Commentaries: Unaccustomed Voices
GCSRW invites select authors to comment on an issue or theme that is importanat and relevant to our membership. We invite you to read these and use them as a self-guided reflection or in groups of any size.
- Benefit vs. Cost: A Call to Action
- Oprah and the Jesuits
- Does The Church Look Like God’s World Population?
- Inclusiveness is a Value
- "Inclusivity of God" From Barbara Wendland's April 2007 "Connections" (276k PDF)
- When violence against women is 'honorable,' 'religious' and 'legal
Inclusive Language:
An Opportunity for Affirmation, Healing, and Peace
by Rosetta E. Ross
Whenever I worship (at my local church and other congregations) I change words in creeds, psalters, and hymns, substituting “inclusive” terms for male references to God and humankind. When reciting the “Apostle’s Creed,” for example, I say “I believe in God the Creator of heaven and earth and in Jesus Christ God’s only son” instead of “I believe in God the Father maker of heaven and earth and in Jesus Christ his only son.” For hymns, like “He Leadeth Me,” I sing “God Leadeth Me” in the verses and refrain. I refer to Jesus using masculine pronouns “he,” “him,” “his,” but even there I sometimes substitute “Christ” or “Christ’s.” Differentiating is not difficult. It does, however, require thoughtfulness and use of the sound mind God provided. When I preach, I make similar changes. For scriptures referring to God as “Father,” I substitute “Creator,” and use “God’s” or “God,” instead of “His,” “He,” or “Him.” I use “persons,” “people,” “human beings,” etc., instead of “man” or “mankind.”
These changes express a theological and social point of view. Theologically, I believe God is greater than can be comprehended by conceptions of humanness, though I believe God is inclusive of both feminine and masculine characteristics. As a follower of Christ, I view using exclusively male language as diminishing the status of women, who, like men, the Bible teaches, are made in the image of God. Socially, the substitutions address the challenge that persistent use of male terms for God and humankind diminish women and support male privilege. Language can and does have power – power to debase or uplift, power to subordinate or equalize, power to sanction or object to abuse, power to change. In a world where women’s secondary often justifies violence, sexual abuse, employment discrimination, meanness and more, the words we speak are important.
I was introduced to inclusive language in seminary, but my awareness of women’s subordination began much earlier. As a girl, my father led our family in prayers daily. When Daddy worked swing shifts, my mother (who led prayer in Daddy’s absence) sometimes asked one of our brothers to pray. I once asked Momma why she always called on the boys (instead of the girls). My analysis was limited then; I never questioned why my father always led prayers, or why there were other exclusively “male” and “female” roles in our home. But this example makes the point. Even children can see and are influenced by patterns that privilege maleness.
Not many people notice my objection to exclusively male language when I change words during worship. My spouse (who also graduated seminary) hears and often joins me. If I share a hynmal, bulletin, or other worship document with someone, that person hears. Sometimes when reading creeds and psalters while sharing with others, my substitutions of “God” for “Him”– or other inclusive language changes – throw persons off. Because of the certainty with which I recite my substitution, they usually stop and look closely to see if they have misread the text. At other times persons familiar with inclusive language join me. That’s the most attention my changes get. Except for those who stumble for a few seconds when reading with me, there does not appear to be much notice in the pulpit or the pews. I have never been asked why I don’t refer to God using male language, nor have I ever been I challenged to use “man” or “men” as a generic noun instead of “person,” “people,” or “humankind.”
I don’t recall that my mother responded to my question about my brothers leading prayer. We never had a conversation about it. Momma did begin to ask my older sister to pray. She didn’t make a fuss about it; she just made the change. Many pastors and church leaders who attended seminary within the last 25 or so years and who are thoroughly familiar with inclusive language say people in the pews will never stand for it. But in my experience, that simply is not the case. Without a lot of fanfare, church leaders can easily shift away from language that excludes by making similar substitutions. When asked why, an opportunity arises for conversation. Certainly I have conversations with persons about inclusive language. “In the Bible, Jesus called God Father,” some people say. Or, sometimes women object by asserting, “I don’t have any problems with men or with my father.” Often in reply I note that the times and writers of the Bible were extremely male-centered, and women were considered property, not persons. In other instances, I say the subordinate status of women in religions and in society is larger than one personal experience. Though it will initially “feel” different, using inclusive language is a relatively easy way to provide affirmation and welcome, and to offer healing and peace.
This is the work of God.