Religious Scholar

I attended a fascinating Work in Progress program of the Princeton Research Forum last week. Member Ron Hyman led us through a study of five translations of Psalm 15. It was amazing how different the translations were, and to what degree they varied from or conformed to the original text. I came away from the presentation reflecting on the motivations of translators.

Rarely are these motivations transparent and free of the complexity of intention. To translate is to have power over communication. To translate scripture is to have power over the deepest moral and spiritual understanding of people and institutions.

A number of subtexts underlie the translation of religious literature.

If the translation is by a political or religiously motivated organization, the motive may be "how can we best transmit what we want people to believe and do in this translation."

If it's a single scholar, he or she may want to present a text that is unflinchingly true to the original.

Or a literary individual may want to emphasize the poetic qualities of the text, the spirit of the text rather than the literal details.

A person or organization with a social agenda may want to undo some of the perceived harm that religions have done by seeming to endorse, say, slavery, prejudice against homosexuality, or sexism. This would drive their translation.

There are also heritage reasons for preferring a certain translation. I associate the incomparable cadences of the King James Version with my own childhood and earliest feelings of spirituality. While the text can be misleading and is sometimes incorrect, nothing touches my heart like this translation of the Christian Bible.

I think there is room for all these approaches, as long as we clearly know which is which. Together, in amalgam, they provide a context for reading and thinking about scriptures. But certainly, we must be aware of and know the factual, literal basis of works so variously translated.  Otherwise, we wind up like the apocryphal country preacher who lamented all the new translations of the Bible appearing on the market by crying, “Why can’t they just leave it in the King James English the way Jesus talked it!”

Winter

When Winter comes, nests appear in trees,

Old elms bare their arms like young girls in spring,

Fresh rivers flow through forests filled with melting snow,

Blue herons, feathers tucked, take wing.

We shiver, never more alive;

Warmth is a distant dream

While icicles burst on snow-piled eaves,

And small fish hush beneath a frosty stream.

                                                                --Linda Brown Holt

Measurable material reality and non-quantifiable spirituality interpenetrate for the believer.

One of the many commonalities among the world's major religions is an emphasis on “right speech.” This is variously defined as not taking the Deity's name in vain, speaking in a true, honest, and loving manner, avoiding vulgarity and hurtful language. While the roots of right speech may lie in secular society, where it fosters civility and harmony among people, there are also religious traditions supporting the notion that speech is sacred, and all spiritual consciousness can be traced back to an original Word, Logos, Amen, Om. In yoga, it is one of the key ethical principles of holistic practice, studied before postures, breathing exercises, and meditation.

If only this consciousness would trickle down into daily life! I was sitting in Panera today about to dig into a handsome salad when a 30-something couple sat down beside me. I didn't have to look up to sense a whirlwind of rage, as though the Tasmanian Devil of cartoon fame had just spun into the seat.

This guy had, as my New Age friends would say, a really bad aura. He had barely landed when he launched into a loud tirade against his HR department's training program with a passion usually reserved for issues like gay marriage or the President's health care plan. It didn't sound like a serious problem to me, but when I looked up, I could see the veins standing out on his forehead and arms, and he was so tense he seemed to be levitating above the chair.

His hapless colleague, who appeared to be pregnant, nodded silently as Tasman (as we'll call him) continued to spew invective and grab the sides of the table as though about to throttle the HR director. Of course, every other word was an impolite synonym for excrement, though he did lower his voice slightly on repeated uses of the F word.  (When did s—t become a synonym for stuff, or things? Why can't we say, “I'm not gonna take this stuff any more!” or “That's nonsense!”)

After a couple of minutes I could feel my stomach tightening into a knot, so I grabbed my piece of baguette and slipped away unobtrusively. Was it the offensive language or the anger that drove me away and doomed Tasman's co-worker to silence?

I thought about cultures where the breaking of bread is bless'd, where one says a prayer before eating, and of religions where eating or not eating is part of spiritual practice, as in the Lord's Supper, Passover, Ramadan. I thought of peace-loving secular humanists and atheists as well who dine with respect for food, each other, and the power of language.

Food transforms us, words and relationships transform us. They are intertwined.  Right speech isn't a coercive “Thou shalt not.” It is an opportunity to be our best and give our best to others. Such a simple spiritual and civil practice that all can safely follow. For like sticks and stones, words can truly hurt us.

Excellent op-ed by Arsalan Iftikhar, whose commentaries appear on CNN:

http://www.cnn.com/2009/OPINION/11/09/iftikhar.fort.hood/index.html