The Meaning of the Passive Voice

In the active voice, the subject of the verb performs an action on an object (e.g., “he finds the book”). The passive voice is essentially the opposite of the active voice: namely, the subject is the recipient of the action of the verb (e.g., “he is found”).

When the passive voice is employed, the preposition ὑπό (followed by the genitive case) is frequently employed to indicate the agency “by whom” or “by which” the action is accomplished: for example, “the word was spoken by the Lord (ὑπὸ κυρίου).” Thus, the presence of ὑπό can help you identify the use of the passive voice.

Given the similarities between Greek letters and English letters, it is important to note any important differences between them. In some cases, superficial resemblances can lead to significant errors. Writing Greek letters clearly is also an important aid to memorization. The following guidelines will help you form your letters correctly, especially in those cases in which a given Greek letter bears a strong resemblance to the Latin (English) letters you already know:

1. Not all Greek letters are the same height. Parts of the following letters are written below the line: β γ ζ η μ ξ ρ ϕ χ ψ ς.

2. Greek β should be made with one continuous stroke in contrast to English “b,” which is made with two strokes.

3. Never dot an ι (iota) and make sure it curls up at the bottom, unlike English “i.”

4. Greek κ should be half the height of English “k.”

5. Carefully form η to distinguish it from English “n.”

6. Carefully form ν to distinguish it from Greek υ and English “v.”

7. ξ is written below the bottom line.

8. Carefully form ρ to distinguish it from English “p,” which is made with two strokes.

9. Carefully form medial σ to distinguish it from Greek ο.

10. Carefully form Greek τ to distinguish it from English “t,” which is taller.

11. Carefully form the Greek letter υ, which is made with one stroke, not two. This will help you distinguish it from the English “u,” which is made with two strokes.

The Iota Subscript

A small ι is sometimes written under the vowels α, η, or ω, especially when they are final. This small ι is known as an iota subscript because it is written below (i.e., sub) the vowel. This iota subscript does not affect pronunciation. Vowels with an iota subscript are pronounced in the same way as the corresponding vowel without an iota subscript.

The use of the participle in the Greek New Testament is widespread. In fact, participles are used much more in Hellenistic Greek than they are in contemporary English. For this reason, participles constitute a very important part of Greek grammar, which must be thoroughly mastered.

The participle is often called a verbal adjective. In other words, a participle has characteristics of both verbs and adjectives. Like a verb, participles have tense (present, aorist, future, perfect) and voice (active, middle, passive). Like adjectives, they have gender (masculine, feminine, neuter), number (singular, plural), and case (nominative, genitive, etc.). Therefore, like the definite article and adjectives, every participle will have twenty-four forms. The participle is negated by μή.

Most English nouns and adjectives do not change their forms when their grammatical function changes, though there are exceptions. For example, the relative pronoun “who” can change to “whom” and “whose,” and, of course, many nouns form plurals by the addition of a final “s” or by a stem change (e.g., goose → geese).

In Greek, the situation is a good deal more complicated. Greek is an inflected language. This means that the endings of Greek nouns and adjectives decline, or are modified, to communicate grammatical information to the reader, such as gender, number, and grammatical function. To be precise, these nominal endings provide the following information:

1. grammatical gender: masculine, feminine, neuter

2. number: singular, plural

3. grammatical function

This is a list of principal parts of many of the irregular verbs that occur in the GNT. Principal parts that do not occur in the New Testament (either in a simple or compound form) are represented by a dash (―). All the forms are given in the first-person singular, indicative mood. Note that compound forms are given only in special cases. It is advisable to learn the principal parts both orally and in written form.

1. ἀγαπάω, ἀγαπήσω, ἠγάπησα, ἠγάπηκα, ἠγάπημαι, ἠγαπήθην

2. ἄγω, ἄξω, ἤγαγον/ἦξα, ἦχα, ἦγμαι, ἤχθην

3. αἱρέω, αἱρήσομαι, εἱλόμην εἱλάμην (cf. 2 aor. infin. ἐλεῖν)

4. αἴρω, ἀρῶ, ἦρα, ἦρκα, ἦρμαι, ἤρθην

5. ἀκούω, ἀκούσω/ἀκούσομαι, ἤκουσα, ἀκήκοα, ―, ἠκούσθην

6. ἀνοίγω, ἀνοίξω, ἀνέῳξα/ἤνοιξα/ἠνέῳξα, ἀνέῳγα, ἀνέῳγμαι/ηνέῳγμαι/ ἤνοιγμαι, ἀνεῴχθην/ἠνοίχθην/ἠνεῴχθην

7. ἀποθνῄσκω, ἀποθανοῦμαι, ἀπέθανον, ―, ―, ―

8. ἀπόλλυμι, ἀπολέσω/ἀπολῶ, ἀπώλεσα/ἀπωλόμην, ―, ἀπόλωλα

9. ἀποστέλλω, ἀποστελῶ, ἀπέστειλα, ἀπέσταλκα, ἀπέσταλμαι, ἀπεστάλην

10. ἀϕίημι, ἀϕήσω, ἀϕῆκα, ἀϕεῖκα, ἀϕεῖμαι, ἀϕέθην

11. βαίνω, βήσομαι, ἔβην, βέβηκα, ―, ―

12. βάλλω, βαλῶ, ἔβαλον/ἔβαλα, βέβληκα, βέβλημαι, ἐβλήθην

13. γίνομαι, γενήσομαι, ἐγενόμην, γέγονα, γεγένημαι, ἐγενήθην

14. γινώσκω, γνώσομαι, ἔγνων, ἔγνωκα, ἔγνωσμαι, ἐγνώσθην

15. γράϕω, γράψω, ἔγραψα, γέγραϕα, γέγραμμαι, ἐγράϕην

16. δείκνυμι, δείξω, ἔδειξα, ―, ―, ἐδείχθην

17. δέχομαι, δέξομαι, ἐδεξάμην, ―, δέδεγμαι, ἐδέχθην

18. διδάσκω, διδάξω, ἐδίδαξα, ―, ―, ἐδιδάχθην

19. δίδωμι, δώσω, ἔδωκα, δέδωκα, δέδομαι, ἐδόθην

20. ἐγείρω, ἐγερῶ, ἤγειρα, ―, ἐγήγερμαι, ἠγέρθην

21. ἔρχομαι, ἐλεύσομαι, ἦλθον, ἐλήλυθα

22. ἐσθίω, ϕάγομαι, ἔϕαγον, ―, ―, ―

23. εὑρίσκω, εὑρήσω, εὗρον, εὕρηκα, ―, εὑρέθην

24. ἔχω, ἕξω, ἔσχον, ἔσχηκα, ―, ―

25. ζάω (√ζη), ζήσω/ζήσομαι, ἔζησα, ―, ―, ―

26. ἵστημι, στήσω, ἔστησα/ἔστην, ἔστηκα, ἕσταμαι, ἐστάθην

27. καλέω, καλέσω, ἐκάλεσα, κέκληκα, κέκλημαι, ἐκλήθην

28. κηρύσσω, κηρύξω, ―, ἐκήρυξα, ―, κεκήρυγμαι, ἐκηρύχθην

29. κρίνω, κρινῶ, ἔκρινα, κέκρικα, κέκριμαι, ἐκρίθην

30. λαμβάνω, λήμψομαι, ἔλαβον, εἴληϕα, εἴλημμαι, ἐλήμϕθην

31. λέγω/ϕημί, ἐρῶ, εἶπον, εἴρηκα, εἴρημαι, ἐρρέθην/ἐρρήθην

32. μένω, μενῶ, ἔμείνα, μεμένηκα, ―, ―

33. οἶδα (pf.), εἰδήσω (fut.), ᾔδειν (plpf.)

34. ὁράω, ὄψομαι, εἶδον, ἑόρακα/ἑώρακα, ―, ὤϕθην

35. πάσχω, ―, ἔπαθον, πέπονθα, ―, ―

36. πείθω, πείσω, ἔπεισα, πέποιθα, πέπεισμαι, ἐπείσθην

37. πέμπω, πέμψω, ἔπεμψα, ―, ―, ἐπέμϕθην

38. πίμπλημι, ―, ἐπλησα, ―, ―, ἐπλήσθην

39. πίνω, πίομαι, ἔπιον, πέπωκα, ―, ἐπόθην

40. πίπτω, πεσοῦμαι, ἔπεσον/ἔπεσα, πέπτωκα, ―, ―

41. σῴζω, σώσω, ἔσωσα, σέσωκα, σέσῳσμαι/σέσωμαι, ἐσώθην

42. τάσσω, τάξομαι, ἔταξα, τέταχα, τέταγμαι, ἐτάχθην

43. τίκτω, τέξομαι, ἔτεκον, ―,―, ἐτέχθην

44. τίθημι, θήσω, ἔθηκα, τέθεικα, τέθειμαι, ἐτέθην

45. τρέϕω, ―, ἔθρεψα, ―, τέθραμμαι, ἐτράϕην

46. τυγχάνω, τϵύξομαι, ἔτυχον, τέτϵυχα, ―, ―

47. ϕέρω, οἴσω, ἤνεγκα, ἐνήνοχα, ἐνήνεγμαι, ἠνέχθην

Aspect of the Imperfect

The aspect of the imperfect tense is imperfective. In other words, the action is understood to be in progress, without reference to its final completion. Such an action may infer attempting, continuing, setting about, or beginning an action, depending on the context. As such, different English expressions are be required to translate the imperfect tense in different passages. For example, an imperfect tense might be translated by such English phrases as:

Uses of the Imperfect

In contrast to the aorist tense, the imperfect tense is usually employed selectively with a more nuanced range of connotations. When you encounter a verb in the imperfect tense, you should treat it with special care and try to determine whether a more nuanced meaning is implied, on the basis of context. Here are some possibilities:

This book examines the importance of Greek building and thought for the creation of architecture as Vitruvius understood it in a Roman context. In focusing on the central role of Greek practices of scale drawing and linear perspective, it considers the influence that Roman architecture drew on from Greek architects and concepts of craftsmanship. More than this, however, I explore the impact of the instruments and techniques of Greek architects on the classical understanding of the forms and mechanisms of nature and how the eye perceives them. Rather than demonstrating how classical architecture merely reflects the features of its larger cultural context, I try to show how the practices of Greek architects actively determined concepts about the world. In addition to classicists and historians of art and architecture, therefore, this book addresses readers interested in the history of philosophy and science, as well as architects who draw inspiration from the classical world.

In acknowledging only a small share of those directly involved with the realization of this work, I want to first thank my mentor, Fikret K. Yegül, who, in addition to training me in ancient art and architecture, read this book's manuscript in its entirety. His expertise allowed for the comments, criticisms, and insights necessary to elevate it above the artlessness of its first draft. Credit for the merits of this project must go to Beatrice Rehl, Publishing Director of Humanities and Social Sciences at Cambridge University Press.

See Chapter 3 and Figure 61.

If one may accept Haselberger's construction as the method for creating the euthyteria's curvature along its flanks of the temple at Segesta (Figure 61), one may well ask how the architect arrived at a maximum rise of .086 m. An attractive answer may emerge from the internal correspondences of the drawing itself. The maximum ordinate located above the center of the chord is 1.404 m from the center of the arc's diameter: 1.49 m − 0.086 m = 1.404 m.

Given the 1.49 m magnitude of the radius connecting the same center to the ends of the chord, the Pythagorean Theorem confirms Seybold's calculation of the length of the chord as ca. 1 m: with a hypotenuse of 1.49 m, the resulting sides are 1.404 m and .499 m, with the latter doubled to .998 m for the chord's full length. The chord therefore shares an integral 2:3 relationship with the radius of the arc: .998/2 = .499; .499 × 3 = 1.497 m. Despite the similarity of whole-number ratios, one can clearly see that the sagitta of .086 m does not establish modular relationships in the manner of the blueprint at Didyma; to be modular, the relationships would have to be integral, whereas .985 m/.0845 m = 11.166 m, and 1.478 m/.0845 m = 17.491 m.

See Chapter 3 and Figures 60, 62.

Measured from its central axis, the total radius of the blueprint's shaft (f-i) is ca. 1.01 m, with differences of only 1.5 mm between the widths of the top and bottom measurements. The top of the shaft where the arc intersects the chord measures 84.3 cm +/−0.1 cm (this portion of the drawing is not preserved, hence the uncertainty of .8429–8431 m for the restoration). Vertically, the drawing divides into the .3128 m base shown at 1:1 scale, and the 1.1857 m distance to the top of the drawing at d65 shown at 1:16 scale, resulting in a total height of 1.4985 m. The reduced-scale portion above the base measures 1.1232 m up to the level of the intersection of the arc and chord at d61a. At this level, the horizontal line does not conform to the regular intervals of dactyls of 1.85 cm, appearing instead 1.25 cm above d61, which Haselberger suggests may represent 2/3 of a single dactyl. As Haselberger concludes, the drawn shaft's total height to this point is therefore 60 2/3 dactyls, roughly corresponding to the built shaft's height of 60 3/4 feet.

The significance of this dimension becomes apparent in relation to the other dimensions within the drawing. As b, its relationship to e as the total height of the drawing from the bottom of the base to d65 is an integral 3:4 ratio: (1.123 m/3) × 4 = 1.4973 m, a negligible difference of −1.2 mm from 1.4985 m as measured in the drawing.

One of the chief aims of Vitruvius' treatise was to convey that architectura is more than a practical pursuit. In the words of Andrew Wallace-Hadrill, rather, it is “an expression of deep rational structures, of ordinatio and dispositio, of eurythmia and symmetria, that can give to the built environment a logic and order that is underpinned by the deeper logic and order of nature.” There is no reason to doubt that Vitruvius himself truly believed in this view of architecture and the ordering power of the procedures and principles of Greek origin (ordinatio, dispositio, eurythmia, and symmetria) of which architecture consists. Yet Vitruvius likely would have been surprised by the present study's suggestion that the structures and mechanisms of nature reflected in architecture were born of a particular way of seeing that itself came into being largely through repeated habits of drawing in the art of building. This final chapter continues this theme by focusing on Vitruvius' writing about the Greek methods and criteria of good drawing that define the ideai of architecture (ichnography, elevation drawing, and linear perspective) and the observable presence of these qualities in the physical products of the techniques that produced them. Lastly, it briefly addresses the shaping of space in Hellenistic and Roman buildings and complexes as an outcome of a particular kind of vision in the architecture leading towards and postdating Vitruvius.