Showing posts with label Turkish. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Turkish. Show all posts

Monday, November 24, 2008

Inappropriate suspician (James 1:6-9)

Hello again, fans and friends. Sorry to be away so long -- winding up course work while working full time soaked up a considerable amount of attention. Now, thank God, I "only" have a dissertation to complete -- and then, loans to pay off!

I was reading the first chapter of James (Yakub'un mektubu) this morning. Verse 6 (and a few after) especially impressed me:

Yalnız hiç kuşku duymadan, imanla istesin. Çünkü kuşku duyan kisi rüzgarın sürükleyip savurduğu deniz dalgasına benzer. Tüm yaşamında böyle deüişken, karasız olan adam Rab'den bir şey alacaüın, ummasşn.
Key words this morning -- kuşku duyan.
  • Kuşku -- suspician, doubt.
  • Kuşkusuz -- doubtlessly, beyond suspician.
  • Kuşku duymak -- to feel suspicious.
When we approach God in prayer, we must do so in faith. The natural thing, alas, is to feel suspicious of our God's motivations and reasons. After all, the serpent began undermining Eve's faith by questioning God's good intentions, and suggesting that the Almighty was stingy, withholding good things from mankind. How do we know that God has our best interests at heart, and is not just using us as pawns in some cosmic chess game?[1]

That's the adventure of faith -- coming to terms with an invisible, but very present, deity. Asking boldly, assuming, on the basis of what we know, of what has been revealed, that our requests will be heard, and answered in the best possible way.


[1] parenthentically -- this is the cosmology in F. Paul Wilson's Repairman Jack series. Take the God of the Bible out of the picture, stir in an amoral "force" (complete with, or competing with, a dark side!) and you get horror, not hope.

Monday, May 19, 2008

Kaybolan oğul benzetmesi (Lost son parable)

People consecrate scholarly careers to single works of literature. As Ray Bradbury pointed out, the classics have pores. Texture. Depth. You can revisit them time after time, and walk away with fresh insights, fresh perspectives. I'm reading The Tale of Two Cities to Beth and Laura, and noting again the masterful use of foreshadowing Dickens used to pull the story along. Some things you just don't notice the first or second time through.

How much more is this the case with the ultimate work of literature. You can read a familiar story dozens, or hundreds, of times, and still encounter surprises. Especially if you struggle through it in a new, and unfamiliar, language.

We call it "the parable of the prodigal (wasteful) son." My İncil gives it the title of today's post -- the parable of the lost son. Speaking as a first-born son, I'd suggest The parable of the spiteful big brother.

İsa addressed this parable, after all, to the Pharisees who objected to the company he kept. Yes, it tells us of the love of a Father who rejoices when lost children are found. However, it also provides keen insights into the psychology of those who object to redemption.

Today's key phrase: "Bak, bunca yıl senin için köle gibi çalıştım ... "

"Now look, how many years did I work for you like a slave ... "

Do we begin to see where an attitude adjustment is called for? How does a slave work? He focuses on his own job, does what he is told to do, and is indifferent to the big picture. Think "union mentality." Surly to bed, surly to rise. The slave wants to do as little as possible, then knock off for the day.

A son, however, is supposed to see the big picture. He is growing into partnership with a gracious Father who says, "Son, you are ever with me, and all that I have is yours." A son views the Father's realm as his own to care for, cultivate, and protect. Yes, "this is my Father's world." On the other hand, "God so loved the world ..." that He redeems us to care for it.

Well, on to today's reading. It's time to revisit one of our Lord's most enigmatic parables, the Kurnaz kâhya, the crooked manager.

Wednesday, July 11, 2007

Kendi kendine (he himself sez to himself ...)

It’s when you’re peddling uphill that you notice the flowers beside the road, and hear the birds or frogs singing. Amazing what you can see if you just slow down.

Every time you read the New Testament for the first time again, you’ll notice things that went past in a blur on prior readings. Sometimes, the effort of looking up new words and phrases in your bilingual dictionary jogs loose new connotations. Or, sometimes, seeing novel grammatical constructions several times piques your curiosity.

For example, the Turkish construction kendi kendine can be roughly translate “himself, to himself.” This occurs four times in Luke’s gospel, only once, in Matthew’s, and not at all in Mark or John.

Luka 9: 39İsa'yı evine çağırmış olan Ferisi bunu görünce kendi kendine, «Bu adam peygamber olsaydı, kendisine dokunan bu kadının kim ve ne tür bir kadın olduğunu, günahkâr biri olduğunu anlardı» dedi.

The Pharisee who’d invited Jesus into his house says to himself, “If this man (recognize the word adam?) was a prophet, he’d know what kind of woman was touching him.”

Luka 12: 17Adam kendi kendine, `Ne yapmalıyım? Ürünlerimi koyacak yerim yok' diye düşünmüş.

The parable of the rich fool. “The man himself says to himself, what shall I do? I don’t have room to store this harvest, he reflects.”

Luka 12: . 45-46Ama o köle kendi kendine, `Efendim gelmekte gecikiyor' derse ve kadın erkek diğer hizmetkârları dövmeye, yiyip içip sarhoş olmaya başlarsa, efendisi, onun beklemediği bir günde, ummadığı bir saatte gelecek, onu şiddetle cezalandıracak ve imansızlarla bir tutacaktır

Matt. 24: 48-51Ama o köle kötü olur da kendi kendine, `Efendim gecikiyor' der ve yoldaşlarını dövmeye başlarsa, sarhoşlarla birlikte yiyip içerse, efendisi, onun beklemediği bir günde, ummadığı bir saatte gelecek, onu şiddetle cezalandıracak ve ikiyüzlülerle bir tutacak. Orada ağlayış ve diş gıcırtısı olacaktır.

But the evil slave says to himself, “My master delays his coming,” and goes on to mistreat his fellow servants, and eat and drink with the partiers …

Luka 16: 3«Kâhya kendi kendine, `Ne yapacağım ben?' demiş. `Efendim kâhyalığı elimden alıyor. Toprak kazmaya gücüm yetmez, dilenmekten utanırım.

The parable of the crooked manager – one of my favorites, and most enigmatic. “The steward says to himself, ‘What shall I do? My master is taking away my stewardship. To dig I am not able, and to beg I am ashamed.”

Luka 18: 4-5«Yargıç bir süre ilgisiz kalmış. Ama sonunda kendi kendine, `Ben her ne kadar Tanrı'dan korkmaz, insana saygı duymazsam da, bu dul kadın beni rahatsız ettiği için onun hakkını alacağım. Yoksa tekrar tekrar gelip beni canımdan bezdirecek' demiş.»

The parable of the cynical judge. “At last he says to himself, ‘Even though I do not fear God or respect men, this widow will wear me out with her continuous seeking after justices.”

Luka 18: 11Ferisi ayakta dikilip kendi kendine şöyle dua etmiş: `Tanrım, diğer insanlar gibi soyguncu, hak yiyici ve zina edici olmadığım için, hatta şu vergi görevlisi gibi olmadığım için sana şükrederim.

The parable of the Pharisee and the publication. “The Pharisee stood on his feet, and spoke to himself praying thus, ‘My God, I think you that I am not as other men..’”

It’s strange, but the people who indulge in these interior monologues are the villains of our Lord’s little stories. The supercilious dinner host. The rich fool. The unfaithful overseer. The crooked manager. The cynical judge. The self-congratulating, posturing “worshipper.” So what are we to learn from this? That endless internal monologues and self-promoting soliloquies are bad for your mental and moral health?

Or maybe Luke, with a deeper awareness of Greek culture, tuned into this aspect of our Lord’s story telling?

What do you all think, folks?