29 ¿Se Habla Español?: REFLECTION, Thursday, May 28th

Acts 22

Learning a language is an affair of the heart. I did not fall for German in seventh grade at Ridgeview Junior High despite Miss Steinhaus’s svelte appearance and academic encouragement. What would have happened if, at that tender age, I’d enrolled instead in Spanish? Señor Rodriguez had seemed wound awfully tight, and Miss Steinhaus then presented as the better bet; though one year of German did me in.

My first linguistic crush came in college as I ventured classical Greek, and my heart fully quickened when introduced to the vulgar Koine of the New Testament in seminary. I prefer to think I was fired up in seminary, not because Koine Greek is vulgar, but because it was the language in which the Epistles of St. Paul, the synoptic Gospels, the mystical heights of St. John, and all other musing over the meaning of Christ were penned.

Language is about much more than a strict conveyance of information. There is context, nuance, argots and subtlety. To indwell a language not one’s own is to sip the liquor of a culture to which one has not been born, and to glimpse the lay of the land behind the eyes of a stranger. Blessed are those born to bilingualism, for their souls shall venture far realms.

When in Haiti, I studied Creole, and when in Turkey, Turkish. It seemed the courteous thing to do, and I managed enough of each to accomplish essentials. “Akşam yemeğı ıçın çok teşekkqür ederım…allahasismarladik” Thanks much for dinner…have a good evening!”

Spanish came as an arranged marriage. At some point in Turkish class at Incirlik it dawned on me that there were few Turks back home in LA, and a very great many Armenians. Acquired spoken Turkish would be of limited use, and perhaps, uttered in public, place one in peril. (I proved my own suspicion once by using Turkish words to request Armenian food in a Middle Eastern restaurant in Pasadena which looked, to my eyes, identical to the Turkish version). “You may leave now, sir” the waiter’s glare told me.

Spanish, it belatedly dawned on me…would be useful. So, I shook my own hand there on the Cilician Plain and agreed to apply myself to archaeological sites in Turkey and to Spanish when I returned to Southern California. That is what I did. Our arranged marriage has worked out very well, and I love Spanish quite profoundly, though I suspect her eyebrows are perpetually raised as I express my affection for her in the faulty subjunctive.

St. Paul spoke excellent Greek, and also Aramaic and Hebrew. This eases the skids for him more than once. As the tribune is about to question him at the conclusion of the Book of Acts chapter 21, Paul speaks to the tribune in Greek, which is all Paul needs to do to prove he is not the Egyptian Jewish revolutionary the tribune had thought he was about to interview. The tribune lets him out to speak to the people, who only hush up when Paul addresses them in Hebrew.

Paul, in Hebrew, offers fulsome testimony to his Jewish bonafides and to his adherence to Jesus as the Jewish Messiah. At that juncture in his witness, the meaning of his words surmounts his excellent diction, the crowd “throwing off their cloaks, and tossing dust into the air,” seek to take Paul’s life. Paul has an unfortunate pattern of arousing murderous intent, and the tribune, whose patience has been tried, orders him tied up with thongs and flogged.

Paul then speaks the language of power and influence. It is not the first time he has pulled personal privilege from his bag of tricks. He is a Roman citizen by birth (an elevated status in that world, and especially uncommon among folk of Jewish descent). The tribune is impressed. The tribune had purchased his citizenship at a high price…considerably more than H-1B Visas presently sell for in the United States. The tribune was given a fright, and drew back from Paul.

Paul has used his language skills, and also the language of status and position, to announce the Gospel in Jerusalem, where he probably ought not have gone, unless Spirit-driven, which he may well have been, arriving with that large sack of money in hand for James and the Jerusalem brothers. Nevertheless, Paul is in a world of trouble, as we will further learn tomorrow.

Grace and peace,
The Reverend Canon George F. Woodward III

Por personas afligidas (For afflicted people
“O Padre de misericordia, que nos has ensñado en tu santa Palabra que no afliges ni contristas voluntariamente al género humano: Mira con piedad las aflicciones de tus siervos por quien ofreemos nuestras oraciones. Acuérdate de allos, oh Señor, en tu misericoridañ olma sus almas de paciencia; consuélales con el sentimiento de tu bondad; alza tu rostro sobre ellos y dales paz; mediante Jesuscristo nuetro Señor. Amen.” El Libro de Oración Común, pagina 722

Previous Reflections may be found on the parish website StPaulSMA.com under ‘Blogs’ here. YouTube postings are available here. Previous editions of THE EPISTLE can be found here.

St. Paul’s Anglican Church
Calzada del Cardo, 6 Centro 37700, San Miguel de Allende, Mexico
415.121.3424
www.StPaulSMA.com