I just came from my Greek class where I had an outburst of
showing myself, and lets just say, a moment of letting it all hang out. It’s
all because of this dang Greek language and verb endings. I’m dangling over a
cliff, and I’m hanging on by a pair of dangling participles. I’ve tied a knot and
hanging on to a verb ending.
Today, in my exasperation, I brought God into my fits and
starts. “Why doesn’t God just say what he means?” My friend said, “He does.”
We’ve all come from different religious camps. We made a pact we would hang in
there and remain friends no matter what. It’s a good thing we are committed to
our friendship, because this Greek language could cause us all to jump over the
cliff.
In early spring my two friends and myself decided to join
this Greek class. We each had our reason for doing this hair brain idea. The
reason for doing something like this has to be stronger than it hurts.
Otherwise no one would still be in the class and sweating bullets over one more
lesson. All the others who started the class with us have gone by the wayside.
My reason for learning Greek is cut and dry. I want to know
what the Bible says it says from the original language. If I’m going to teach
it, then I need to know what it really says.
Two months into the class, I learned just enough to be
dangerous. In my high mindedness, I made the declaration that no one should
stand in the pulpit and preach from the Bible unless they know Greek and
understand exactly what the Bible says. After these dangling participles and all
of this exasperation, I told my friend, “I take it all back, I don’t know if
anyone can learn Greek and the pulpits would be preacher-less if a preacher had
to learn Greek.”
It’s a funny sight to behold. We have a male teacher, who is
very patient and tolerant with his three women students. He didn’t know what he
was getting into. We’ve cried, had
outbursts and declared we were quitting. He’s remained calm.
This language we are learning is a dead language. That means
it isn’t spoken today. I guess it’s a good thing it isn’t spoken, because I
don’t think anyone can speak it.
My one friend is determined to learn and has run ahead of
the other two. She has made 3X5 cards, now graduated to even bigger cards. She’s
driving her husband up the wall with her determination. She takes them in her
purse and pulls them out every chance she gets. She studies all the time. She
said she couldn’t understand the ending to one of her words. She was beside
herself. She called everyone to find an answer.
In class a few weeks ago, she went into a confused state of
mind and said, “I don’t get it. I can’t understand. This wall is going up and
I’m totally confused.”
The other friend said, “I pray before I start doing my
homework.”
With tears in her eyes, she said, “I prayed over my
prepositions, I’m not a heathen child.” She put on her dark glasses and the
tears rolled down her cheeks. She sat quietly the rest of the class.
I was sitting there with the teacher watching these two
ladies have a melt down. I kept my mouth shut for a change. They both
apologized and all was well. But, it makes one wonder why we put ourselves out
there and are determined to learn this colloquial language.
Al and I were invited to dinner to one of our friend’s
house. The hostess said, “No talking Greek tonight or giving Bible studies.” I
shut down. I didn’t have anything to say. The wind had been taken out of my
sails. I had taken my bag with my Greek study book, my Greek Bible and all my
discoveries on three scriptures, which I had translated and was dying to share.
Al said, “Leave that bag in the car.”
I said to my Sweet Al, “If anyone wants to know this
wonderful truth I’ve discovered and ask me to share, I’ll run out to the car
and get it.”
He said, “Just leave your Greek book in the car.”
I couldn’t let it go. I told everyone I had uncovered some
exciting news as I was studying my Greek and I had my books in the car. No one
jumped on it and encouraged me to tell them. They didn’t say a word. I said it
again. No takers.
On the way home, I said to Al, “Nobody wanted to hear what I
learned in Greek. I offered several times. I am offended.”
Al said, “No one cares what you know in Greek.”
“Why not? It’s important to me.”
We finished the six-month course, now we know just enough to
know we don’t know anything. We want to take the class over. We’ve convinced
the teacher we need another class. I know he’s probably wondering why he would once
again put himself into this place with three emotionally charged women who cry
and have outbursts over Greek.
The teacher said, “If I teach it again, then each one of you
must bring one new person. You have to help teach the class.”
We didn’t know if we could do that. My friend said she
didn’t have any friends who wanted to take Greek. Her friends thought she was
crazy for taking it in the first place. She was told she was hanging around the
wrong people.
I racked my brain thinking who I knew, and who would put
themselves under such a commitment to do all the homework and to learn this
language. I’m putting it out there. If anyone is interested, e-mail me. I’m
desperate to find someone who is willing to learn Greek so I can continue. I’ve
just begun and I’m more determined than ever to nail this language.
Final Brushstroke! Why do we do what we do? I’ve almost lost
my religion, two friends and a teacher over this Greek language. I can’t
promise a class without an outburst. Let me know if learning Greek is something
you’ve got to do. I’d like to share the pain.
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