We have been studying the “Our Father,” known in Syriac by the words Our Lord would have used: Aboun d.baš.ma.yo. We now come to the final part of this series.
We have seen that the prayer begins with God himself, not only as the Creator revealed in the Old Testament, but as the Father revealed in the Gospels, who shares his very being with his children.
The prayer then climbs down the ladder from God to the earth, passing through heaven, his name (or manifestation), his kingdom (the universe as a whole), his will being done here on earth, and then to us and our supernatural food (the Eucharist). And now, we come to the next rung of the ladder: ourselves when we sin.
The Syriac makes an important contribution here. It reads: waš.buq lan Haw.bayn waH.tō.Hayn ay.ka.nō dōff H.nan šba.qan l.Ha.yō.bayn; “And forgive us our debts and our trespasses, as we have forgiven our debtors.”
The Syriac has two words, for debts and for trespasses, whereas the Greek text of St Matthew has only one, opheilēmata, which primarily means “debt” but can also include “sins,” as something for which we must make ourselves right with God.
St Luke’s Gospel (11:4) uses amartias, sins. Syriac uses two words to ensure that both concepts are prominent: sin and debt. In this context, a debt is a wrong that is not necessarily a sin.
In the Maronite Divine Liturgy we often pray for the forgiveness of all our sins, whether intentional or not. People often ask how one can sin without intention? It is a fair question. As we now see, the concept of “sin” in the Syriac tradition is wider than the purely legal definition.
The point is that the concern of the Syriac tradition is not only with intentional actions and omissions which offend God, but with our actual state of being.
A person who is becoming more spiritual, more oriented to God, will be concerned for those things which they have neglected, those situations where, by a lack of thought or feeling, unfortunate things occur that would not have, had we been vigilant.
This is another aspect of the contemplative virtue of “watchfulness.” In Syriac, this is za.hee.rō beK, “watchful over thyself.” An angel or ma.la.Kō was also known in Syriac as an 3ee.rō, a “watchful one.”
We could say that a contemplative person should be even more practically vigilant and aware in the world precisely because he is a contemplative. We should not be sleepy with dreams of heaven. That would be weakness. We are called to fulfil our obligations to God, humanity and ourselves with joy, fidelity, and charity.
This, I suggest, is part of the deeper meaning of the final lines of the Aboun d.baš.ma.yo: “For the Kingdom, the Power, and the Glory are yours, to the age (world) of ages (worlds), Amen.” These words were added to the liturgy as early as the first century. They are not mere filler. They are, rather, the consummation of the prayer: they take us back to the opening lines, and tell us that despite all appearances, the words of the Aboun d.baš.ma.yo will be fulfilled, in the “world of worlds.”
We all have an idea of what the Kingdom, the Power, and the Glory of God may be; but the world of worlds? The key to this is that the Syriac word 3olam means something like “a dimension” whether of time or space. This is why it means both the age of ages and the world of worlds. It is infinite extension in any given direction, whether or duration or of space.
We do the words a great disservice when we simply translate them as “forever.” That makes us think of the arrow of time hurtling forward, but it does not take us out of this world. The Syriac, however, does. It points us to the unimaginable nature and majesty of God, how his power and glory will fill all, for He shall be all in all (1 Corinthians 15:28).
Then, finally, the word “Amen.” It is tragic that modern translations, even the most literal of them, the ESV, offer “Truly” for this word. There are many words in Hebrew, Aramaic, and Syriac for “truly,” and this is not one of them.
The basic meaning of the root a-m-n is to be firm, established. It means “may (this prayer) come to be established (realised).” It was a unique saying in the speech of Our Lord. He alone is known to have used it to affirm what He was saying, whereas, of course, anyone could say “truly.” Because this usage was exceptional, Jesus was actually known as “the Amen” (Revelation 3:14).
And so we close the Aboun d.baš.ma.yo with “Amen,” a memorial of the mystery and uniqueness of the Lord.
