Harper II.15
James Dodson
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CHAPTER XV.
THE PRECEPTIVE THEORY EXAMINED—ARGUMENT AGAINST IT FROM THE SILENCE OF THE NEW TESTAMENT—MEANING OF PSALLO.
Two of the items of New Testament evidence, alleged to be favorable to the retention of instrumental music in worship, even after the abrogation of the Jewish ceremonies, having been examined, the third and last item must now be weighed. This, it will be remembered, turns on the meaning of the word psallo, which occurs in a few texts, having or supposed to have a bearing on the worship of the New Testament church. This verb occurs only five times in the Greek Testament, namely in Rom. 15:9; Eph. 5:19; Jas. 5:13, and twice in 1 Cor. 14:15. In the text named it is intimated that whatever is meant by this verb, might and should be done in worship during the New Testament times. But it is asserted that the word in question means to sing with an instrumental accompaniment, and hence it is contended that instrumental music should, or at least, may have a place in the worship of God now. It behooves us, therefore, to look carefully into a word supposed to be fraught with such a consequence. This verb is commonly supposed to be derived from “psao,” meaning to touch, and signified in successive stages of its history, to touch lightly and quickly, to twitch or twang, to play on a stringed instrument, to play on the harp as an accompaniment of singing, to sing, to sing to or in honor of any one, that is to praise in song. It would be easy to swell these pages by quoting definitions of the word from various authorities in lexicography, or interpretation; but I choose to forbear in this matter. This may be said, however, that while there is a general agreement that the word, at least in classical usage, involved the idea of playing on an instrument, particularly a stringed instrument, there are very many who maintain or admit that it came, in the lapse of time, to mean simply the act of singing. So strong is the evidence that the word at length lost the reference to instrumental music, and retained that of singing or praising, that Dr. Charles Hodge, though connected with a church which permits instrumental music in worship, frankly says, that in the New Testament psallo means, simply, to sing. See his commentary on 1st Cor. 14:15. It is worthy also of notice that in the English translations of the New Testament, which have been in use to any considerable extent, the word is always rendered to “sing,” not to “play and sing,” or “sing and play.” It is so in our authorized version. It is so in the recently issued Revised version. It was so in the earlier version, and even in the Rheims version, made by Roman Catholic scholars. In the version last named, the rendering in Eph. 5:19, is “chanting and singing,” instead of, “singing and making melody,” as given in our authorized version. There seems to have existed in the minds of the historic translators, the very idea for which we now argue, that in the apostolic age, psallo had lost its instrumental sense, and meant merely to sing or praise. If it had been the view of those men that an allusion to instrumental music is involved in the word, they could have found words in English to indicate that allusion. The fact that they resorted to
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no such means for exhibiting the alleged allusion shows that they did not believe it to exist. Even in Jas. 5:13, where the Revised version deviates from the authorized version, the change has not been made in favor of instrumental music, but rather the contrary, for instead of “let him sing psalms,” as it is in the old version, the New has, “let him sing praise.” How easy it would have been, when making a change at all, the propriety of which is very questionable, to have brought out the full force of the original, as some would have us understand it, by translating thus, “let him sing and play,” or, “let him sing praise with an instrumental accompaniment.”
There are reasons for thinking, that at the time when the New Testament was written, psallo had gradually lost its earlier reference to instruments and acquired the sense of singing simply, or of singing praise. Some reasons for so thinking are here subjoined.
(1.) Such a change is not at all antecedently improbable. Those, acquainted with the history of any language, can easily recall numerous instances of greater changes in the meaning of words, than we now suppose to have occurred in the case of psallo. For instance, our word, choir, which means a company of singers, comes from a Greek word, which denoted, first, a circle, then a circular dance or a circle of dancers, then a band of singers and dancers, and finally a band of singers without any reference to a dance. Out of a multitude of available illustrations of the mutability of words let the example now given, suffice.
(2.) It is admitted on all hands, that the word we are now considering, psallo, did manifest, in the course of its history, very considerable mutation. Meaning radically to touch gently, or twitch, it came to mean, to twang the bow-string in archery, to play on a stringed instrument with the fingers, with a plectrum or striking implement; then to sing and play. It is easy to see how a word, evincing such fluctuation in sense, could finally lose the signification of thrumming and playing altogether, and assume that of singing simply. The supposition we make, therefore, so far from being incredible, is not even improbable, nay, it might almost be said is rendered probable, by the variation confessedly traceable in the history of this word.
(3.) There is reason to think, that nearly three centuries before the birth of Christ, when the translation of the Old Testament from the original Hebrew into Greek, known as the Septuagint translation, was made, this word psallo was in a state of transition, the older sense of singing with an instrumental accompaniment not having entirely disappeared, though giving place rapidly to the sense of singing simply, or of praising in song. This assumption seems best of all to meet and explain all the facts in the use of psallo by the authors of that venerable translation, and by subsequent writers. Among the facts alluded to are these, that in the Septuagint, psallo is apt to be employed when instruments of music are named or suggested in the context; and that on the other hand, when no instrument is named or plainly suggested, it is used seemingly in the general sense of praising by song. One thing is obvious, that the Seventy considered psallo, as a proper equivalent of the Hebrew “zimmēr,” the Piel form of the verb “zamar.” Plainly,
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the authors of the Septuagint version, regarded psallo as the most exact rendering of “zimmēr,” although in one instance at least, they have used another verb, “hummed,” as the translation of “zimmēr.” Now some aid may be derived from “zimmēr” in determining the importance of psallo. If “zimmēr” can be proved to have had considerable latitude of meaning, the legitimate inference would be, that the Seventy used psallo with like latitude, its modal sense of singing with an instrument being little, if at all regarded.
Turning to zamar, which, in different modifications, occurs forty-eight times in the Hebrew scripture, forty-five of these being of the Piel form, we find much diversity of opinion as to the primary meaning of it. The older Hebraists recognized but one root of this form, and this they supposed primarily meant to cut. To this central meaning they were wont to trace the two uses or applications made of the word; one of these being to prune, in which it occurs thrice, namely, in Lev. 25:3, 4, where it is in the Kal species, and in Isa. 5:6, where it is in the Niphal species, and the other being to praise in song or in rhythmical language. But by what process of thought, could a word which originally meant to cut, come to bear significations so diverse as pruning and praising? Might it not have come thus:—To prune is to cut off, or remove redundancies, and to praise in song, especially in Hebrew, implies a process of cutting off, and the reduction of thought to certain measures and limits. Beza, Drusius, Leigh, Parkhurst and Lowth, are among the number of those who have expressly favored this view. In his “Preliminary Dissertations” to his Translation of Isaiah, Lowth, adverting to this point, says, “This peculiar conformation of sentences, short, concise, with frequent pauses and regular intervals, divided into pairs for the most part of corresponding lines, is the most evident characteristic now remaining of poetry among the Hebrews as distinguished from prose, and this, I suppose, is what is implied in the name ‘mizmor,’ which I understand to be the proper name for verse, that is for numerous, rhythmical, or metrical language.”
The opinion which now prevails among the best Hebrew scholars is that there are two distinct roots of the same form, zamar, one denoting to cut or prune, and the other to produce musical sounds. But it is a question still whether the sound primarily meant is that made by the human voice, or that produced on instrumental strings. Gesenius, a high authority, pronounces in favor of the latter view, and understands the Piel, zimmēr, to have meant primarily to play on a stringed instrument, and then to sing with an instrumental accompaniment.
Now, the judgment of Gesenius in such a question is entitled to great respect, but it is far from being final or conclusive. Hupfeld, hardly if at all inferior to Gesenius in Hebrew scholarship, regards humming or singing as the central and primary meaning of this word, while Fuerst, the peer at least of Gesenius in Oriental learning, and enjoying the advantage of that great scholar’s researches, holds that zamar meant originally to hum with the voice, to sing, and only from association of instrumental music with singing to have come by degrees to be suggestive of such music, but that in this last case it is attended by the name of the instrument with a connecting preposition.
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I believe that Fuerst’s view is substantially correct, and that zimmēr contains in itself no allusion to instrumental music; although being sometimes coupled with the name of an instrument, it may have become so far suggestive of an instrumental performance that the translators employed psallo nearly always as its equivalent.
As an acute writer, Rev. Robert Nevin, has observed, the word “play” in English does not suggest the production of instrumental music, unless an instrument is named, or is from the connection implied. “Will you play?” may mean “Will you play at billiards,” just as readily as, “Will you play on the piano?” the connection or circumstances determining in which of these senses, or in what other sense, the word, in any given case is to be taken. In like manner, the word zimmēr, while suggesting the idea of musical sounds or rhythmical modulations, does not of itself indicate that these are produced by, or in connection with an instrument. In order to present this idea the instrument must be named or plainly suggested in the context. There is no more reason for saying that zimmēr means to play on an instrument, because it is sometimes attended with the mention of instruments, then for saying that “halal” means this, for it, too, is often attended with similar mention. Yet who will say that “halal” means to make instrumental music, or to sing with such music? In Ps. 33:2, the Hebrew verb “yadhah,” is followed by a preposition which connects it with the name of an instrument, yet who will venture to affirm that “yadhah” means to produce instrumental music?
The generic meaning of zimmēr seems to be to celebrate or praise in a musical, or rhythmical way, without specifying whether with music, vocal or instrumental, or both combined, although vocal would be more readily understood, unless something external to the word indicated something else.
Guided by Fuerst’s Hebrew Concordance, I have examined every instance in which zimmēr occurs in the Old Testament, and have found that only in six instances, if I have computed aright, is an instrument named in connection with it; the connection being made by an intervening preposition. In eight instances it is connected directly with the name of God, the object of praise, and must mean to extol or celebrate. In these cases how grotesque would it sound were we to translate thus, “I will sing and play God!” Feeling this, the Septuagint translators have supplied a preposition equivalent to our word “to.” This, however, they have done unwarrantably, as the verb plainly means, to praise or laud. The verb is connected, by a preposition, with God, the object of praise, in twenty-two instances, an instrument being named in only five of those occurrences. In nearly all the other occurrences of the word, it either governs directly the word “name,” that is the name of God, or is connected with it by a preposition. Before passing from this point, it is but candid to state, that Delitzsch, an acknowledged authority in Hebrew learning, holds that zimmēr means to make music on stringed instruments, although, in his commentaries, he has not adhered to this rendering, which is one that would probably be as inconvenient to the advocates, as to the opponents of an organ in worship.