I'm not the best one to be commenting on gaining proficiency with languages. My native language is, of course, English. I had two years of Spanish language instruction in high school that has, amazingly, stuck to some degree. The classes took the immersion approach, from day one, and I think that has a lot to do with it. But I certainly wouldn't call myself “proficient”.
In my senior year of college I took a year of Classical Greek. My professor, Dr. Charles Hill (currently at RTS in Orlando), was an excellent teacher and the class was well worth the work it required. I foolishly audited the class the first semester as it was an elective and I didn't want it to affect my grade point adversely — but I got an 'A' that semester, so the joke was on me. I took it for credit the second semester.
Anyway, this post was supposed to be about language proficiency, not my academic history. I am horrible with the mechanics of language, English included. My knowledge of English grammar and syntax is fairly limited. I tend to simply throw caution to the wind and go with what sounds good to me. As a somewhat voracious reader of non-fiction (can one really be “somewhat” voracious?) I'm served well by this method. I have a decent base to draw from when I actually do write things, be they blog posts, email, essays or other items.
And that's my point as regards gaining proficiency with language. But first, an aside. This is relevant to the topic, really. Trust me.
I was at my neighbor's house for dinner last night. My neighbor George has built this massive structure that produces some of the best-tasting slow-cooked meat I've ever had in my life. George and his family lived in Argentina for years, and became aquainted with the Argentinian custom of the Asado. This is where someone invites a number of friends over, puts all sorts of meats on the grill (mmmmmmm ... chorípan!) and folks just hang out, talk about whatever, and simply enjoy the time with one another. You eat an appetizer (chorípan, which is pieces of sausage (chorízo) served on bread (pan)), drink some red wine, and have a meal. Then talk some more and have some more wine. Then dessert. This is a wonderful thing — incredibly similar to the South African practice of the braai. I'll save writing about my love of the braai for a later post, though. This one is about language. Remember?
So, I was at my neighbor's house on Saturday night for an asado. George & Randi put out an excellent spread, as usual. It was a good evening. One of the other people there was a fifth-year senior at the local university (Western Washington University) who is on the cusp of completing her studies. Her major is German. Of course, this became a subject of conversation. When asked about future plans, she admitted that she really didn't know what she would do next. She mentioned pursuing professional translation as an option. But as she did, she also noted that she would have to choose a particular type of translation to pursue, as the vocabularies for different areas (think literature, or business, or politics, or scientific/technical) are rather specialized. She noted that she would have to build vocabularies in these areas, and that the only way to do that was to read. Often. Purposefully. And after one gains some facility in the area of specialty, then practicing translation (both ways — German -> English, and English -> German) is how real skill is built. Her admission was a bit shocking, at least to me. I figured if she had studied German to the point at which a well-respected university would confer a degree upon her in that subject area, then she must know the language fairly well. And I'm sure that she does know the language fairly well. But after years of focused study, she would need to work even more to develop the necessary vocabulary and translation skill to be truly marketable. She surely has the foundation to do this, but her admission that she'd need to focus on a particular area in order to provide meaningful (and marketable) translation skill was enlightening.
Overall, that part of the conversation was the most interesting to me, especially since I've cultivated my own love of language over the past six years or so. In my job, I work with language. Daily. I typically work with NT Greek, and with lexicons, dictionaries and commentaries — not to mention various different morphological analyses of the Greek New Testament. My paltry one year of instruction has developed into a rather extensive familiarity with the Greek language and especially with the primary texts and tools used by folks who utilize knowledge of Greek in their Biblical study. This knowledge has come about simply by exposure to the material; much the same as my implicit knowledge of English grammar and syntax is enhanced through consistent reading of non-fiction in the areas that interest me.
The method for becoming more proficient with koine Greek is, not surprisingly, exactly the same method as that described by my fellow-asado-moocher last night. The difference with New Testament Greek is that the tough decisions have already been made for us. No area of speciality need be selected; NT Greek of the first century AD is already a very specific (and well documented) subject area. We don't need to worry about collecting literature to study, that has been done for us. Greek New Testaments are easy to come by. The English translations of this corpus are myriad, so checking one's translation against a number of other translational approaches is easy. (Hint: Bible software makes this sort of translation-checking task rather simple). If one is truly interested, other texts are available as well: Apostolic Fathers, Works of Josephus, Works of Philo; to name a few. The truly ambitious can hit the LXX for older Greek in a similar area of specialty, but the NT is enough for most of us and it is the most logical place to start.
That leaves us at the most important place: the start.
To be worthwhile, learning must be active and purposeful. As much as we would all like it to be true, learning by osmosis is not an option. We (I include myself here) can't get proficient in NT Greek if we don't ever attempt to read NT Greek. Take at least 10 minutes every morning or evening and work through a verse or two.
Sure, it's tough to page back and forth in the lexicons looking up definitions. (Hint: Bible software makes this easier!). It's tough to remember the role that different parts of speech play in the sentence at hand. Pronouns are particularly strange in NT Greek, at least to me. But consistent attempted reading is the only way to go about getting better. And vocabulary is tough to build. Paradigm charts are almost impossibly tough to remember.
But the strangest thing happens when you begin to regularly read the text. Not the first day, or the second, or even in the first few weeks. But over time, amazingly, you start to get it. Where you couldn't be bothered with the importance of conjunctions before, you now look for them in what you read because you know they play an important role. Where you couldn't remember if it was a “prepositional” or a “participial” phrase because you always get those long p-words mixed up, you now know they're prepositional phrases, and you can even pick them out because you're more familiar with prepositions. Your vocabulary gets better. You begin to say, “hey, I remember that word from [passage]” and then go back to look and compare.
There is no silver bullet to gaining proficiency with language, it takes disciplined effort. The only way to build up real proficiency is to saddle up and dig in. But, as with any worthwhile pursuit, the work is rewarded. This is particularly true if the language being pursued is Greek or Hebrew (or Aramaic), as these are the primary languages of the primary texts of the Bible.
So there you have it. If you've had some formal Greek instruction but never really quite crossed the line from knowing a few things about the language to actually using the primary texts (i.e., Greek New Testament) in your studies, you now know the secret. Unfortunately, the secret is pretty obvious, and implementing it isn't easy.
Carve some time out of your day and exercise your Greek muscle. That's the only way it'll get stronger.