Gospel of the Self: Jungian Themes in the Aramaic New Testament, Part 3

Lord's Prayer, Second Half

This week we continue our series on the Aramaic translation of early Christian texts, and how those translations parallel core aspects of Jungian thought.  Some main points so far:

•  In the early years of the Church, there was a bias toward the use of Greek to record these texts.  The original Christians, those first century Judeans, almost certainly did NOT speak Greek, they spoke Aramaic.  Aramaic is an ancient language, well suited to conveying subtlety, layers of meaning, and words meant to mean many things at the same time.  Greek – and the related languages of Europe, including English – are well suited to making narrow distinctions and describing polarities.  Therefore, translation of Aramaic into Greek resulted in a narrowing of what was meant to be broad, symbolic language.
• The word “Alaha” in Aramaic means sacred unity, oneness, the All, the ultimate power or potential, and the One with no opposite.  The Greek translations reduced it to Deos – masculine creator deity – and English translations used the word God, a word with Nordic origins, from the same root as “good.”
• The first half of the Lord’s prayer, using the traditional English KJV, reads:  “Our Father which art in heaven, Hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done in earth, as it is in heaven.”  One possible re-translation, more true to the original Aramaic, is offered by Neil Douglas-Klotz:  “O Birther!  Father-Mother of the Cosmos, focus you light within us – make it useful.  Create your reign of unity now – your one desire then acts with ours, as in all light, so in all forms.” 
•  This version shows many parallels to Jung’s concepts of the transcendent Self and the process of individuation. According to Douglas-Klotz, these three lines are about realizing that there is a pervasive unity beyond all opposites, clearing a space in consciousness for that unity to constellate, and then using that new consciousness to live a life that is both fully embodied and fully connected to archetypal energies.

Let’s move on now to the second half of the Lord’s Prayer, which in the KJV reads as follows:

9  11 Give us this day our daily bread.

 12 And forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors.

 13 And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil: For thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory, for ever. Amen.

In Aramaic, the phrase translated as “Give us this day our daily bread” is Hawvlan lachma d'sunqanan yaomana.  Here is how Douglas-Klotz translates the subtle layers of meaning in the Aramaic:

Grant what we need each day in bread and insight:

subsistence for the call of

growing life.

Give us the food we need to grow

through each new day,

through each illumination of life's needs.

Let the measure of our need be earthiness:

give all things simple, verdant,

passionate.

Produce in us, for us, the possible:

each only-human step toward home

lit up.

Help us fulfill what lies within

the circle of our lives: each day we ask

no more, no less.

Animate the earth within us: we then

feel the Wisdom underneath

supporting all.

Generate through us the bread of life:

we hold only what is asked to feed

the next mouth.

Grant what we need each day in bread and insight.

The word lachma means both bread and understanding.  It comes from a feminine root that conveys warmth, passion, vigor, possibilities, and all instruments of generative power. It is the root of the word Hochma, holy wisdom, translated as “Sophia” in the Greek.

Another Aramaic word in this line, sunqanan, does mean “needs” but it also means “circle of possession,” “nest,” “or “numinous measure.”  The word “hawvlan” does mean “give,” but also means “humanly generate,” “produce with life and soul,” “animate with fruit.”

So what does this part of the prayer mean, using more Jungian terminology?  Once you have formed relationship with the Self, and have cleared consciousness of the complexes sufficiently for it to be lived and integrated, there are many blessings that come into our lives. We can take our mind from abstractions and get those smaller insights that get us through the day-to-day challenges of life. Our bodies – our earthiness – are not evil or a hindrance to our individuation.  We individuate through and with our embodiment.  We are fed by the outer world and by the unconscious, getting the energy to live life fully, and that allows us to feed each other.  This is a marked departure from the tendency to see meaning and peace as things that can be bought or won, and then hoarded.  Instead, meaning and peace rest upon a deep underlying source and an awareness of our connection to, and dependence on, that source.

In Aramaic, the next phrase in the prayer, translated as “And forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors,” is Wahboqlan khaubayn (wakhtahayn) aykanna daph khnan shbwoqan l'khayyabayn.  Here is how Douglas-Klotz translates the subtle layers of meaning in the Aramaic:

Loose the cords of mistakes binding us,

as we release the strands we hold

of others' guilt.

Forgive our hidden past, the secret shames,

as we consistently forgive

what others hide.

Lighten our load of secret debts as

we relieve others of their

need to repay.

Erase the inner marks our failures make,

just as we scrub our hearts

of others' faults.

Absorb our frustrated hopes and dreams,

as we embrace those of others

with emptiness.

Untangle the knots within

so that we can mend our hearts'

simple ties to others.

Compost our inner, stolen fruit

as we forgive others the spoils of

their trespassing.

Loose the cords of mistakes binding us,

as we release the strands we hold

of others' guilt.

Again, what might this mean from a Jungian point of view? The theme is “forgiveness,” as in a deep letting go of whatever binds us to things that have happened in the past, and hold each other in guilt in shame.   What is that requires forgiveness?  First, it is important to realize that the word “washboqlan” may be translated as “return to its original state,” “reciprocally absorb,” “reestablish slender ties to,” and “embrace with emptiness.” This calls to mind Jung’s ideas on how the psyche is wounded and heals itself.  When we are wounded by a trauma, our original state of wholeness and clarity is lost. Something cannot be integrated – absorbed – and it cannot be brought back into relationship with ego – a reestablishment of ties.  Where was once a sort of torment and fractured thoughts, now there is a calm openness and emptiness.

In the English translations, the word khaubayn is “debts,” “sins,” or “trespasses.” But the Aramaic subtle meanings are “hidden past,” “secret debt,” “mistakes,” “failures,” “Accidental offenses,” “frustrated hopes,” or “tangled threads.” So, again echoing Jungian concepts, the idea is of something that has become frayed or in need of mending.  The fabric of the psyche has become knotted with a complex, punctured with an unhealed wound, and it will take persistent effort for the mending to take place.  And that mending will take forgiveness, both for ourselves and for all those we have projected upon or experienced projection from.

In Aramaic, the next phrase in the prayers translated as “And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil” is Wela tahlan l'nesyuna.  Ela patzan min bisha.  Here is how Douglas-Klotz translates the subtle layers of meaning in the Aramaic:

Don't let surface things delude us,

But free us from what holds us back

(from our true purpose).

Don't let us enter forgetfulness,

the temptation of false

appearances.

(To the fraud of inner vacillation--

like a flag tossed in the wind--

alert us.)

But break the hold of unripeness,

the inner stagnation that

prevents good fruit.

(From the evil of injustice--

the green fruit and the rotten--

grant us liberty.)

Deceived neither by the outer

nor the inner--free us to

walk your path with joy.

Keep us from hoarding false wealth,

and from the inner shame of

help not given in time.

Don't let surface things delude us,

But free us from what holds us back.

Commenting on this line, Douglas-Klotz remarks:  “These are probably the least understood and, because of the Greek version, the most mistranslated lines in the prayer. Wela tahlan could be translated as “don’t let us enter,” “don’t let us be seduced by the appearance of,” or “don’t let us heap up what’s false or illusory in.” 

Nesyuna does mean “temptation” but in the more Aramaic sense, which means something that leads to inner vacillation or agitation, diverting us from life’s purpose. The image associated with the Aramaic word is a flag blowing in the wind, blown here and there, like a mind tossed from one thought to another, seduced by the drama of each thought.  It’s a picture of forgetfulness, of forgetting one’s true nature, of losing oneself.

Ela patzan min bisha only very superficially translates as “deliver us from evil.” It actually refers to being loosened from, released from, something that is “unripe” and is therefore delaying or diverting us from moving forward, from individuating.  In Aramaic, the sense is that we are bound or sealed to something, carrying shame for not bearing better fruit, and we wish to be released.  In the words of Douglas-Klotz:

This line finishes the statement of the previous one: don’t let us be deluded by the surface of life, but neither let us become so inward and self-absorbed that we cannot act simply and humanly at the right time. The prayer reminds us that sometimes our ideals – including those of holiness, peace, and unity – carry us into the future or the past and make it difficult to be in the present when help is needed now.  (Prayers of the Cosmos, p. 42).

Moving now to the final line in the prayer, in Aramaic, the phrase translated as “For Thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory, for ever. Amen”  is Metol dilakhie malkutha wahayla wateshbukhta l'ahlam almin.  Ameyn.”  Douglas Klotz’s translation of the subtle layers of meaning in the Aramaic:

From you is born all ruling will,

the power and life to do, the song that beautifies all--

from age to age it renews.

To you belongs each fertile function:

ideals, energy, glorious harmony--

during every cosmic cycle.

Out of you, the queen- and kingship--

ruling principles, the "I can"

of the cosmos...

Out of you, the vital force

producing and sustaining all life,

every virtue...

Out of you, the astonishing fire,

the birthing glory, returning light and sound

to the cosmos...

Again and again, from each universal gathering--

of creatures, nations, planets, time, and space--

to the next.

Truly--power to these statements--

may they be the ground from which all

my actions grow:

Sealed in trust and faith.

Amen.

In this line, many of the Aramaic themes of the prayer are repeated.  The word “dilakhie” does not mean “possession” as the English translation implies.  It refers again to a fertile and abundant field, from which all can grow.

Malkutha, as we have discussed earlier, refers to that feeling of “I can” that permeates nature, and hayla further refers to energy that produces and sustains, not “power over,” but power that is in unison with all nature.   Taken together, these words form a fascinating parallet to the Jungian concept of synchronicity, that is, there is a great energetic pattern of meaning, both inside and all around us, and when we are cued into that pattern, miraculous events transpire with unlimited power.

The word “teshbukhta” refers to the glorious harmony, like a song, that returns divine light and sound to matter in equilibrium.  That, in the end, is the goal of individuation for each of us and for humanity overall.  Resolution of all conflict, the coming together of the world above and world below in harmony.

The Aramaic idiom “l'ahlam almin” doesn’t mean forever, it means “from age to age.”  The Aramaic idea is that the cosmos gathers and assembles, then slowly disperses again, over and over, a sort of cycle of gatherings that constitute long periods of time, like aeons.

Then there is that final word, amen.  In Aramaic, the translation is “truly,” or a sense of giving power to the words that proceed it, as in taking an oath.  It means to bring it all together, making it whole, here and now.

Taken all together, then, what might the Lord’s Prayer mean, building on the ancient Aramaic roots, translated into Jungian terms?  I propose the following, building on Douglas-Klotz’s translations, but with some Jungian vocabulary:

Oh transcendent Unity at the core of the psyche,

All-encompassing harmonizer.

May the light of consciousness shine forth,

Creating a clearing in which you may be known.

May our lives become a true enactment of the greater pattern

Our desires acting in concert with yours

As above, so below

In our lives here, pinned in time and space

May each day bring what we need to thrive and to grow

May there be a loosening of the cords that bind us

To our complexes

And may each of us, through forgiveness, loosen those cords for each other.

Don’t let us be deluded by superficial things,

But free us from what holds us back.

From you is born the great underlying pattern of meaning,

The constant miracles of synchronicity,

The incomparable song in which each of is a note,

Which renews from age to age.

Truly, may these words have power,

May they be the ground from which all my actions grow.