A ROSE BY ANY OTHER NAME . . .
The Revd Deacon Polly M. Bowen
A rose by any other name . . . I’m pretty neutral about this inclusive language business. I’ve learned to live with changes in the language. For example, the business world has all but eliminated the Company President, replacing the Boss with a “CEO.” People don’t interact any more; they opt for the impersonal non-involvement of “interfacing” (isn’t that a tailor’s term?) And those who are willing to get involved would not be caught just talking – they “dialogue,” and they do it “at this point in time,” preferably while they’re “doing lunch.” Employees aren’t employees any more. They’re “human resources”. And if they get laid off from their jobs, it isn’t really a layoff – it is a “human resources readjustment.”
Change touches all of life, and it’s hardly surprising that it shoulod reach into the language of the Church. The people who bring us various supplemental liturgies have been aware and sensitive to the feelings sometimes engendered by their work. But they are prayerful and careful, and they make no changes simply for the sake of change. God is still (usually) called Father (though we ought to realize that even this is an inadequate metaphor) but the creative, caring, nurturing facets of God are more strongly affirmed. I can live with that. Women are recognized explicitly as being numbered among the children of God. I never felt excluded, but I recognize that some people did, so I can live with that, too. The most startling change, for some, is in the use of some of the Wisdom canticles. We’ve used them for years in our weekday services, and I’m quite comfortable with them. They’re taken verbatim from scripture, and I can certainly live with that.
I don’t have any strong feelings about the use of inclusive language. I can take it or leave it. But I recognize that there are strong feelings out there, both pro and con. Some people are genuinely hurt by the masculine language we have used for centuries, and we need to be sensitive to their pain and let them know we’re trying. Some people genuinely resent any change, fearing a watering-down of the richness of our beautiful liturgy. We need to be sensitive to them, and let them know we share their love for the beauty of Anglicanism.
But we also need to be aware that change is an essential part of life. Change is necessary for growth. If there had never been any changes in Church there would be no Anglican liturgy, no Via Media, no Book of Common Prayer at all. We’d still be hearing the Mass in Latin. I suppose I could live with that, but I’m glad I don’t have to.
The really disturbing thought for me is that if nobody had ever recognized the value of change we could all be going to temple-worship, listening from the Court of the Gentiles. (Or would there be any temple-worship? Perhaps God’s people would still be slaves in
It’s something to ponder, isn’t it?
