It's All Greek (and Hebrew) to Me: The Septuagint & Masoretic Old Testament Debate
Why the Orthodox Church holds the Septuagint high but keeps the Hebrew close (with a little help from Eugen Pentiuc)
Today’s post is available in audio as well:
Sometimes a single comment from a thoughtful reader can open up a whole new line of inquiry, helping all readers dig a little deeper into Scripture and into our faith. After the recent article on “Demystifying the Septuagint,” a comment was received that touched on several crucial—and often misunderstood—aspects of Old Testament textual history.
The reader’s comment was this:
The Septuagint is the oldest complete version of the Old Testament that survives today. We don’t have a complete original Hebrew anymore, and the Masoretic Text is NOT the original Hebrew. Many people don’t understand that, including Martin Luther. Also, the reason we use the Septuagint is because it clearly points to Christ in the prophecies. It’s the version Christ used in the gospels to talk about Himself. The Masoretic (Hebrew) was created in about the 900s to standardize the reading of the text, adding dots and dashes to serve as vowels where there weren’t any because Hebrew alphabet has no vowels - to make sure the prophecies wouldn’t point to Christ as they clearly do in the Septuagint.
This is a fantastic summary of several common perceptions, questions, and even accusations that have swirled around the Septuagint (LXX) and the Masoretic Text (MT) for centuries. And it hits on some very real historical complexities. Our goal here is not to argue, but to engage these points squarely, relying on both the Church’s Tradition and the scholarship that illuminates it.
As mentioned in the previous article, this is a topic that requires dipping into rather expensive and not-so-accessible academic works—like the $200 Oxford Handbook of the Bible in Orthodox Christianity I used for the previous article. (Citations at bottom.)
It’s perfectly understandable that there’s a lot of confusion out there. So, let’s pour yet another cup of coffee and clarify some things for the benefit of all.
The “Septuagint”: Not One Book, but a Library
First, I’d like to address a common misconception: Just as “the Bible” isn’t so much a single book as a collection of books, “the Septuagint” is a not a single, monolithic volume OR translation either. So even the idea of “THE” Septuagint isn’t really true. It was, rather, a series of translations of various Hebrew (and some Aramaic) Old Testament texts into Greek, occurring over several centuries, primarily in Alexandria, Egypt. Pentiuc states directly that its “transmission history is ‘quite complex and convoluted,’ especially compared with later, more standardized texts.”
Imagine trying to collect every English translation of the Bible over, say, 500 years, with revisions, different translators for different books, and regional variations in the manuscripts. That’s closer to the reality of the how the Septuagint came to be.
These Greek translations evolved over time, went through “copying, revising, and even competing editions.” For instance, as mentioned before, the Greek version of Daniel commonly used in the East was not the oldest Septuagint version, but a later translation associated with Theodotion (2nd century AD). This alone tells us that even the Greek Old Testament wasn’t a single, fixed volume that simply “dropped from heaven in leather‑bound form,” as previously discussed.
So, while “the” Septuagint is indeed a remarkable ancient textual witness of great importance—and it is the oldest complete version of the Old Testament in any language to survive today—it’s more accurate to see it as a textual stream, a dynamic collection that became the Old Testament for Greek-speaking Judaism and, critically, for the early Church.
Providential Primacy: Why the Septuagint Is Our Bible
The question of why the Septuagint matters so much to the Orthodox Church is crucial, and on this point, the initial comment points to a key concept.
The early Church embraced the Septuagint quickly and instinctively, because it bore witness to Christ. As Pentiuc argues, for the Fathers, the Septuagint was a “missionary Bible,” which “helped prepare the nations to receive Christ. It let the Jewish Scriptures ‘speak Greek’ in a world where Greek was the common language.”
More than just a convenient translation during a time where Greek was increasingly spoken, it shaped the very language and theological mind of the Apostles and the early Christians. When the New Testament authors quote the Old Testament, they are overwhelmingly quoting the Septuagint. This isn’t a coincidence; it’s because this was their Bible, the Scripture that sounded in their ears, prayed in their synagogues, and proclaimed in their churches.
This means that the Septuagint became, for the Church, the definitive collection of Old Testament prophecies. It was the lens through which Christ’s coming was understood. It’s the language that resonates through our hymns, our homilies, and our iconography.
As stated in the previous article:
When one hears, ‘Orthodoxy reads the Septuagint,’ one should think: The Greek Old Testament that shaped our hymnography, preaching, and theological imagination from the beginning.
Masoretic Text: A Different Stream, a Resilient Witness
Now attention turns to the Masoretic Text (MT) and the common concern that it might have been altered to obscure Christ.
It’s indisputable that the Masoretic Text, as it is known today, was standardized much later than the Septuagint, primarily between the 7th and 10th centuries AD by Jewish scholars called the Masoretes. Their meticulous work involved adding vowel points (the “dots and dashes”) and accent marks to the consonantal Hebrew text. This was a monumental effort to preserve the pronunciation and reading tradition of the Hebrew Bible for future generations within their community.
The claim that the MT is not “the original Hebrew” in the sense of a single, unchanging source text that existed throughout all antiquity is also accurate. The Dead Sea Scrolls, discovered in the mid-20th century, revealed that even in the Second Temple period (the centuries immediately before and during Christ’s time), there was a diversity of Hebrew textual traditions. The Septuagint was often based on Hebrew manuscripts that reflected these earlier, diverse traditions. Some of these traditions differed from the particular textual stream that would eventually become the Masoretic Text.
Now, to the important point about accusations of deliberate alteration. It is historically significant that prominent Church Fathers did accuse Jews of altering the Hebrew Scriptures to obscure Christ—such as Saint Justin Martyr and Saint Irenaeus of Lyons (both 2nd century AD). This was part of a broader patristic concern rooted in heated theological polemics between Christians and Jews regarding the interpretation of prophecy. For these Fathers, certain Old Testament passages read differently in the Septuagint offered clearer prophetic witness to Christ, and they suspected that divergent Hebrew versions were a result of intentional changes to weaken that witness. This perspective, therefore, has indeed been part of Orthodox understanding of textual differences.
Adding to the complexity, this accusation was made over 500 years before there was any such thing as the MT, and many of the ancient Hebrew witnesses are in agreement with the LXX.
Moreover, according to Pentiuc, the dominant Orthodox scholarly understanding today is informed by the insights of modern textual research (which the Fathers themselves did not have access to), and tends to explain the differences between the LXX and MT in several other ways:
Different Hebrew Versions: The Septuagint translators worked from Hebrew manuscripts that were, in some cases, centuries older than those used by the Masoretes and belonged to different textual families. Essentially, the issue is that many of these textual variations were already present in the Hebrew.
Interpretive Variations: All translation involves some level of interpretation. The Greek translators had their own theological and linguistic nuances, as did the later Masoretes. Pentiuc argues that these were often good-faith efforts to understand and preserve the text according to their respective traditions.
Masoretic Goals: The Masoretes’ primary aim was to standardize their existing Hebrew tradition for their Jewish community, preserving its reading and pronunciation, not primarily to engage in theological warfare with Christians.
But to address the core theological concern embedded in the Fathers’ critique: even if textual differences exist, did they succeed in truly obscuring Christ in the Hebrew text?
The answer from Orthodox theology is a resounding no. Even with differences, the Holy Spirit ensures that the truth of Christ remains clear to those who seek Him. While the Church has long prioritized the Septuagint, it has consistently maintained space for the Hebrew witness—while St. Justin Martyr argues for Christ from the Septuagint, he also addresses Jewish appeals to the Hebrew text in his Dialogue with Trypho.
The Hebrew witness might require more careful reading, more theological discernment, and certainly the guidance of the Church’s Tradition, but the Old Testament, in any canonical form, ultimately points to Christ. The Spirit’s witness to the Son is more resilient than minor textual variations, and certainly far outlasting any human attempts to dim its light.
The Septuagint’s primacy does not itself mean there are no other witnesses! Pentiuc witnesses to this textual diversity when he discusses how the Fathers themselves were aware of different readings. He points out that in their commentaries, they would refer to “The Hebrew,” “The Samaritan,” and “Later versions” like those of Aquila, Symmachus, and Theodotion. This means the early Fathers were not oblivious to differences, and their faith in Christ was not shaken by them.
Reading Alongside: A Confident, Nuanced Orthodox Approach
So, what does this complex history mean for the Church today? It certainly doesn’t mean throwing up hands in confusion. Today we still hold the Septuagint with primacy for the Old testament, but it’s a nuanced primacy.
Pentiuc emphasizes that “modern Orthodox Bible translations tend to be more balanced and dispassionate in how they use textual witnesses.” I propose that an ideal contemporary approach is something like this:
LXX-Primary: Orthodox Old Testament translations remain primarily based on the Septuagint, especially for books where it is clearly the Church’s traditional text. This is frequently the norm because the LXX is more or less the Old Testament of the New Testament.
Broad Foundation: Translators also “consult the Hebrew, the Dead Sea Scrolls, the Peshitta (Syriac), and other versions,” particularly “where the Septuagint seems obscure, obviously secondary, or questions of transmission are at play.” This is not a sign of weakness, but a sign of scholarly and spiritual integrity.
The Orthodox Church practically lives and breathes out of the Septuagint historically, but she has frequently read it alongside other witnesses, not in isolation. This is a testament to the Tradition’s strength—not its fragility. The Church trusts that God’s inscriptured revelation is not so delicate that honest scrutiny or textual complexity will break it.
Conclusion
I’ve been working through many of these questions for years, and will likely continue to do so for years to come. Starting “Bad” Books of the Bible several years ago set me out on a path of textual exploration that has been nothing short of breathtaking and eye opening. Every time I think I’ve wrapped my head around the transmission of Scripture in history, there’s another layer or wrinkle that gives way to opportunity for further exploration.
The questions raised in the initial comment are important, and they give us an opportunity to consider how the Church engages with her sacred texts. It’s tempting to want a perfectly simple, linear story about “the Bible,” but the reality is more complex:
It’s a story of divine providence working through human hands;
of textual streams that evolved over time;
and of the Church prayerfully discerning the voice of Christ in her Scriptures across centuries.
The collection of Greek Old Testament that we have come to call the Septuagint remains the cherished, providential Old Testament—the voice through which the prophets spoke to the Apostles, the wellspring of Orthodox hymns, the bridge that carried Israel’s story into the Gentile world.
Yet the Church has never locked it away in splendid isolation. She has held it alongside other ancient witnesses—the Hebrew original, the Syriac streams, the patient comparisons of Origen’s Hexapla—always discerning, always prayerfully receiving, never afraid that truth might fall apart under honest scrutiny.
For readers today, there’s no need to be afraid of other text families. We approach the Old Testament with reverence, letting the LXX shape souls as it shaped the saints, but we can also understand its complex history. We have so many tools available today for the diligent student of Scripture to compare it with other texts when questions arise. The confident Orthodox believer can trust that the same Tradition that cherished the LXX is anchored in truth, so some embrace of textual diversity is not a threat. The Tradition magnifies Christ, and remains.
The Church returns again and again to the services: we hear the Psalms at Vespers, the prophecies at Matins, the Theotokos’s canticles, and every feast can tune our hearts to the rhythm of the Church. There, in the choir of the Church, the Septuagint still breathes—alive, echoing, pointing ever forward to the ever-breaking-through coming of the Kingdom of God.
Source
Pentiuc, Eugen J. The Oxford Handbook of the Bible in Orthodox Christianity. Oxford University Press, 2017. All quotes taken from pages 6-10.
Transmission history, Theodotion Daniel, missionary Bible, p. 6
Fathers consulting other versions, p. 7
Modern Orthodox translations, consulting other texts, p. 10