Watch your language: why we should mind our hes and shes....

... in scripture

Father Roland E. Murphy, O. Carm.

In view of all the serious problems that confront Roman Catholic women, the use of inclusive language in Bible translation is hardly a priority. The rights of women in the church are an issue far more extensive and serious than that of language. But it must also be irritating for women to be bombarded with he and him in the Bible--at least the younger generation of women finds it that way.

I am frequently asked about inclusive language in biblical translations, and in the recent past I spent two years in committee work revising the psalms in the New American Bible. Father Joseph Jensen, O.S.B., executive secretary of the Catholic Biblical Association of America, issued a statement concerning this translation in the Catholic Biblical Quarterly.

His remarks place the problem of biblical translation in the broader context of rhythm and length of line as well as inclusive language. All these concerns deserve attention, but in this essay I wish to concentrate solely on the issue of inclusive language. The principles and questions that need to be discussed when this issue arises are:

1) The prime consideration is that God is beyond gender; divinity is neither male nor female. That sounds like a harmless principle about which all might agree, but principle and reality do not always coincide. In fact, many people have an image of a male God.

This image is due especially to the way in which God has been communicated to them. If both picture and word are dominated by a masculine figure, it is easy to nourish this image. We are told that God is mystery, beyond our imagination and definition. But no matter, God is regularly referred to as he or his. Indeed, no little shock is registered if the divinity is referred to as she or her. The fact is that neither reference is adequate; both are wide of the mark. The shock occasioned by the use of a female pronoun is not warranted; it is due to the snare of traditional language, if not to a faulty theology.

2) How, then, is the male dominance in referring to God to be explained? By the patriarchalism that characterized the culture of the People of God and is reflected in their language and literature (the Bible).

Patriarchalism, or male dominance, was characteristic of the culture of the ancient Semitic world out of which the Bible was born. With Saint Chrysostom, we might say that this limitation is part of the "divine condescension" that marks the revelation of God to humans. It is a limitation, and perhaps an inevitable one, in view of the historical character of the Judeo-Christian revelation. It is the same type of limitation one finds in the socalled "scandal of particularity" that marks Christianity: that God should be born in the Mediterranean world, a Palestinian Jew, at a particular point in time. The correction of patriarchalism (or slavery or other features of ancient culture) was allowed to work itself out over time, and the time for women has been painfully slow.

3) Akin to patriarchalism is the constraint that the English language has exerted on biblical translation. In the case of phraseology that is not gender specific (i.e., referring to both sexes), why should one use an equivalent that is specific? Thus, the obvious example of Psalm 1:

Blessed is the man

who walks not in the counsel of the wicked...

This psalm is not intended to be gender specific, as though its words referred only to males; by its very nature, the blessing is inclusive of females. How is it to be translated in a satisfactory way?

The New Revised Standard Version (NRSV, 1989) changes to the plural:

Happy are those

who do not follow the advice of the wicked...

Similarly the revision of the New American Bible psalter (NAB, 1991):

Happy are those

who do not follow the counsel of the wicked...

A footnote to "those" is added, which explains that literally the Hebrew text uses "the man." But the note goes on, "that word is used here and in many of the psalms as typical, and therefore it is translated 'they.'"

This move from singular to plural for the sake of inclusive language is legitimate; here human beings are meant, regardless of gender. However, in the overall analysis of the Hebrew text of Psalm 1, there is a contrast (even if not all-important) that is lost between a singular individual in verses 1 to 3 and the plural in verses 4 to 6. Would it have been better to read "Blessed the one who..." or "Blessed the person who ..."? This might be suitable for the first line, but verses 2 and 3 would call for a gender-specific singular pronoun, he or she, and the problem returns.

Although historically these constraints have been formed by a patriarchal culture, the fact remains that neologisms such as he/she or him/her will not succeed from a linguistic point of view.

English speakers are caught in the web of acceptable and unacceptable English expression. Sometimes a construction in a passive voice can be achieved that does not distort the sense of the Hebrew original, but this will not always succeed.

In referring to God, the sacred name [gamma]hwh is translated as Lord. When one reads the Bible in English (the Jerusalem Bible is an unhappy exception), the reverence for the sacred name is indicated by this traditional designation (Greek, Kyrios; Latin, Dominus).

But as a given text progresses, the pronouns he, him, his will normally appear. Sometimes they can be eliminated by using the word God. But if this is done too often, a monotonous text that merely advertises the problem of inclusive language is the result.

One source of help is to use the definite article, the, and one can think of many suitable instances. There is no reason always to refer to God's people or God's Temple. The deictic force of the definite article suffices. There is only one Temple in the Bible: the Temple; there is only one People of God: the people.

But sooner or later the translator runs out of subterfuges to avoid exclusive language. The distinction has been made between horizontal and vertical usage. The treatment of Psalm 1 above is an example of horizontal usage: write so that it does not appear as if men are the only members of the human race. Vertical language (or God language) is more difficult to remedy, since the common mentality is to speak of God as masculine.

We have suggested that God should replace he, him. But in the course of a given psalm or pericope, it may be practically impossible to come up with a substitute. For example, Psalm 78 in the revised NAB psalter has he several times. One can substitute God for the pronoun only a certain number of times or a monotonous repetition will result. Thus, he has been used.

One might object and say that a splendid opportunity was lost here. The pronoun she (referring to God) could have been used throughout or even alternatively. This would underscore the claim that God is beyond gender and that all this gender language is analogical. Or would it merely be shocking to an in-between generation that has not made peace with the feminist movement and fails to understand the issues behind and beyond inclusive language?

4) A distinction should be made between a biblical text that is used in the liturgy and one that is intended to be a literal translation of the Bible. In 1990 a joint committee of the National Council of Catholic Bishops issued the document "Criteria for the Evaluation of Inclusive Language Translations of Scriptural Texts Prepared for Liturgical Use." The implication is that one can distinguish between the Bible as an object of academic study and as an object of liturgical proclamation. The document urges an inclusive translation since the Word of God is addressed to all in the liturgical assembly. It is such authorization that spurred the revision of the psalms that now appears in the New American Bible.

When the New Testament of the NAB was completely revised and made public in 1987, it also attempted to address itself to the issue of inclusive language. In the preface, the translators noted the text is aimed at inclusivity "insofar as this is possible in normal English usage, without resort to inelegant circumlocutions or neologisms that would offend against the dignity of the language."

For example, "although the generic sense of man is traditional in English, many today reject it; its use has therefore generally been avoided, though it is retained in cases where no fully satisfactory equivalent could be found."

It is my impression that this revision of the New Testament cannot match the inclusive character of the revised psalms of the NAB. But no translation will resolve all the problems of inclusivity. Probably several revisions lie ahead of us before any satisfactory results are attained.

5) Can one seriously object that the elimination of exclusive language is in itself false to what the Bible says? Haven't we seen that the basic reason for the exclusive language is the patriarchal culture in which the Bible was written? In reply to these questions, I would argue that this feature belongs to the time-conditioned quality of the Bible and is therefore reformable. The patriarchalism remains evident in the biblical description of events and persons. (How often are women mentioned?) These cannot be changed since the Bible narrates them, but the language in which they are expressed need not be always exclusive.

6) Is there an analogy between this problem and hostile references to the Jews in the New Testament? I don't think so. The hostility is not time conditioned (as patriarchalism is); it is a historical fact and should not be glossed over. The growing hostility between church and synagogue is reflected at many points, and it cannot be swept under the table.

It is not a cultural factor; it marks the beginning of a sad history between the two groups of the People of God. It would be an anachronism to label this anti-Semitism, a later phenomenon that stained the history of the Christian Church. One cannot deny that the relationship between Christianity and Judaism has been marked by hostility from the very beginning. That fact must be faced, explained, and even expiated.

The power of culture and language to form us, and not merely to inform us, is never more vividly illustrated than by this issue of exclusivity in religious language. We have been captives of an English language that for too long has spoken only of man, mankind, and men to designate the human race. Little or no visibility was accorded to the other gender.

This myopic vision also characterized our language about God, whose person we have shaped within a masculine frame of reference. It will take some time for us to break out of these constraints, and only God knows what the future holds.

It may be said that what has been written here is merely middle of the road. Why not "just do it" if God is without gender and males are not the only people on earth? A correct theoretical answer to such a problem may not be the practical and strategic path to follow. This is not cowardly or craven. It is a question of losing a few battles and in the hope of winning the war.

It should be remembered that the NAB 1991 psalm revision was requested for lectionary use, that it had to eventually obtain episcopal approval, and the count is still out on how much community approval it will receive. In recent times the church has become more and more sensitive to reception by the faithful: reception of an encyclical or of any hierarchical pronouncement. This also is a factor in biblical translation. We may have to bow to certain cultural limitations even though we admit that God is not a he.

...in liturgy

Sister Kathleen Hughes, R.S.C.J.

Seismic shifts are occurring in women's self-understanding that affect our sense of worth, relational world, visibility, expectations of acceptance and inclusion as equals, partners, colleagues, and friends. Such shifts in self-understanding have unavoidable consequences for patterns of communication. Language, as a cultural product, adapts itself to capture changing perceptions and attitudes, even changing systems of belief.

The seismic shifts, however, are in mid-course. The feminist movement has not taken hold everywhere nor are its consequences for language uniformly agreed upon--thus arises the inevitable tension that a dynamic movement involves, a tension that leaves us, at this moment, betwixt and between as a community of faith and prayer.

Perhaps nowhere is this tension more apparent than in discussions about liturgical language. Liturgical language includes all of the words of our prayers and the prayers the priest proclaims in our name when we assemble for Eucharist or any of the other sacraments. When Christians gather for worship, we enter into a pattern of prayer developed over nearly 2,000 years. The language we use in communicating with God, in remembering the mighty acts of God in Jesus, in naming one another as we stand before the throne of grace, is tenaciously conservative. We stand with the generations before us; we employ words and phrases treasured by previous ages. In fact, the very nature of ritual implies repetitive activity, not novelty, not surprises, not the whim of the moment, but inherited structures and recognized patterns.

Why, then, would anyone want to revise the language of prayer? What theological justification might be offered? Surely, revision of our prayer can only be justified if the language we have inherited is no longer the most effective medium of communication with the Divine and if it has become a positive obstacle to participation.

Participation is the key. Active participation was a central liturgical concern--in fact the driving force--of the liturgical movement in this century. The "Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy," the liturgical Magna Carta of Vatican II, adopted this expression first used by Pope Pius X at the turn of the century. In fact, it named active participation in the liturgy as a fundamental demand of one's baptismal commitment:

"The Church earnestly desires that all the faithful be led to that full, conscious, and active participation in liturgical celebrations called for by the very nature of the liturgy. Such participation by the Christian people as 'a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God's own people' is their right and duty by reason of their Baptism."

Active participation--our right and our duty in virtue of our Baptism--is an elusive reality. We may look around us at Mass and witness warm greetings of peace; we may hear hearty singing and feel the power of a large congregation thundering "And also with you." Yet these are simply external indicators of an internal disposition--and it is the internal disposition that is the very heart of participation.

Active participation means meaning it when we say "Amen." Active participation demands that we enter into the mystery of Jesus' death and rising and accept that we have been baptized into this mystery and will live out its implications--laying down our lives, living no longer for ourselves, joining our offerings to Christ's perfect offering to the one he called Abba.

Active participation of the internal variety happens when the liturgy addresses us, makes a claim on us, elicits that act of faith and obedience that our "Amen" seals. An instruction from Rome in 1969 underscored the importance of language in making such a claim on our hearts:

"The prayer of the Church is always the prayer of some actual community, assembled here and now. It is not sufficient that a formula handed down from some other time or region be translated verbatim, even if accurately, for liturgical use. The formula translated must become the genuine prayer of the congregation and in it each of its members should be able to find and express himself or herself."

Each of us should feel included, should hear ourselves named, should discover that we are part of this one great act of praise, should find in the language of the rite our expression of praise and thanks.

From this perspective, inclusive language has profound theological import. Striving for a language that includes everyone in the community--all races, genders, and abilities--is neither a silly whim of feminists nor an incidental and fairly peripheral issue of low priority in liturgical celebration. Use of inclusive language assures that we will hear ourselves addressed in the language of our prayer; inclusive language creates the conditions for the possibility of faith-filled response.

Concretely, what does all this mean for liturgy? Efforts are being made by the International Commission on English in the Liturgy (ICEL) with regard to the language of prayers. Nearly 20 years ago, ICEL adopted a resolution to eliminate discriminatory language in all future translations and revisions of the liturgical books and to avoid words that ignore the place of women in the Christian community or relegate women to a secondary role. Subsequently, every translation has been examined for the elimination of language that discriminated on the grounds that it was racist (for example, black or darkness as malevolent), sexist (all use of gender-specific language, such as brothers when both men and women are meant), anti-Semitic (language of prayers, such as the Good Friday prayers that appear to discriminate against or condemn the Jews), or prejudicial to the disabled (reference to a disability, such as deafness, as if it defines the whole person).

Of these many modes of discrimination, the most pervasive problem in the first generation of English liturgical books has been gender-exclusive language: man, men, brothers, brethren, sons of God, mankind--these words are everywhere in the texts of our prayers. From the perspective of the history of language, of course, such words once served as generic references to humankind; in our day these same words are understood as gender specific and are no longer adequate to name or to address the whole community.

As second-generation liturgical books appear, a gender-balanced language has been substituted. Either we speak of brothers and sisters or shift to plural expressions such as friends. Even the words of the institution narrative at the heart of the eucharistic prayer have been changed: "shed for you and for all men so that sins may be forgiven" is now rendered "shed for you and for all, so that sins may be forgiven."

Only the pope is able to authorize a change in the form or central words of a sacrament; John Paul II approved this change in the eucharistic prayer more than ten years ago.

Other liturgical texts are slowly catching up. The revised Sacramentary, the book with all the presider's prayers, which is now circulating among the bishops for discussion and vote prior to adoption, has eliminated all gender-exclusive language (men, brothers, and so on) in the texts of the prayers.

In making the changes, ICEL committees have been very careful not to draw attention to any change, aware of a basic ritual law articulated well by anthropologist Margaret Mead: when we are engaged in ritual, we should be conscious of what we are doing, but not too conscious.

Choosing appropriate language for God is a far more difficult issue to resolve. Just as there is a preponderance of masculine language and imagery for God in scripture, so, too, is the language of our prayer heavily weighted today with masculine imagery.

Curiously, this is a problem of recent origin. Over the centuries, the traditional address of God in Latin has been simply Deus or Domine Deus or Omnipotens sempiterne Deus,--"God," "Lord God," "Almighty eternal God"--not Pater, "Father." Nearly all of the ancient liturgical prayers addressed the first person of the Trinity simply as God, and only in the balance of the prayer--particularly the conclusion--was the full Christian theology of prayer revealed. We pray to God, the first person of the Trinity, through Christ and in the power of the Spirit.

The same is true today. The Latin text for translation into the vernacular retains Deus as the most frequent address of God. However, in the late '60s and early '70s when a first generation of vernacular translations was being prepared and when we had not yet had a feminist awakening of consciousness, a decision was made to address a number of prayers to God under the title Father to personalize the more impersonal Deus--and, thus, make more explicit to whom the prayer is addressed. So Father became a ubiquitous title for God in the English-language liturgical books even though it is used very sparingly in the Latin ones.

The texts are also filled with other masculine references to God, as well as exclusive use of masculine pronouns--he, him, his--to refer to the Divine. If one had access only to the language of our prayer, one would form the distinct impression that we worship a male God, not a God of Mystery, not a God beyond gender and our human capacity to name or to know completely.

ICEL's solution to the preponderance of male imagery is to employ a much broader range of metaphors for God in the new texts of our liturgy, expand our imaginations, and acknowledge by so doing that no title is adequate to address our God and that many titles may give some glimmer of the mystery beyond our imaginings. Here is a sampling of new titles: God; Eternal Beauty; Wisdom everlasting; God of the nations; God of mystery; God of our salvation; God of the covenant; O God, most high and most near; Steadfast and generous God; God of compassion and hope.

Revising the language we use to refer to one another in the human community and the language with which we address God demands careful attention and even vigilance. Liturgical prayer is public proclamation: rhythm and cadence are important; imagery and poetic expression are essential; and musicality is an issue for texts that are sung. But above all, liturgical prayer is a highly condensed expression of the community's beliefs.

"First theology" is what the ancients called it. Changes cannot be made frivolously or thoughtlessly in language lest we overlook the theological nuance of a word or phrase and unwittingly change the community's beliefs.

An interesting case in point is Eucharistic Prayer IV. A portion of that text is as follows:

You formed man in your own likeness and

set him over the whole world to serve you,

his creator, and to rule over all creatures.

Even when he disobeyed you and lost

your friendship, you did not abandon him

to the power of death, but helped all men

to seek and find you. Again and again you

offered a covenant to man and through the

prophets taught him to hope for salvation.

In this in-between time, some presiders have decided not to use this text because of its genderspecific language. Others continue to proclaim this eucharistic prayer but in the process to amend the text by using the plural--an apparently happy solution. Thus:

You formed us in your own likeness and

set us over the whole world ...

But the choice of adopting the plural while providing gender balance collapses the history of salvation into our time. It does not quite capture the subtlety of the original text, which narrates the span of salvation in terms of the Creation, the Fall, covenant, prophecy, and finally--and in the fullness of time--redemption for us. These themes ICEL has preserved in its proposed revision, together with a more sensitive expression of the relationship between humankind and creation:

You formed man and woman in your own

likeness and entrusted the whole world to

their care, so that in serving you alone,

their Creator, they might be stewards of all

creation.

Even when they disobeyed you and lost

your friendship, you did not abandon them

to the power of death, but extended your

hand in mercy, that all who search for you

might find you. Again and again you of-

fered humankind a covenant and through

the prophets nurtured the hope of salva-

tion.

Translations are time conditioned and reformable. Even as our first generation of liturgical books was being prepared, a revision of all the liturgical books was anticipated. First, however, the community needed sufficient experience of English-language liturgical prayer. Now the revisions process is in full swing, and a new Sacramentary will appear in the next few years.

The revisions are being prepared with great care by the ICEL, which is profoundly aware of the linguistic and theological issues entailed in providing language for the community's encounter with the Divine. The revision of the liturgical books is an important step in the continuing reform of the liturgy. Its aim, to paraphrase Eucharistic Prayer III, is the active participation of all people, "gathered from age to age, so that from the rising of the sun to its setting a pure offering may be made to the glory of God's name."

Compare the following examples of psalms from the unrevised and revised versions of the New American Bible. The revised version attempts to avoid gender-specific language.

PSALM 47: 2-5

Unrevised New American Bible:

All you peoples, clap your hands, shout to God with cries of gladness,

For the Lord, the Most High, the awesome, is the great king over all the earth.

He brings peoples under us; nations under our feet.

He chooses for us our inheritance, the glory of Jacob, whom he loves.

Revised New American Bible:

All you peoples, clap your hands, shout to God with joyful cries.

For the Lord, the Most High, inspires awe, the great king over all the earth,

Who made people subject to us, brought nations under our feet,

Who chose a land for our heritage the glory of Jacob, the beloved.

PSALM 93:1

Unrevised New American Bible:

The Lord is king, in splendor robed; robed is the Lord and girt about with strength.

And he has made the world firm, not to be moved.

Revised New American Bible:

The Lord is king, robed with majesty; the Lord is robed, girded with might.

The world will surely stand in place, never to be moved.

PSALM 103: 1-5

Unrevised New American Bible:

Bless the Lord, O my soul; and all my being, bless his holy name.

Bless the Lord, O my soul, and forget not all his benefits;

He pardons all your iniquities, he heals all your ills.

He redeems your life from destruction, he crowns you with kindness and compassion.

He fills your lifetime with good; your youth is renewed like the eagle's.

Revised New American Bible:

Bless the Lord, my soul; all my being, bless his holy name!

Bless the Lord, my soul; do not forget all the gifts of God,

Who pardons all your sins, heals all your ills,

Delivers your life from the pit, surrounds you with love and compassion,

Fills your days with good things; your youth is renewed like the eagle's.