A Case for Greek New Testament Sentence

Diagramming

by Randy Leedy © 2020, All rights reserved.

Randy Leedy is the author of the widely acclaimed Greek NT sentence diagrams published in BibleWorks.
The diagrams and their annotations are now available in PDF form at www.NTGreekGuy.com.

First, a word of thanks to Peter Head for an invitation to contribute this post that is
quite tangential to textual criticism but whose topic seems to be of some growing
interest at least within the community of NT Greek exegetes.

For Starters

Let’s make sure at the outset that I’m clear about what I mean by “sentence
diagramming.” Of the variety of forms of mapping out sentences visually, by “sentence
diagramming,” I mean a method that at least roughly approximates the one developed
by Alonzo Reed and Brainerd Kellogg and published in the 1870s, hence known as the
Reed-Kellogg method. Here is an example, from Matthew 1:21. The running text reads,
τέξεται δὲ υἱόν, καὶ καλέσεις τὸ ὄνομα αὐτοῦ Ἰησοῦν· αὐτὸς γὰρ σώσει τὸν λαὸν αὐτοῦ ἀπὸ τῶν
ἁμαρτιῶν αὐτῶν (And she will bear a son, and you shall call his name Jesus, for he will
save his people from their sins).
 Really?

Not all students and teachers of NT Greek immediately recognize value in Reed-Kellogg
diagramming. “Really? Go back to 8th-grade English class for a Greek exegesis tool?”
Which side is right? I am quite sure that both sides are correct but are talking past one
another by not being clear about the goal in reading, or the aspect of reading, that
diagramming supports. Obviously, a sentence diagram does not tell you everything
about the meaning of a sentence, nor does drawing a diagram force you to think about
everything relevant to the sentence’s meaning. It indicates nothing about word
meanings. It provides no background context to clarify the exact referents intended for
the various words and larger units of text. Whether it contributes anything to the
development of reading fluency seems doubtful (but see the Conclusion section below).
Certainly it makes no immediate contribution toward fluency, as it only slows the
processing of the text—and greatly so. It may hint at discourse features of a text, but it
certainly doesn’t display them in any helpful detail. It can even be downright misleading
in discourse analysis. For example, what the diagram shows as the grammatical subject
is often decidedly not the real discourse topic of the sentence. So is sentence
diagramming really any good?

Yes, Really!

Sentence diagramming comes into its own as a tool for exegetes who are willing to
invest the utmost effort to insure that their understanding of a text’s meaning is as
accurate as they are capable of achieving. Let’s explore that claim.

The Exegete’s Goal and Presuppositions

Sentence diagramming is a tool in the exegete’s toolkit, and in order to evaluate the
functionality of a tool, we must first identify its intended purpose. In this particular
case, we must identify the exegete’s goal for his work and the presuppositions that
govern his pursuit of that goal.
I would think that agreement on the exegete’s goal—at least among subscribers to the
historical-grammatical school of Hermeneutics—is to arrive at the fullest possible
understanding of the meaning the author intended for every part of the text, right down
to the individual words.
This goal implies the existence of a number of presuppositions. First, that texts do
encode meanings intended by authors. Second, that authors intend their readers to
succeed in grasping those meanings. Third, that readers are in fact capable of grasping
those meanings. These presuppositions are simple and straightforward.
Things become a little more complicated as we dig for further presuppositions. If it’s not
obvious at first glance, a little thought does lead us to recognize a fourth presupposition:
that human language is capable of conveying meanings with considerable reliability.
Without this presupposition, an author who expects his reader to arrive at a shared
understanding of the content of the text is self-deceived. Notice that this presupposition
must be expressed in relative rather than absolute terms. Simple experience teaches us
that the reliability with which readers perceive the meanings intended by authors falls
far short of 100%. But no despair is necessary; that reliability is also far greater than
zero.
A fifth presupposition then follows: as a reader, I am prone to a certain degree of error.
It is not safe for me to assume that the first meaning that crosses my mind for a portion
of text is in fact what the author intended, because my human fallibility haunts my
reading of Scripture as much as it haunts every other form of my life and service to
Christ. Once the exegete has had a number of experiences in which by some means he
suddenly comes to realize that he has always misunderstood a passage, if he is wise he
will begin to realize that he cannot be confident that his understanding of a passage is
correct until he works through a process of validating it by careful examination—until
he exegetes it.
Some perhaps have always thought of exegesis as the process by which we come to
understand a text that, on first encounter, we knew that we did not fully grasp. Exegesis
certainly does serve that function. But I would suggest that two additional functions are
no less necessary; these come into play when we think that we do understand a text fully
on first encounter.
When we think we have understood a text correctly, that assessment is either right or
wrong. If it is wrong (the possibilities being that we have misunderstood something,
have failed to see some intended point of meaning at all, or have imagined something
not actually present), a sound exegetical process should lead to correction. In such cases
the value of the exegetical process is obvious.
Sometimes, though, our exegesis may simply confirm that we have correctly understood
the text. In that case, have we wasted our time? No more than, for example, a structural
engineer wastes his time by laborious calculations that confirm his instinct that a set of
beams needing to support some particular amount of weight over some particular span
would have to have some particular thickness. I believe I can safely assert that for the
preacher or teacher who holds himself accountable to proclaim Scripture accurately,
confirmation of correct understanding is of no less value than correction of incorrect
understanding.

The Role of Sentence Diagramming in Exegesis

If I’ve succeeded in communicating a valid portrayal of the purpose and presuppositions
of exegesis, then I think the value of sentence diagramming becomes obvious, and little
elaboration is necessary. Diagramming gives an ideal opportunity for the exegete to slow
down and think deeply about all the grammatical connections in a sentence. And though
it does not force him to think deeply (one can hurry even through a laborious task!), it
does encourage him to do so. A practitioner who values thoroughness does not simply
diagram the first construction that comes to mind (e.g., connecting a modifier with the
word immediately preceding it). He examines the context carefully to see whether other
possibilities present themselves, and if so, he evaluates all the options for best semantic
coherence within the various levels of context.
Thinking about Syntax. The diagramming process also encourages the exegete, as a step
toward validating each grammatical connection his diagram shows, to consider the exact
syntactical usage for each possible construction he considers: if he’s considering the
possibility that a participle might be adverbial, does it express the cause of its governing
verb? The means? The result? A simple accompanying action? One of the adverbial uses
of the participle must be viable in order for this construction to be correct. Even an
obvious construction, such as an adnominal genitive modifying its head word, presents
an invitation to think about its usage. Is the genitive subjective? Objective? Possession?
Source? As another example, dealing with a long coordinate series invites consideration
of possible subgroupings within the overall series. Of course, examples could be
multiplied.
Visualization. One of the most obvious benefits of sentence diagramming is the visual
element, which can be a highly effective aid for grasping overall structure that is much
more difficult to comprehend in the abstract.
In addition to these rather obvious benefits of sentence diagramming are some benefits
that might not be so immediately apparent.
Efficient Communication. Diagrams can efficiently communicate one’s understanding of
a passage’s grammar to others, whether in a classroom setting or by some form of
publication. Again, the visual element factors in strongly here. All of us recognize the
value of commentaries for help when we get stuck and in order to check our work
against the findings of others even when we may be quite sure of our own findings.
Diagrams can function similarly with regard to details of grammatical structure, and
with great space efficiency.
Mutual Profit. An outgrowth of the previous point is that diagrams can serve as a means
by which fellow-students of scripture compare the results of their work, for mutual
profit. Imagine, for example, two or more pastor friends who agree to preach through a
particular New Testament epistle to their respective congregations over the same period
of time. I can well envision the benefit that each pastor’s work would be to the others as
they compare their diagrams and discuss their differences.
Word Study. One important aspect of exegesis from which, at first thought, one might
well incline to dismiss diagramming as worthless (as in fact the opening of this article
suggests) is word study. What profit can a sentence diagram bring to the pursuit of
precise word meaning? The fact is, though, that a word’s various senses sometimes
entail differing grammatical constructions. Since a correct understanding of
grammatical constructions sometimes constrains our understanding of word meaning,
diagramming contributes value even on the lexical side of exegesis.
Pedagogy. Diagramming can also play at least two powerful pedagogical roles. It can aid
the teacher in explaining grammatical concepts, as it provides a visual method of
showing grammatical structure. It can also help teachers assess their students’
understanding of grammar. For the teacher who wants students not only to be able to
translate accurately but also to clearly understand the grammatical mechanics of the
language, diagramming assignments can reveal conceptual gaps that must be filled in, at
an individual or a class-wide level.
Homiletics. Diagramming can also contribute helpfully to expository sermon
development, especially in didactic passages (as opposed to narrative). Many expositors
have found great help in charting such passages by methods resembling in varying
degrees the one recommended in Walter Kaiser’s Toward an Exegetical Theology and
many other works since, designated by such terms as “propositional display” and
“thought-flow charting.” The basic unit of text manipulated in such charts is the clause:
the briefest grammatical unit that explicitly communicates a complete thought
consisting of subject and predicate. The first step in such a charting method is to divide
the passage into its constituent clauses. Sometimes these divisions are straightforward
and obvious; sometimes they are not. If one draws sentence diagrams before beginning
the propositional display, those diagrams can become an invaluable aid for determining
how to segment the text for the display.
Objections to Sentence Diagramming
I can well anticipate some powerful objections to sentence diagramming as either
unnecessary or even positively damaging. A seasoned grammarian might well object that
sentence diagramming only wastes his time. It shows nothing that simple and relatively
effortless processing of the text revealed to him, so it amounts to little more than an
elaborate echo chamber.
One line of reply to this objection has been mentioned above: how sure can we be that
our initial understanding of a passage is correct? The seasoned grammarian might
imagine that he hits the nail on the head 95% or even 98% of the time. Let’s grant that
assumption for the moment. Surely it must be reasonable to make some effort to dig
into those few percentage points of possible error in search of improved understanding
of the text. How best to make that effort? By unstructured re-reading alone? Why not
employ a structured method that forces one to consider each grammatical connection at
least briefly and invites him to push himself to think about them as deeply as possible?
But that assumption of 95%-98% accuracy may well be too optimistic. In my personal
experience, close scrutiny of my work always brings to light a greater error rate than I
initially think I have achieved. Diagramming is one helpful device for uncovering those
unperceived errors. The Lord assures us that scripture contains treasure to be found by
searching, and the more intently we’re willing to search, the more treasure we’ll bring
home. Admittedly, one can do such searching without diagramming. But I’m not at all
certain that one can do it both as deeply and as quickly without diagramming as he can
by diagramming. In my experience, once the conventions of diagramming become
second nature, a hand-drawn diagram is actually one of the most time-efficient ways to
think through all of a passage’s issues related to grammatical structure.
But at least one other line of response to this objection is worth noting. The seasoned
grammarian may not need to diagram himself, but not everyone has achieved his level of
grammatical expertise. For most, working through the grammar is laborious and
difficult. Why deprive them of a tool that could greatly assist the development of their
competence? And does he wish not only to understand the text but also to explicate it to
others? Why deprive himself of a helpful visual means of doing so?
Another objection to diagramming is potentially more powerful in my judgment:
diagramming promotes an atomizing approach to the text, so that exegetical decisions
rest upon tunnel-vision focus on immediate context, instead of processing the text more
holistically with a view to perceiving its overall character and thrust as the surest ground
for exegetical decision-making. The danger pointed out is real and deserves serious
attention. Nevertheless, I believe there is a wiser response to it than abandoning
diagramming.
In my opinion, the valid warning here is not so much that diagramming violates sound
exegesis as that diagramming alone does not constitute sound exegesis, as though
drawing or understanding the diagram marks the endpoint of the exegetical process. A
fully developed critical appraisal of a work of art both analyzes the piece into its
component parts and synthesizes those pieces back into the coherent whole that
manifests its artistic character. In the same way, the wise exegete wants to master every
part of the text—but not just the parts. The value of recognizing the function of the
parts is that it puts the exegete on much surer ground regarding the accuracy and
validity of his perception of the meaning, function, and even beauty of the whole. So it
appears quite plain to me that this objection, while a wise objection to a certain
misunderstanding or abuse of sentence diagramming—one that deserves sober
awareness, it is not a valid objection to sentence diagramming itself, employed within
the larger enterprise of a holistic exegetical method that takes into account the whole
range of linguistic features, not to mention the historical and theological considerations
that also come into play.

The Value of Consulting Sentence Diagrams Drawn by Others

I have encountered some who readily embrace sentence diagramming for its exegetical
benefits but who discount the value of examining diagrams drawn by others. “The value
is in the process, not the product, so why bother with someone else’s product that only
short-circuits my own process?” Several of the values listed above entail the viewing of
diagrams drawn by others, so I have partially responded to this point of view already.
Further development, though, is appropriate.
Such thinking seems commendable on first encounter. It is the thinking of the diligent
student of Scripture who wants to earn his understanding of the text by his own labor,
for his maximum profit, rather than avail himself another’s expertise in a way that might
inhibit the development of his own. This reasoning, though, to be consistent, would
have to reject pretty much all professional instruction in any field. Would this person
want as his physician one who had depended entirely on his own resources for the
development of his medical expertise? Probably not for long! This person almost
certainly acquired his own ability to diagram from someone else, whether in a classroom
or by reading, so he’s already dependent on another to that extent. Why not go ahead
and compare one’s work with another’s work that is recognized for competence? The
wise concern about inhibiting one’s own development is adequately addressed by
insisting on doing one’s own work before consulting another; to go the next step and do
one’s own work without consulting another, when it is readily available, starts moving
away from wisdom toward folly.

Conclusion

An observation by C.H. Spurgeon is germane. A passage in Lectures to my Students

commends the careful reading of Greek and Latin (translating once rapidly and then
going back carefully to correct errors—there’s that appropriate self-doubt again), not as
a matter of exegetical accuracy but as a matter of learning how language works for the
sake of improving one’s use of his own native language in preaching, particularly when
little time is available for preparation.
Learn, gentlemen, to put together, and unscrew all the machinery of language;
mark every cog, and wheel, and bolt, and rod, and you will feel the more free to
drive the engine, even at express speed should emergencies demand it (Lecture
X, “The Faculty of Impromptu Speech”).
The value Spurgeon saw in the mastery of grammar for the sake of preaching applies
equally to the task of exegesis. Spurgeon’s homiletical method was not thoroughly
expository; his mark on church history is not as an exegete. But the exegete profits
equally with the preacher from the grammatical labor that Spurgeon commends. As a
tool to enhance the success of that grammatical labor, good old sentence diagramming
is hard to improve upon.