David is not afraid though ten thousand should hem him in (Ps. 3:6) because the Lord sustains him. But let God even ever so little withdraw his support (Ps. 55), and fearfulness overtakes him and dread overwhelms him. It is clear that this man after God’s own heart has so little heart of his own when left to himself. God sometimes lets us fall so we can clearly see in whose strength we stand. He allows us to see the hand that holds us, to let us know that without him we are but men (Ps. 9:20). 

Behold, the hour cometh, yea, is now come, that ye shall be scattered, every man to his own, and shall leave me alone: and yet I am not alone, because the Father is with me, (John 16:32).
True friends multiply joy as well as lessen misery. Some of Christ’s truest friends on earth were his faithful apostles. But in his time of greatest need, the prophet Isaiah describes the Lord’s experience, “ I have trodden the winepress alone; and of the people there was none with me,” (Isa. 63:3). And in Psalm 69:21, “I looked for some to take pity, but there was none; and for comforters, but I found none.” In his time of extreme human need, Christ’s closest companions actually desert him rather than support him.
How truthfully he could say, “I came to my own, and my own would not receive me.” He came to the Jews, his chosen people, and they accused him of being a glutton, a winebibber, a blasphemer, and even Beelzebub himself (Matt. 11:19). In his own province in Galilee he is disregarded and disesteemed (Matt. 13:55; Mark 6:4). He comes to Jerusalem, whose inhabitants are enlightened by his sermons and amazed by his miracles, and still they break his heart. “O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, how often would I have gathered you… but you would not,” (Matt. 23:37). And that’s not all, for when he is arrested, Jesus is accused of treason against Caesar, sedition against the Law, enmity against the temple, and blasphemy against God. But this is not all.
When you look more closely, you find that many of his own disciples (2 Tim. 4:10) return to the love of this present world. “Many,” the text says in John 6:66, “drew back and walked no more with him.” But will his closest friends leave him too? Before they have said, “Master, to whom should we go? You have the words of eternal life.” And yet, when the sun beats hottest on them, how soon are they all withered. One betrays him, another swears against him, but all forsake him.
What does it mean that his own apostles forsake him? Scripture asks that if the light itself becomes dark, how great is that darkness? If the salt of the world loses its saltiness, how can it be effective? (Matt. 5:13).
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It is impossible to ignore the motif of victory in Christ’s work. Therefore Aulén’s contention that Christus Victor has been understated among Protestants is worth consideration. Towards the beginning of his book, Aulén outlines four reasons he believes the classic view has been neglected. One of them is his claim that many moderns find conflict imagery to be disagreeable, even primitive and crude. I saw this myself when sharing Oh, Sleeper lyrics with a friend. In one their tracks, God sings to Satan: “You’ll bow at my feet, or I’ll rip out your knees / and make of your face, all the carnage you crave.” My friend thought the imagery was unnecessarily violent and unsettling. But then so is a lot of what we read in the Bible.

Despite the criticisms levelled against Mel Gibson’s The Passion, especially from Protestant quarters, his portrayal of Gethsemane is profoundly theological. After pleading with the Father to be spared the cross, Jesus stands up and crushes a snake’s head. This striking imagery alludes to God’s promise in Genesis 3:15, “I will put enmity between you and the woman, and between your offspring and her offspring; he shall bruise your head, and you shall bruise his heel.” This has traditionally been called the protevangelion, meaning ‘first gospel.’ It promised that even though the reality for fallen humanity would be conflict with evil powers (Genesis 3:14), the promised end of that strife is victory. As Gibson depicts, Christ’s life was marked by conflict. Yet it ended in God’s promised conquest.
But where was that victory won? Identifying the serpent as Satan, in Revelation 12:11-12 we read that Satan was conquered by the blood of the Lamb. Mysteriously then, it is through his death—and resurrection—that Christ triumphs over evil and brings us back to God. To use an old but obscure word: at the cross Christ achieves ‘atonement.’
Atonement Theories
In my own experience, we often tend to downplay this dramatic struggle between God and evil when speaking about the atonement. But standing at either end of history we see a promise of conflict; and that same struggle climaxing in God’s victory. For these reasons, the Eastern Orthodox tradition (following the early church fathers) has long treated the Christus Victor view of atonement as primary—sometimes exclusively so. This view of the atonement received renewed attention amongst Protestants in the 20th century, thanks to Gustav Aulén.
Aulén outlined three views of the atonement: classic or dramatic (Christus Victor); objective (Latin); and subjective (Christus Exemplar). But for Aulén these were not three aspects of Christ’s unified work. Rather he set his classic view, or Christus Victor, over against the other two. Aulén’s view of the atonement centred on “divine conflict and victory.” However, the New Testament speaks of Christ’s atoning work in a variety of ways. These are related, even mutually dependant. Thus Kevin Vanhoozer urges us to think of a plurality of metaphors rather than polarised models.
In the remainder of this post I will briefly unpack Christus Victor using Aulén’s book and point out some of its undervalued strengths.
Introducing Christus Victor
In Aulén’s presentation of Christus Victor, Christ’s victory over the evil powers brings about a new relation between God and man, which we might call reconciliation or atonement. In the work of the Son, God reconciles man to God through conquering mankind’s enemies. This victory was dramatic, not dryly rational. In fact, Aulén described this divine drama as contra rationem et legam (against reason and law). It was not man atoning God through bearing his righteous judgment in our place, appropriated by an intellectual faith and resulting in imputed righteousness.
As Robert Letham writes: “Today there is almost universal distaste for thinking of God and salvation in legal categories.” Aulén certainly felt that the Latin (objective) view of the atonement was too rationalistic and abstract. There is some validity in his criticisms. Where Aulén comes unstuck is in claiming that Christ suffering the legal penalty for sin in our place cannot be fitted with the motif of victory.
An Atonement Theme; Not the Whole
One of the church’s leading historians, Justo González, writes: “From the very beginning the church proclaimed Jesus as its Saviour, and in the Patristic age there had been a variety of views as to how Christ saves sinners.” Thus Aulén overstates his position in claiming that Christus Victor dominated the church’s doctrine of salvation for the first millennium of its existence. Might we not see, in this variety of positions on the atonement that none can exclusively address the whole work of Christ?
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The ongoing debate over Bible translations is often marked by more heat than light. This is unfortunate and can also lead to unlawful divisions in the Body of Christ. Mark Ward and Christian McShaffrey are no strangers to the debate and have recently decided to conduct an experiment: Arguing a specific point in a calm and charitable manner. The following exchange is the result and we publish it here in good hope that it will serve as a model for all who find themselves standing on opposite sides of the issue (or anywhere in between).
Resolved: The Superior Accuracy of its Second-Person Pronouns Commends the Continued Use of the Authorized Version in Public Reading and Preaching

Christian (Affirmative Constructive)

Confusion over inspired pronouns is as old as the garden. When Satan first questioned God’s word, he also misquoted it by using a plural “ye” when God had spoken singularly, saying, “thou shalt not eat of the tree.” Eve, being deceived, repeated the wrong pronoun (cf. Gen. 2:17, 3:1-3). The discussion was over what God had said, so Eve should have quoted God’s word more accurately.
That is what this debate is about: accuracy. Modern translations of the Holy Bible no longer distinguish number between pronouns, and that compromises their accuracy.
Some readers may not remember what they learned in grammar school, so here is a quick review: second-person pronouns indicate the person, or people, being addressed by a speaker. The languages of original inspiration (Hebrew and Greek) distinguish the number of people being addressed, but contemporary English cannot. Our generic “you” can refer to an individual or a multitude.
The translators of the Authorized Version eliminated such ambiguity by using t-pronouns for the singular (thou) and y-pronouns for the plural (ye). These pronouns also distinguish case, but it may suffice for this debate only to focus on number. In that era, the ordinary “man on the street” did not speak this strictly. It was a translational decision intended to preserve accuracy, which is crucial when it comes to interpretation.
Besides the aforementioned example (which might have doctrinal implications concerning Adam’s federal headship), another example of the interpretive usefulness of numbered pronouns is found in Luke 22:31-32.
If you read the passage in a modern version, it appears as a personal conversation between Jesus and Peter. It certainly starts out as that, and also ends as that, but when Jesus says, “Satan hath desired to have you…” he was addressing all the apostles. Nothing in the context hints at that shift. Only a y-pronoun can convey it.
There are not many solutions when it comes to solving the problem of scriptural pronoun confusion, and all of them involve education. Here, it seems, are the options:
“Explain it, preacher.” This is an unacceptable solution because it makes people dependent upon fallible, and oftentimes incompetent, teachers. Every Bible reader deserves immediate access to the inspired words of God.
“Insert a footnote.” This option is definitely better, but it may overestimate grammar proficiency levels in America. A footnote that reads, “The original Greek employs a second-person nominative singular” may actually be less intelligible than an archaic pronoun.
“Teach the pronouns.” This is easier than most people imagine. Simply let a kindergarten teacher write the words thee and ye on the chalkboard, and ask the children about each: “How many points are on top of the first letter?” The students now know and, thanks to the added visual mnemonic, will never forget. More importantly, the kindergartener now has more immediate access to the inspired Hebrew and Greek than a professor of biblical languages who is reading the English Standard Version. By retaining the use of numbered pronouns, nothing is lost and much is gained.

Mark (Negative Constructive)

There is a sense in which I agree with the resolution as currently stated: the KJV’s second-person pronouns are more accurate—if what we mean is “closer in form”—to the Hebrew and Greek than are the second-person pronouns used in contemporary English.
But one must ask: what do we mean by “accurate”? I grew up in the fundamentalist world, where fornication is frowned upon because it leads to dancing; so I can’t say for sure how many people it takes to tango. But I’ve heard it’s two. A tango dancer may get all the steps “right,” but if he’s dancing by himself, what’s the point?
Likewise with communication: it takes a sender and a receiver. So I think clear communication of what God said _to the audience you actually have_ is the goal of translation. What else could it be? We are called to disciple the nations, and I’m going to have to presume that Christ intended each of us to reach the nations existing during our own lifetimes, or he would have outfitted us with time machines.
Do people in English-speaking nations understand the older forms thou and ye? Yes and no.

Yes: many contemporary English speakers understand that thou in “Thou shalt not kill” was a second-person pronoun. I think that many of them grasp, too, that thou was singular (and not plural) back then. Thou has hung around today in ways that bolled and bewray and many other Elizabethan words have not.
But no: I believe that a proper study would demonstrate that even experienced KJV readers have a hard time remembering that you in the KJV is always plural. Alas, I have a scientific study ready to go to check this, but I have no funding. I am stuck describing my own experience and making educated guesses at others’. I, for example, always misunderstood, “Let this mind be in you, which was also in Christ Jesus.” I always assumed it was singular, even for decades after I was formally taught that you in the KJV is plural. Why? Because it’s very difficult to make oneself forget what an incredibly common word means—and in our English, you “means” SINGULAR-OR-PLURAL-SECOND-PERSON-PRONOUN. I think the KJV is tangoing by itself in Phil 2; I think a lot of English speakers aren’t getting the message.

This, too, is key: older forms like ye don’t just communicate SECOND-PERSON PRONOUN; they also inject a note of solemnity, of archaism, perhaps even of humor. Imagine saying to a friend, “Art thou coming?” He would likely understand the strict literal meaning, but he’d (rightly) detect that you were trying to communicate something else. Who knows quite what? I think that making God sound like an Elizabethan does, yes, make him sound more grand. But it also makes him sound more grandiloquent. God did not choose archaic Greek in Paul’s day; he chose the common variety. We should do the same in English and use footnotes for clarification where needed.

Christian (Affirmative Rebuttal)

Yes, it takes two to tango and there is actually something worse than dancing alone: Allowing a third party to cut in. Due to the nature of inspiration, Bible translators should be concerned primarily with two parties: God and the original audience.
Per your example, unconverted nations need to hear what God said to the saints at Philippi. Explaining and applying those inspired words to a contemporary audience is properly the work of teaching, not translation (Matt. 28:19-20).
Your example also seems to bewray a deeper problem than misunderstanding pronouns. Namely, literary imperception. If the immediate contextual emphasis on like-mindedness, being of one accord, and esteeming others (vv. 2-4) does not incline the reader to anticipate a communal exhortation (vs. 5), nothing probably will.
As for the alleged difficulty of remembering the meaning of the AV’s pronouns, my previously suggested t/y mnemonic device has proven extremely effective in my congregation.
The “Art thou coming?” illustration is as ironic as it is unpersuasive because you employ humorously grandiloquent expressions often in your YouTube videos without any apparent concern over alienating the plowboys who are watching on their iPhones.
Your proposed solution of adding explanatory footnotes is simply not reasonable. I actually did this with the plural verb conjugations and pronouns in Phil. 2 and ended up with more footnotes than there are verses!
All personal anecdotes aside, you have essentially conceded the debate by agreeing that the AV’s pronouns are indeed superior in formal accuracy and offering no reasonably executable alternative.

Mark (Negative Rebuttal)

I plead guilty to occasional humorous grandiloquence on my YouTube channel. It’s other people’s fault if they come hear me—or the fault of algorithms (which, and this is a little known fact, get their name from a former US vice president cum tech inventor). But I learned long ago not to use obscure humor while preaching in church. Why? Well, nobody laughs. And a herald should not have only two audiences in mind; he needs, as I said earlier, to speak to the audience God gives him.
Bible translators, too, must translate not for the ideal reader who knows all they know but for the plow boy.
The answer KJV defenders always give to my English readability concerns is teaching. The plow boy must be taught to understand the more accurate and beautiful English of the KJV. And one would think that the second-person pronouns in the KJV provide a perfect opportunity. Many people already sort of know them from exposure to Shakespeare.
But in my experience, this teaching usually doesn’t happen. I can’t demonstrate this except from experience, however. So, in a way, I must admit defeat on the technical accuracy point of this debate (as I knew I would going in!)—if KJV preachers will do what Christian does and teach their people to understand archaic second-person pronouns. If KJV preachers can get their congregations to the point where 80% (?) of their members and regular attenders know that “let this mind be in you” is plural, I’ll willingly lose. My goal is just to see people understand God’s word! I think the number is rather at about 5%—but, again, I lack the resources to prove it (anyone want to fund a Barna study?).
But I don’t think Brother McShaffrey has answered my point about what the inclusion of archaic forms does to the overall feel of the language—the way it makes not just the humor in Scripture but practically every single line sound grandiloquent. He took my suggestion of footnotes and applied it woodenly. Contemporary translations don’t need to footnote every plural, anymore than they need to footnote “whom” in “knowing of whom thou hast learned them” (2 Tim 3:14).
What do I mean? Old English used to distinguish, as Greek does, between singular and plural relative pronouns (like “whom”), not just personal pronouns (like “you”). But KJV and modern Englishes have no way of making this distinction; the very finest grammatical details just don’t always come over easily from one language to another—but God’s truth still does.
Meanwhile, a value most people aren’t actually getting—accuracy—is trumping a value they have a right to, the Bible in their own English. Again I say, God had a chance to use archaic Greek but chose the language of the people. We should do the same, and use footnotes where careful Bible teachers judge that a little extra help might be beneficial for the plow boy.

Christian (Affirmative Rebuttal)

My opponent has admitted technical defeat, so I will simply tie up loose ends, agree on one point, and advocate for today’s plowboy.
As for loose ends, the language of the AV is technically Early Modern, not Old English. Also, I did not address the “overall feel” because that is entirely subjective. It does not “feel” quaint, humorous, or grandiloquent to me and, even if it did, why should I be surprised that an ancient book might actually sound ancient?
One point of agreement is this: If most preachers today are failing their people as alleged, they should repent or resign.
When it comes to the proverbial plowboy, let it be noted that Tyndale was not arguing for colloquial translations for the un-intelligentsia when he said, “If God spare my life, I will make a plowboy know more of the scripture than thou dost.” He was denouncing papal authority and, as a schoolmaster, simply wanted to help working-class folk understand scripture better than the priests. He succeeded.
Why should we effectively undo his work by making people dependent on a new priestly class of “careful Bible teachers” who “judge” whether and where to grant occasional insights to the inspired original via footnotes? Every man deserves immediate access to the inspired text and the grammatical precision of AV pronouns affords just that.
Finally, as one who homeschooled six children and pastored dozens more, I have personally seen the old adage proven: Most students rise—or fall—to the level of expectation.
Mark Ward (PhD, Bob Jones University) is the editor of Bible Study Magazine and author of its back-page column, “Word Nerd: Language and the Bible.” He is the author of several books and textbooks including Biblical Worldview: Creation, Fall, Redemption (BJU Press, 2016), Basics for a Biblical Worldview (BJU Press, 2021), and Authorized: The Use and Misuse of the King James Bible (Lexham Press, 2018), which became a Faithlife infotainment documentary. He is also an active (read: obsessive) YouTuber.
Christian McShaffrey (M. Div, Mid-America Reformed Seminary) is Pastor of Five Solas Church in Reedsburg, Wisconsin and also serves as Stated Clerk of the Presbytery of Minnesota and Wisconsin (OPC), editor-in-chief of the Text & Translation webzine, vice-chairman to the Bahnsen Institute, and on the Board of Visitors of Seminario Reformado de las Americas in Quito, Ecuador. He recently co-edited the anthology: Why I Preach from the Received Text.
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