Learn Aramaic, Part I

In my first semester of this PhD program, I'm taking an Aramaic class. We are using the Inductive Guide to Reading Biblical Aramaic by E. Cook, F.W. Bush, and W.S. Lasor as the primary organizer. This guide is not a formal textbook which lays out the language in organized fashion. Instead, it directs me to look at the first verse in Aramaic, which is Daniel 2:4b. Then it directs me to examine the first word. Next, the guide tells me to look up facts about that word in A Grammar of Biblical Aramaic by Franz Rosenthal (originally written in German, decades ago, now translated into English). Rosenthal's grammar notes are cryptic. For example, grammar note R12 says:

In a number of cases, according to the Masorites, words written (ketiv) in one way are to be read (qere) in another . . . The often expressed a priori assumption that the consonant text (ketiv) represents the more original form of the text is, as far as BA is concerned, a dangerous oversimplification (16).   

"Well," I say to myself, "that would never do. We do not want to over-simplify the language as we learn it!" So I progress to more advanced notes. Grammar note R18 says:

Seeming exceptions to these rules require an explanation. Thus, "judges" in E 7:27 should be read ****(Hebrew word); consequently it cannot be Aramaic but a loan word from the Canaanite-Hebrew family. *** "innocence" must be a legal loan word from the Akkadian, because the original root was dkw. Likewise, **** "he completed" E 6:15 must be an Akkadian loan word if only because the development of the original root (###, Aramaic, ##, ##) has * (20).

This is the method. I look at the words. I look at the notes. I translate the word (if I can). But I do not attempt to read any Akkadian, since I have not learned it.

Unfortunately, the print in the second grammar is small. Sometimes I can't discern the vowel markings, so I must guess, or I must hunt for the specific Aramaic terms in my Bible software. With this inductive method, translating Daniel 2:4b takes two hours. In the first week, our assignment is to briefly overview the entire language (somehow), translate 19 verses from Daniel 2, and take a quiz on anything in the first 5 verses.

I feel a bit like Dorothy in Oz. I'm a long way from home. So I do as much as I can manage, then I make a strong cup of coffee and stare out the window.

This morning, when I look at the vowel pronunciation chart in Rosenthal's grammar, I read this description for pronouncing the Aramaic vowel ayin:

Voiced laryngeal (similar to the sound of incipient vomiting) (11).

I am not making this up. First, what does that even mean? Second, why would I want to become proficient at it? Third, why on earth would any culture develop such a sound and use it often? What is wrong with these people?

Your comments and condolences are welcome.

Step Away

"I am always doing that which I cannot do, in order that I may learn to do it." - Picasso

Bit by bit, we are moving into our new home. Every day, we unpack or clean or construct something. After a week in Pennsylvania, we are still surrounded by boxes, but the shape of a dwelling place is beginning to surface.

As we move in, I'm also trying to become familiar with my surroundings and adapt to a new school and curriculum. It's is a lot to do all at once.

I'm trying to be patient with myself and remember that I'm learning, and that learning is not neat or linear. There are many unexpected developments. My expectations are merely estimates. Learning does not always feel like measurable progress. In fact, my feelings about my new life change from day to day.

Viewing myself as a learner helps me live under grace. This is very important. I'm committed to working hard, but I'm also relying on the grace of God to meet me when I work. So far, I have not performed as well I had hoped, in any area. But I know from experience that this matters less than I think it does. Instead, it's far more important to pace myself as I keep taking another step forward.

When I become overwhelmed or discouraged, I also need to take a break. I need to take a nap or go out for coffee or look at something interesting. I need to step away, physically and mentally. After many years of striving towards goals, I finally understand that I don't need to fix the feeling of being overwhelmed or discouraged. If I can step away and rest, then I will have enough energy to take the next step forward. That single tactic is better than all other solutions which might be applied to "fix" or "cure" my perspective.

Everything that happens to me can be a source of learning, if I let it be. I'm a life-long learner on a path of learning. And learning includes making mistakes, taking longer than I expected, and being concerned about progress. But if I manage my learning stress by stepping away for recovery, this will help me persevere.

Bear Fruit

The fruit of the righteous is a tree of life,

And whoever captures souls is wise.

- Proverbs 11:30

This weekend, we arrived in our new location. September is suddenly breezy, not muggy. Leaves outside our new dining room window curl at the edges with a suggestion of burgundy. An ornate stone church rises above the tree line, two blocks away.

At the nearby Fresh Market, I found my favorite coffee and some Pennsylvania apples. Soon, the apples will grace my grandmother's round table. After a seven-year hiatus,the table has been  pulled from storage at last. Today, I'm applying a layer of Johnson's paste wax with a soft cloth. The warm wood glows like amber in the autumn light, and I have begun to think about Christmas.

Being here is a gift.

A new season begins at the end of our last one. I pray that I will be awake to joy and meaning while I'm in it, even when pressed by the demands of my doctoral program. A heavy workload awaits, which I intend to embrace, but it would be a serious mistake for me to make this season only about work. For the fruit of it should be a changed life, which changes lives, and that means I need to be fully present.