Vowels Or Vehicles?

Today's student guest post is by Tyler Horton.  He is in the first year of the MA (NT Studies) program.  Tyler lives in rural New Brunswick, just outside of Fredericton, where he has been an Assistant Pastor for 10 years.

I knew these moments were coming, I just didn’t expect one in my first week.

At two years old, Samuel is my youngest child and at this stage he is playing exclusively with cars.  The repeating stages of playing with Sam are:

1. Sam gives me a vehicle of some kind
2. Sam watches me ‘drive’ this vehicle and make fantastic and realistic sound effects
3. Sam’s eyes widen as he sees the potential that he has somehow tragically overlooked in this toy
4. Sam requests that I return the vehicle to his possession

As a dad I love this because the small amount of energy it takes me to perpetuate this cycle brings my son great joy.  So when Sam asked for me to stop trying to learn the difference between a vocal and a silent ‘shewa’ and come play, he wasn’t asking for all that much.  There was a small hand patting my leg, bright eyes meeting mine, one hand pointing to the rug and another hand opening and closing in the universal sign of “c’mon” (which I think he pronounces with a perfect vocal shewa, by the way). 

The internal crisis was not powerful but it was entirely upon me.  Am I doing the right thing?  Can I actually justify robbing my two year old son of playtime to learn Hebrew?  Is this truly the best use of my allotted energy and attention? My answer came in the remembrance of a pudgy medieval monk.

One of reasons I have desired and worked toward starting this Masters degree is a lesson from the life of Martin Luther.  His awakening to the gospel was a major catalyst in the Reformation.  His entrance into freedom, which contributed to the Gospel breaking through again in Europe, came through the study of the Greek New Testament.  The truth had been encrusted under poor translation and made inaccessible.  If Luther had not opened the New Testament in its original language he would have remained in darkness.

The lesson I take from this is twofold.  First, reading the Bible accurately is a matter of (eternal) life and death.  Second, a crucial part of ensuring an accurate reading of the Bible is to learn to study it in its original languages.  One of my main goals in beginning studies this Fall is be able to do this.  Of course it is not the only important thing, but if the Bible is what it says it is I must do everything in my power to read it as best as I can.

Sam left the table disappointed.  Being two, he did not sulk for long as the next thing to cross his path engrossed his attention completely.  But still, he left without me coming along because I chose Hebrew vowels over a toddler’s vehicles.  I don’t say no to playtime every time, but in embarking here at Acadia I am choosing to send him away with unfulfilled expectations more often.  This is a cost I am willing to pay because I aim to be part of building a church that reads the Bible well; that is, a church where he can grow up and hear the truth clearly and accurately.  My prayer is that the many sacrifices I will make will prevent me from sacrificing the truth that Samuel most needs to hear.  So for now, he will have to hear some “hhhhh” (with the all the phlegm that implies) when he is used to hearing “vvrrrooooom”.