. While a few post-Classical sources (e.g., Polybius, Lucian) attest furtive or appropriative nuances, the scholars' application of the verb to Judas Iscariot exploits this marginal semantic possibility, resulting in a contextually derived but lexically unconventional meaning. The verb thus illustrates a semantic broadening in late Koine, partially shaped by idiomatic and narrative exigency, rather than linguistic norm.

In John 12:6, then, this sense of the verb requires a highly idiomatic usage:

• The idea of surreptitious removal (hence "stealing") is not lexically encoded in βαστάζω per se but is inferred from the context of "he was a thief".

• The scholars must assume that John is exploiting the range of the verb—from innocent “carry” to the contextually negative “carry off (wrongfully)”—to achieve a loaded, ambiguous effect.

• However the Septuagint and other Jewish-Greek texts use βαστάζω in neutral or literal senses, typically “carry” or “bear” (e.g. bearing burdens, carrying the ark, etc.), with no inherent negative valence.

We are led to believe this idiomatic usage is pervasive throughout the NT. This, we are told, is how Koine Greek works, being as it is, a common lingua franca, with more colloquial range than Classical Greek.

Koine (Common) Greek Usage

To build theology, ontology, or ecclesial structures on language that trades in idiomatic elasticity is, by classical standards, precarious. What then exactly is the "The New Testament Usage"? The Usage of Koine that we are given is very frequently:

• Semantically diffuse: e.g. βαστάζω—apparently can mean “carry,” “endure,” “steal,” or “lift up” depending on a sliver of context.

• Syntactically pleonastic or elliptical: frequent asyndeton, parataxis, and Semitic calques blur syntactic clarity.

• Lexically unstable: words like λόγος, σάρξ, πνεῦμα, δίκαιος bear multiple overlapping (and at times conflicting) semantic layers.

The irony here is that this porous linguistic ground tends to fulfill the very prophetic metaphor of building “on sand” (cf. Matt. 7:26). To say that this is ironic is not just being rhetorically effective; it's epistemologically apt. The textual tradition invites trust and belief, but does not give certainty through philological precision.

The issue remains: meaning is underdetermined in many key NT passages—not because of poor writing, but because of intentional polyvalence and the limitations of Koine itself.

This semantic underdetermination leads directly to:

• Doctrinal multiplicity: the same passage is taken as prooftext for mutually exclusive positions.

• Exegetical contestation: theological debates (e.g. predestination, justification, logos theology) hinge on words whose meanings were never rigorously defined in Koine usage.

• Translation dilemmas: modern renderings must either flatten, choose, or footnote interpretive ambiguity.

Koine’s instability functions not only as a medium but as a theological instrument. The traditional Gospel of John, for instance, is exploiting semantic ambiguity for theological depth. Consider:

• ἄνωθεν (John 3:3): “again” vs. “from above” (RBT retains the precise meaning over the ambiguous, from above)

• βαστάζω (John 20:15): the tradition “steal/pilfer” vs. "carry/take up" (RBT uses the precise, carry/take up)

• καταλαμβάνει (John 1:5):  the tradition “comprehend” vs. “seize/overtake" (RBT uses the precise, seize/catch)
  (Strong’s #G2638, katalambanó. To seize tight hold of, arrest, or catch down. Especially of the hand taking hold.)

The traditional NT's idiomatic Koine creates interpretive instability. Though meanings persist, their range precludes doctrinal precision. This is why the traditional Gospel stands on semantically shifting terrain, a fact that is well attested by the inumerable doctrinal divisions and countless church splits that have persisted since the start.

In other words, the traditional NT is sand.

In spite of the broad idiomatic ranges of Koine Greek, the underlying semantic infrastructure of Greek remains intact. The core lexemes are not lost. Therefore, a translation that is philologically rigorous (tracking morphology, syntax, and semantic ranges), non-theological (eschewing doctrinal overlays), historically contextualized (respecting 1st-century Hellenistic idioms), can produce a concrete rendering—one that favors lexical precision over theological tradition or interpretive smoothness.

Such a translation would have to make difficult choices, especially when a Greek word has multiple plausible senses (e.g. βαστάζω, λόγος, σῶμα). But it could legitimately render:

• βαστάζω as "carry" even where tradition prefers "steal" (John 12:6),

• κεφαλή as "head" without importing "authority" (Eph. 5:23),

• δικαιοσύνη as “just-dealing” rather than “imputed righteousness” (Romans).

The result would be technically accurate, but theologically destabilizing—because it would strip away centuries of doctrinal accretion and force readers to confront the text’s raw lexical surfaces. The obstacle is not the Greek itself, but the weight of interpretive tradition, the ambiguity left by authorial intent, and the modern reader’s expectation that religious texts be theologically consistent and immediately comprehensible. Much of post-NT theology rests not on the raw Greek, but on translated, interpreted, harmonized, or doctrinally massaged renderings. When we restore the actual voice and syntax of the text, strip away the smoothing effect of ecclesiastical translation traditions, and refuse to resolve lexical ambiguity prematurely, indeed we risk destabilizing received doctrine. The result of undoing centuries of scholarly interpretation very well could be a giant mess, or, perhaps we might gain access to a latent doctrinal architecture that may have been hidden in plain sight?