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.

Cross Over

Only those who will risk going too far will find out how far one can possibly go.                                                                                                            - T.S. Eliot

This week, we will cross over from one life into the next. Everything will be shifted, shaken, and scrambled. I'm grateful that we downsized ourselves before coming south seven years ago. At the same time, this move won't be quite like any other we've experienced. It will be a move in stages: we will drive ten hours north to our destination, and then another four hours north to pick up furniture from storage. The dust will barely settle onto our new floors before I start my doctoral program.

Last week, I read my fall syllabi and ordered  25 essential books. The coursework does not look humanly possible. But that's the least of my concerns at the moment. As much as I would like to start reading, I can't, because I'm still studying for the Greek and Hebrew exams which I will take on Monday and Tuesday. Then, we will move out on Wednesday. We will drive ten hours north on Thursday. We will go get some of our furniture from storage on Friday. After all of this, we will have a weekend to settle ourselves before I'm on campus all day on Tuesday.

As I look ahead, our schedule feels brisk and tight. I try not to worry. I try to sleep as long as I can. In my waking hours, I study, pack boxes, and run errands. Now, I find it very funny that I once thought the homeschooling years would be my most demanding. The pace, volume and intensity of my life seem to be increasing in middle age. I never would have guessed that this particular venture could be part of my story. God is merciful, for he only shows me one chapter at the time.

In the last few years, I have learned a truth which is both practical and encouraging. Wherever I go, the sanctuary of God's presence goes with me. When Jesus promised, "I will never leave you or forsake you . . . I am with you," he meant it. He wasn't talking figuratively. That wonderful stillness and peace, that center of calm, where perspective and strength are infused into my weakness and timidity, that place remains, and I can walk into it anywhere like an empty room, and talk to him and find my bearings again. His sanctuary gives me hope that I will endure, I will be steadfast, and I will be whole at the end.

Love

This morning I'm watching the light rise in the sky. The ceiling of the world shifts gradually from midnight navy to deep cerulean to baby blue. The sun catches the clouds one by one and washes them pink. DiMarco’s song, “It is Well,” is playing, and I remember all those nights over the last five years when I walked and sang to myself under the stars, trusting that somehow God’s grace upon grace would be enough to pull me forward. My life felt like a small boat in a storm, far from familiar shores. There were weeks when I could not get my bearings at all. The person I thought I was seemed to have been an illusion – a temporary skin which worked for me in a season and now must be shed. But the agony was that shedding my old skin left me raw and vulnerable. I did not recognize the new person staring back at me in the mirror. I have changed more in the last five years that in any other period of my life.

What transformed me? Most of all, reading the text of the Bible in the original languages. I’m grateful for our English translations, because they give us the basic content and narrative lines. We have the gospel—the good news, and it is life-giving! But encountering the original text was like finally meeting the child one has carried in the womb for nine months. I am deeply altered by a great, consuming love for the child. No one ever explained to me that I might love the text like this and, if I did, it would change my universe.

This educational journey all started with a simple decision: I wanted to love God with all of my mind. In order to do that, I wanted to focus on pursuing a disciplined, systematic study of the scriptures. Once my commitment was launched and it had a location (in a seminary), my life became stressful, complicated, and challenging. Every week, I wondered if I could actually get all the work done. It seemed strange that so many additional requirements could be attached to one simple decision to love. But isn’t that just like bringing a new baby home? At first glance, loving the baby is simple, and then it will never be simple again.

Now, as I look back over these five years, I see love. From this distance, I can see that love pushed my boat forward on stormy waters, far from home, and love inspired me to give my best years to study, and love changed me in the journey. The transformation came because love was directed towards grasping the truth of God, and God was pleased to meet with me and engage me in learning.  

Truth in love was the reason I came here to study. 
Truth in love is the reason why I have changed. 
Truth in love is why I'm moving forward to more learning.  

Here’s the song I used to sing to myself at night: “It is Well,” by Kristene DiMarco.

Rejuvenate

Crunch time has arrived. Exams, moving, and orientation will happen in rapid succession in two weeks. I'm still behind schedule, mostly from being sick for ten days. Although I was taking good care of myself, I caught a summer cold. The good news is that I'm recovering without any complications. There isn't anything wrong with me or with my life. We are merely navigating the ordinary turbulence of moving and entering a new, advanced, academic program. The bad news is that August just became much more challenging. When I think about what must be done, I feel overwhelmed.

Surely you know what I mean. Stressful times come to all of us, and we have to find ways to keep going, ways to stay strong. I have to force myself to focus on the next step. I have to guard myself from the twin dysfunctions of worry and procrastination. On nights when I lie awake for a while, I have to deliberately remember the truth I know. Above all, I have to decide to be grateful. For these needs, I appreciate your prayers for wisdom, endurance, efficiency, and peace.

On a funny note, after ten days indoors, I went on a shopping spree yesterday with a pile of gift cards which I had been saving. For those of you who may recall my aversion for retail activity, this is hilarious. But I had a great time! I lingered over a blonde Strarbucks misto coffee, fresh fruit, granola, and date rolls. I bought needed clothing from three nice stores to refresh my tired wardrobe. I splurged on my favorite coffee beans at The Fresh Market. I got a hair cut which I like better than I have liked any haircut in years. I went out in the morning feeling tired, strained, and discourged. In the afternoon, I returned home energized, smiling, and ready to work. As I said to Chris, "I feel like a princess." A big thank-you goes out to all of you who have given me a gift card over the past year. You were in a fresh breeze in the sails of my little boat. This was more than a little retail therapy: it was a self-care session which will benefit me for weeks.

A month from now, I hope to be settled into my new location with classes and textbooks! Won't that be amazing?

Give Away

This afternoon, Chris returned from the AEJMC 2016 Conference where he presented four papers and won a second place award in his category. I'm very proud of him!

I have not been nearly as productive as my husband. Instead, I have been resting this weekend, because I caught a heavy summer cold. Those three words sound ironic and witty, but they are the best description for what I'm experiencing. I took three naps yesterday.

We are moving closer and closer to our deadlines: several will soon arrive in rapid succession. I'm "behind" in nearly every area, in spite of steady effort. My next strategy is to remove things from my backpack (re: last week's post). No one likes it when I do this, including me.

Tonight I had a very encouraging thought: I can scarcely remember what I have eliminated in the past when I was pressed as I strained towards a goal. But I do recall the thrill of achievement in the end. This is precisely what lies at the heart of simplicity.

For true simplicity is restraint exercised for a purpose. When purpose drives restraint, and purpose is the focus, purpose is remembered. One of my favorite quotes about this is from Winston Churchill:

Why is it that the ship beats the waves when the waves are so many and the ship is one? The reason is that the ship has a purpose.

There is something more I should tell you. When I do this, when I let go of what I wanted to keep, so that I may reach for what God wants, he turns my sacrifices and reluctant restraint into joyous acts.  To give away for God's purpose is to celebrate him above other things.

In exchange for my small pieces of life, I receive overflowing joy and life so great that I cannot hold all of it. I know this. I have proved it, over and over. So let the giving away begin.

Click on the picture to enjoy the worship song, "Heroes," by Amanda Cook.