Grammar and Such

          When my oldest son, Greg, was in high school, he had an English teacher he was not particularly fond of.  (Oops, I just ended an sentence in a preposition).  She intimidated him with her severity.
          The first time I met her I was picking up an assignment for Greg.  I was intimidated, too, knowing she held a strong opinion that athletics were a waste of scholarly time.  Greg's absence lent credibility to her position since his hospitalization was for a concussion suffered in the previous Friday night's football game.
          She made me sit in a student's chair and wait while she attended to other things and, at first, she refused to give me the assignment saying his excuse for missing class did not fit her criteria for justifiable absence. She said he would just have to accept an incomplete on that assignment.
           Bad mother that I am, I did not plead Greg's case.  But before I left, I mentioned that it must be hard teaching with the construction noise going on at the time.  She added other woes to this acknowledgement of her hardship, and I was genuinely and increasingly sympathetic.
           Among the things she shared in the next half hour that we talked was that this would be her last year of teaching before retirement. She shared about the pain she suffered from arthritis in her hips and knees, and that she had just attended the funeral of her last living relative. I told her of the comfort I found in the word or God.  I invited her to our home Bible study and she got tears in her eyes.  She declined, but said she was touched by the offer. 
          She gave me Greg's assignment.  But I had no manipulative motives in my concern for her.  I went and bought her a Bible, a New International Version, and had her name emgraved on it's leather cover.  I gave it to her with no expectations, but a sincere hope that it would be a blessing to her.
           At the end of the year, when she was leaving her long career, I took her a retirement card, wished her well and asked if she had read any of the Bible I had given her.
          "Very little," she replied, "but I don't like it at all.  It is full of split infinitives."  I was summarily dismissed.
          I didn't point out that she was not current on changing grammar rules.  I tried to stay in touch and encourage her to read her old King James Version.  I didn't appeal to her that clarity in communication trumps grammatical precision.

And pray for us, too, that God may open a door for our message. so that we may proclaim Christ, for which I am in chains.  Pray that I may proclaim it clearly as I should."
Colossians 4:3, 4

          This prayer request of Paul's has always intrigued me.  Why would an apostle, inspired by the Holy Spirit in every word he spoke about the Lord have to appeal for clarity of communication?  I don't know.  But his request does impress me with the importance of God's message being understandable.  It makes me grateful that translators keep up with our current vernacular as they update versions of the Bible for us.