Indiana Jones, Aristotle and Matthew the Apostle walk into a bar…

Growing up I was a huge Indiana Jones fan. I have literally lost count of the number of times I’ve watched Raiders of the Lost Ark. I built Lego replicas of the Hovitos temple that ‘Indy’ tackles in the opening sequence. For a time I even considered archaeology as a career - until I found out that my adventurous day dreams of actually getting to run through the Amazonian rainforest being chased by savages blowing poison darts at me was somewhat removed from what the actual day to day requirements of the real job would be (I know, talk about false advertising). Putting aside my detailed critiques of the ensuing movies one scene from the third instalment (you know the one with Sean Connery) has stuck with me greatly as I have aged. And it’s a scene that was not pivotal, nor a crucial moment in plot development. A young Indiana runs in excitedly to his father’s study, breathless, heart pounding, Cross of Coronado in his hand - only to be stopped and told to calmly count to ten before his father will listen. He starts counting but is halted again by a raised finger and the further direction, “In Greek”.

So whilst my romantic notions of an adventurous career in archaeology had gone the way of the City of Tannis (one for the Raiders fans) my love of the power of knowledge through language, especially languages outside of our everyday lives and modern history, remained with me. Growing up through high school in Melbourne, Australia, the likelihood of needing to be fluent in Latin, able to decipher Sanskrit or be handy with a smattering of Egyptian was understandably, fairly low. I did suffer through four years of French and whilst at the time I was certain it would represent the greatest waste of my self-proclaimed academic prowess, it did come in handy almost two decades later when I did make it to France and could get from A to B and not starve. Of greater irony is the fact that I went on to have a career where having a good handle on Latin was handy (pharmacy) and I’ve spent time travelling in Egypt, Jordan and Israel.

What I love in respect to the modern age is how an understanding of language, especially in a historical context, can unlock deeper meaning, or evening a completely different meaning of common statements that people have come to hang their ideological hats on. My case in point is this exact blog, it started out as one thing and through research has turned into something completely different.

My original thought and tag line for this piece was based on the very well known line from Matthew 5:5. Irrespective of which version of the Bible you prefer the generally accepted copy is thus:

“…Blessed are the meek:

For they shall inherit the earth…”

Matthew 5:5 , King James Bible

And my original title was - “The meek shall inherit the Earth - No, they damn well won’t.” And from that an extension into the need to be your own hero, to hustle, to fight, or as William Henry put it, to do what it takes to be ‘The Captain of my Soul”. But in researching I discovered that maybe, that line doesn’t actually mean what I (and many) think it does. And that might have some fairly epic implications.

The modern colloquial understanding of this verse is seen as a call to be meek and mild, respectful, gentle of spirit. Contextually, subservient to a higher power and dutifully awaiting to be rewarded - with a Kingdom, be it Earth or Heaven, no less. My frustration with this is that it gave a hall-pass to anyone wanting to avoid taking responsibility for the captaining of their own soul - a task that from time to time requires you to take the helm and let loose the dogs of war. Even if it is against nothing more than your own weakness, fear, doubt or insecurities. Sometimes it might be external and you need to step up and fight for yours or advocate, vigorously, for those that cannot advocate for themselves. Bottomline, sometimes - in the absence of action - the only thing the meek will inherit, is what’s left.

Now this is where the language comes into play - in broad terms that verse is the English translation of an earlier Latin translation, of the earlier Greek translation which itself was translated from the original Biblical Hebrew, with some old-fashioned Aramaic thrown in for good measure. Talk about Chinese whispers. What really turned my thought patterns was the Greek version and the alternate interpretation of the Greek work ‘praus’ (πραε??) used for ‘meek’. It can be seen, as many do, as meaning to be gentle or soft - but - it was also used in the terminology of training horses for battle. A wild horse was considered to be ‘meeked’ once it had become completely loyal and obedient to its master but, most crucially, still retained fierce spirit, courage and power. They were not frightened in battle, nor would they hesitate to do whatever was necessary, even to their own destruction. They were powerful yet disciplined, capable of war yet restrained at the slightest word or nudge. They were disciplined despite their capabilities. Aristotle described the ‘praus man’ as one capable of anger but in the right time, right place and right manner. He was said to be the midpoint between the extremes of recklessness and cowardice. Capable of doing whatever was necessary but only in a time and manner that was wise and appropriate. It was about having strength as well as the restraint to know when to use it and when not. Being ‘meek’ was not about being subservient, or soft, or weak or indifferent.

“Blessed are the meek'‘ - now this had an entirely different meaning for me. This was not a call for subservience but a battle cry for the development of discipline, make preparations for all that may come before you. Historically this interpretation sits far better as well - why, in a time when stoicism and hardness of character was being lauded, would there be a call for subservience and perceived weakness. No - blessed are the trained, the prepared, the disciplined. Possessed of power, fierce spirit and an iron will, but measured with reason, patience and strength of character. They are masters of themselves.

“For they shall inherit the Earth” - Karl Marx said “The price of freedom is eternal vigilance”. The modern day hustle equivalent of ‘you can have anything you want, you just have to be prepared to give up everything to get it’. Truth is, you will inherit only what you have created, earned and built with your own blood, sweat and tears. So put in the work. The real, honest, raw, unseen work. Take the hard road and craft that discipline of character, develop the strength to know when to show restraint and when to go on the offence - and be a master at both.

Or don’t.

And inherit whatever is left.