How would you feel if someone changed your wording in your own writing?
Imagine expressing a thought with precise language, only to have someone replace a carefully chosen verb with another—one that subtly but profoundly alters the meaning. This is precisely what has happened to the Greek verb ἐγένετο (aorist middle of γίγνομαι) in virtually all modern English translations of Luke 24:19 and many other verses.
The Distinction: Being vs. Becoming
The verb ἐγένετο does not simply mean “was.” It means became, came to be, came into existence, or entered into a state. It is a verb of emergence, transition, or historical realization. This nuance matters. In Greek, if one wished to convey the idea of a continuous or existing state, the correct verb would be εἰμί, whose imperfect form ἦν indeed means “was.” The New Testament uses this verb εἰμί to be around 2479 times and the ἦν was form specifically over 315 times. The author knows what he is writing.
To confuse these verbs—γίγνομαι and εἰμί—is not only grammatically imprecise but philosophically careless. It shows no regard for the author’s intent, who, as a Greek writer, knows very well the difference. The Greek language, shaped by thinkers like Heraclitus, Plato, and Aristotle, upholds a sharp semantic boundary between being (εἶναι) and becoming (γίγνεσθαι). Collapsing them in translation collapses this conceptual clarity.
For example Luke 24:19:
ὃς ἐγένετο ἀνὴρ προφήτης
“Who became a male, a prophet, a powerful one…”
The aorist verb ἐγένετο here indicates an emerging as a prophet and powerful one.
The Translations: A Flattening of Meaning
And yet, nearly every major English translation renders this as “was”:
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NIV: “He was a prophet…”
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ESV: “A man who was a prophet…”
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KJV: “Which was a prophet…”
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CSB, NASB, ASV, NAB, etc.: “Who was a prophet…”
This is not a neutral rendering. It erases the dynamism inherent in the Greek and substitutes a static interpretation for a narrative one. The contrast becomes even more striking when we consider that Genesis 1:3 (LXX) uses the same verb:
καὶ ἐγένετο φῶς — “and a light came into being.”
Not: “and there was light.”
Why such carelessness?
Outliers and Ambiguities
Only a handful of literalist translations dare to preserve the true value of ἐγένετο:
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Young’s Literal Translation: “Who became a man — a prophet…”
Preserves ἐγένετο, though hedges by narrowing “became” to “man” only. -
Literal Standard Version: “Who became a man—a prophet…”
Faithful to the dynamic sense, but follows the hedging of YLT. -
NASB: “Who proved to be a prophet…”
⚠️ A crafty workaround!—acknowledging process, but editorializing it. “Proved” is not what is written.
Most others gloss over the change. The result? A neutered text that obscures the emergence of Salvation within the narrative context of Luke.
A Question of Integrity
Why this uniform distortion? Is it doctrinal caution? Linguistic laziness? Perhaps the translators find “was” more palatable or theologically safe. But from a philological standpoint, this is a failure of fidelity to the source.
By what authority do translators so freely exchange fundamental lexical categories?
This is not merely stylistic preference—it is semantic revision. The integrity of translation lies in preserving meaning, not smoothing over nuance.
A faithful translation would not only render what was said, but how it was said—and what the original words meant within their linguistic and cultural framework. Anything less is not translation; it’s substitution. If you can’t be trusted in the little, how can you be trusted with the great?