Some Thoughts on Inclusive Language and the Trinity
I know that all of you weren't at our event today on inclusive language and the Trinity. So I thought I'd post my brief paper that I presented as a panelist for continued feedback. So here it is:
Two arguments are made for not tinkering with the language of “Father, Son and Holy Spirit.” The first is that a name can not be substituted by a function (“Creator, Redeemer, Sustainer”), and a functional description of any person of the Trinity is heresy. I agree with this critique. The second is that “Father” is the name that Jesus called the first person of the Trinity and ought not to be changed out of obedience to Jesus. This second argument I have some trouble with. First, if “Father” was the name that Jesus called the first person of the Trinity, then why translate rather than transliterate it into English. We have not translated “Jesus” as “God saves.” Using the actual name that Jesus used would be either Abba or Pater. These would be appropriate transliterations rather than translations. Second, naming God as “Father” goes beyond what the text says Jesus is doing. When I call my own dad and say, “Dad, how are you doing?”, I have not used his name. His name is John. Thus, putting this restriction upon the name of God as only “Father” is more than Jesus does himself. Jesus has two names for God: abba, and pater.
My reservations with the second argument for the language of the Trinity might suggest that I am ready to throw it off quickly and get on with finding my own names. But I am not. This language, while flawed, has been the ecumenically agreed upon language for centuries and has special privilege because it comes from ecumenical councils. To throw it off would be to suggest that I have the authority to decide what is and is not appropriate God language. I am not a democratic nor a populist theologian. Over the centuries, this language has been articulated as not connotating masculinity within the Trinity. The church has the authority to create a narratable world with its own grammar and language that means what it says it means and within which it asks its members to live. Thus, “Father” within Trinitarian language does not mean “male” and ought to continue to be used within key liturgical rites such as baptism. Yet, could this be creatively stretched by using “patros and uios and agios pneuma”?
On the other hand, outside of those key liturgical rites where the Trinitarian name is the standard grammar, the names of God are flexible. We often refer to God in liturgical prayers as “Our Rock,” or “Our Creator,” or “Our…[you fill in the blank with numerous names/functions we give to God].” One name/function that is appropriate in this setting is “Our Mother.” But there is tremendous pressure not to use this name/function at all (regardless of whether the Trinitarian language is being invoked or not). This is unfortunate and is an opportunity for teaching within the local congregation.
Two arguments are made for not tinkering with the language of “Father, Son and Holy Spirit.” The first is that a name can not be substituted by a function (“Creator, Redeemer, Sustainer”), and a functional description of any person of the Trinity is heresy. I agree with this critique. The second is that “Father” is the name that Jesus called the first person of the Trinity and ought not to be changed out of obedience to Jesus. This second argument I have some trouble with. First, if “Father” was the name that Jesus called the first person of the Trinity, then why translate rather than transliterate it into English. We have not translated “Jesus” as “God saves.” Using the actual name that Jesus used would be either Abba or Pater. These would be appropriate transliterations rather than translations. Second, naming God as “Father” goes beyond what the text says Jesus is doing. When I call my own dad and say, “Dad, how are you doing?”, I have not used his name. His name is John. Thus, putting this restriction upon the name of God as only “Father” is more than Jesus does himself. Jesus has two names for God: abba, and pater.
My reservations with the second argument for the language of the Trinity might suggest that I am ready to throw it off quickly and get on with finding my own names. But I am not. This language, while flawed, has been the ecumenically agreed upon language for centuries and has special privilege because it comes from ecumenical councils. To throw it off would be to suggest that I have the authority to decide what is and is not appropriate God language. I am not a democratic nor a populist theologian. Over the centuries, this language has been articulated as not connotating masculinity within the Trinity. The church has the authority to create a narratable world with its own grammar and language that means what it says it means and within which it asks its members to live. Thus, “Father” within Trinitarian language does not mean “male” and ought to continue to be used within key liturgical rites such as baptism. Yet, could this be creatively stretched by using “patros and uios and agios pneuma”?
On the other hand, outside of those key liturgical rites where the Trinitarian name is the standard grammar, the names of God are flexible. We often refer to God in liturgical prayers as “Our Rock,” or “Our Creator,” or “Our…[you fill in the blank with numerous names/functions we give to God].” One name/function that is appropriate in this setting is “Our Mother.” But there is tremendous pressure not to use this name/function at all (regardless of whether the Trinitarian language is being invoked or not). This is unfortunate and is an opportunity for teaching within the local congregation.
posted by Tom Arthur at 4:39 PM
1 Comments:
Jason emailed this to me to post for him while Wilson gets him up and running:
1. I like what you say about Father not being the "name" of God like "John" would be. This brings up the point that Father is not really a name per se, but a title denoting God's acting as rearing us as his children. Does God sometimes act as a Mother? Sure. My question is did Jesus mean Father in the strictly male sense, or was he using it in a more gender neutral sense i.e. is there a Greek or Aramaic version of the word "parent" that he could have used instead of Pater or Abba?
2. Although I respect the reasons for using gender neutral terms whenever possible (i.e. being non-exclusive) I believe we should use the most literal translation we can. Translating is always interpreting to some extent, but I worry that if we start using pronouns or gender related words that the author didn't use, we will be in danger of changing the meaning of the text: we will be imposing a modern 21st century worldview on it. Do we really want to do this? For example, Greek culture was very misogynistic: do we want to risk covering up misogyny or face it head on? Can we warrant using gender neutral language to translate a document that was not gender neutral?
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