We all know words are powerful—most powerful is the Word
Godself, Jesus—the Word of God incarnate.
Our words are important and so often it is the little ones
who make the biggest impact on us, and not interchangeable. I think of the two words and and or—little words,
but powerful. Imagine the words we heard
in the baptism service on Sunday, “the spirit of wisdom and understanding, the
spirit of counsel and might.” You can’t
just sub in the word or—it is not the spirit of wisdom or understand, the
spirit of counsel or might.
I was reminded of this the past few days at synod assembly
and as I had the chance to read what some people write. In one of the resolutions, and in the
document about Women and Justice, there is a reminder about the use of
inclusive language. For many of us we
don’t pay attention to this, it doesn’t affect us directly. At the assembly, we sang a song that has the
phrase “blinded by idols and lies.” The
bishop shared his offense at this language as a person who is blinded,
physically. We know the statement in the
song is not meant to be offensive, but for some it is. The same way when we use gender specific
language for God—who is beyond gender, who is just … God. I try my best when not to use the word he for
God, and it gets challenging at times.
Godself, God in God’s abundant mercy—I know a pronoun would make the
sentence flow better, but what is the appropriate pronoun for God? I struggle at times when I don’t catch the
use of gender language in our songs in worship.
Back when I was young, the word man could mean those who are gendered
male, but also inclusive of humanity.
That is not the case anymore—but many of our hymns, including those that
are more contemporary still use gender specific language.
It would appear that I am challenged by pronouns, at least I
think they are. I hear pastors say “my
congregation” or referring to committees or boards, my council. I think I used to do this, and I am guessing
I still fall into this trap. But if you
look back at what I have written, I try to say I serve with the people of
Ascension. I am but a servant, along
with the others in the congregation who strive to be faithful in our mission to
Christ and the world. The youth are not
my youth, the council is not my council, my president (you can confirm that
with Kris if you want!), my anything.
The work of the church is done by many people, differently gifted by the
one and same spirit. Some of us are
called to lead, and I will own that. But
leading does not make my ministry any more important than those who are doing
to the work—not that leading isn’t also work.
In a couple weeks, we will confirm, or maybe we should say
we will be witnesses to the affirmation of faith of seven of our young
people. Of these seven, I had the honor
of presiding at the baptism of at least one of them when under a previous
call. I have struggled, and laughed, and
sometimes cried with these young people as they began to embrace their own
faith. I pray that in my preaching and
teaching, empowered by the gifts ordained by God, they were strengthened in
their faith. But I want to be clear, I
was only a part. Thank you to the
parents, the congregation, guardian angels, grandparents, the camp staff,
friends, council, volleyball coaches, brothers, and the countless numbers of
people who share their faith with these young people.
Ok, so I went off on a tangent—I have been known to. All this to say, we are church together, no
member of the body more important than another.
Not in the congregation of Ascension, not in the synod, not even in the
ELCA. We are called, we are. We are part of the mission of Christ. And I am grateful that God has called me to
serve with the people of Ascension Lutheran Church, who daily remind me that we
can do so much more together than I could alone.
I is such a tiny little word, and it can point away from our
call to serve God together, looking out, through the eyes of Jesus Christ.
No comments:
Post a Comment