For days, I have been looking forward to this retreat.
I attended to finicky administrative work this morning, ran a few errands, then returned home for a relaxed lunch before a 1pm start. I would be in an ordered, restful frame of mind for our time together. After we finish, I have a Tibetan language lesson lined up, and am looking forward to that, too.
At 12.15pm, I noticed a message that a friend had sent a little earlier. “Are you doing the retreat?” I replied in the affirmative, to which she responded, “We’re online now.”
What? I checked the time in the information we had been sent. It was my mistake. Yet again.
I’m not very good at details. In fact, time after time after time, I make silly mistakes like this.
Known, seen and loved
As I log on, having missed most of the introductory section, I see a slide with the words ‘Known, Seen and Loved’. This is the topic of the retreat, based on Psalm 139.
True – our Lord is omniscient. He knows that I am frequently disorganised. He sees that I am late … again. But loved? Could he love this muddle-headed mess?
Shortly after I join the group, we are sent off to meditate on the psalm. Perhaps read it slowly, the leader suggests. Write. Draw. Reflect. Journal.
My harried mind will not settle. So I decide to just copy the whole psalm in my journal in a contemplative manner and see what comes of it.
Psalm 139 – an English translation
There are 61 versions of Psalm 139 for me to choose from the Bible app on my iPad. Some emphasise the literal meaning of each word. Others aim for a free-flowing text. Some use older style English, while others use modern language.
Despite the plethora of resources in my electronic gadget, I use a printed Bible for the retreat. Paper feels more appropriate for this not-quite-as-modern-as-she-likes-to-think-woman.
I pick up a pretty gel pen and my special Nepali journal and begin to write.
Psalm 139 – a Chinese translation
There are a number of different versions of the Chinese Bible readily available. Some are quite formal and use now out-dated terminology while others use colloquial language. In the Bible app on my iPad, there are seven translations of the Chinese Bible, although six of those appear with both simplified and traditional characters, making 13 versions in total for me to choose from.
There are many dialects of Chinese, and some languages spoken in China aren’t even Chinese. Nevertheless, for a reasonably well educated Chinese speaker, the Bible is generally accessible. Again, I use a paper version – the Contemporary Chinese Version.
Writing out this psalm by hand reminds me of the practice of seminary students in a particular Chinese city in which I once lived. According to their principal (whom I heard speak in 2019, pre-pandemic, when travel to China was straightforward), the students have to write out the whole Bible by hand each year. This is a requirement for advancing to the next stage of their studies and eventually to graduation. Some sections they have to write out twice each year. The point is to help them meditate on God’s word and know it inside and out. I was then and remain now challenged by their example.
Psalm 139 – a Tibetan translation
Finally, I open my beautiful modern Tibetan printed New Testament. I hope against hope that Psalm 139 will appear amongst the ‘extras’ at the end of the book. It is, after all, an incredibly beautiful psalm.
But no, it isn’t there.
I turn to my iPad.
There is no Tibetan version of the Bible available in the Bible app I use, but I have a separate download of the New Testament in the colloquial language of people from Central Tibet. I spend too long during this retreat, however, looking for a Tibetan version of the Old Testament, or at least of the Psalms. The only one available is in a high literary form of Central Tibetan. No contemporary version exists.
‘Tibetan’ isn’t exactly a language. People from different areas speak different dialects and there are at least three reasonably distinct Tibetan languages – Central, Amdo and Kham. Regardless of how you define ‘Tibetan Bible translations’, there are precious few into any form of Tibetan.
The first Bible to have been translated into Tibetan used quite a high literary register of language that monks who came from different language backgrounds all understood … somewhat. Imagine the literary Arabic that is spoken in mosques in the Middle East but not on the street. The situation is similar. The version that I found online is a more recent work, but still uses quite high-level language full of honorific terms that are seldom used in conversations between ordinary people. It is reasonable to use such fancy language, as this way, more people from a broader range of language backgrounds can get something from the text.
These days, when with people who come from other parts of Tibet, Tibetans often speak a dialect which is quite close to the language of Central Tibet (though not as flowery). That is what I am learning.
I sometimes ask my language teacher to take passages of the contemporary Central Tibetan version of the Bible and turn them into the diaspora dialect for me to study. I plan to do the same with Psalm 139. This time, however, our starting point is even less like her everyday language than usual.
Coming alongside
As I complete the retreat, we are asked to identify one insight that we will take away from the experience. To me, the answer is obvious.
I may be disorganised and inattentive to details, but I enjoy learning. And I especially enjoy learning languages. God knew that before I was even created, and he is choosing to use this somewhat impractical language nerd for his purposes even now.
He knows. He sees. And he loves.
I hope that all the learning I have been doing over recent years has impacted others and will continue to do so. I don’t intend to become a Bible translator. That privilege belongs to local people and linguists. They have a big job with so many Tibetan languages, most with different registers (literary language full of honorific terms, rough and ready street language and everything in-between), and some forms which are hardly ever even written down.
I hope to encourage and spur on followers of Jesus who come from Tibetan backgrounds, as well as support and gently prod along-siders, like myself, who come from far away. That, I sense, is what God is asking of me.
A language lesson
The retreat ends. I video call my Tibetan language teacher. It’s time to get on with BEING the person that God knows me to be … language nut, scatter-brained, but eager to learn and reasonably relational.
My teacher answers the video call. She is out walking on her way to visit her mother. I enjoy glimpses of her life there. We chat for a while, but put the formal lesson off until a little later. She is, after all, focused on events rather than the clock.
When we do meet for class, I send her a screenshot of just the first three verses of Psalm 139 in the Tibetan version available to me … something like an English King James equivalent. The language it contains is from a different time and place, but intelligible, nonetheless.
Remember that this lady is quite unchurched. She struggles through the text, then her eyes light up. “I get it,” she says. “It’s beautiful.” She then translates it into what she calls ‘her language’. She records it too. I will listen to that recording each day for the next few weeks and pray along with the Psalmist in colloquial Tibetan – her form of colloquial Tibetan.
གཙོ་བོ་དཀོན་མཆོག་ཁྱེ་རང་གིས་ང་ལ་ཚོད་ལྟ་བྱས་བ་དང་་ཁྱེ་རང་གིས་ང་ལ་ཧ་གོ་གི་རེད།
This is my efforts at writing down my teacher’s version of Psalm 139:1-3 in ‘her language’ and an English translation. Please excuse my dreadful Tibetan ‘spelling’. If you are able to correct me, do let me know how it should be written!
Lord God, you have tested me and you know me.
ངས་གིས་ལས་ཀ་བྱས་རྒྱུ་ཚང་མ་་ཁྱེ་རང་གིས་ཧ་གོ་གི་རེད།
Everything I do, you know all about it.
་ཁྱེ་རང་ཐག་རིང་པོ་ནས་ངའི་གི་བསམ་རྒྱུ་ཚང་མ་ཧ་གོ་གི་རེད།
Even when you are far away, you know all my thoughts.
ངས་གིས་ལས་ཀ་བྱས་རྒྱུ་འདི་ནས་ངལ་གསོ་རྒྱབ་ནས་ཁྱེ་རང་གིས་མཐོང་གི་རད་ཁྱེ་རང་གིས་ཚང་མ་ཧ་གོ་གི་རད།
Whether I am working or resting, you see it all and understand it all.
Known, seen and loved
Known – seen – loved
That applies to my teacher – her people – and people like me too.
Event-focused – clock-focused – whenever and wherever, God knows, sees and loves us.
May these profound truths become accessible to my teacher and her people. May God’s nature be clearly understood, despite the many challenges they have in accessing God’s Word.
And may we live wholeheartedly, as people who, with all our idiosyncrasies and flaws, are known, seen and loved by God.