At a conference last month,
I sat in the back of a chapel with friends and colleagues as we prayed Morning
Prayer. We held our Prayer Books open to the appropriate page and spoke and
prayed out loud together at the appropriate times throughout the service.
ALL of the language for
God was masculine. Father. Lord. King. He.
To my right was my boss
who, as much as possible, substituted “God” to make God gender neutral. To my
left sat a friend who read through the service as it is written in the 1979
Book of Common Prayer.
I sat between them and
fumbled my way through the service, at times replacing words for others. Mostly
I felt stuck and awkward, my praying stilted.
After spending time
wondering what could be done, and after marching in the Women’s March,
inspiration struck.
For years, in college and
after, I was vigilant about not using gendered language for God. The result was
that, in my everyday conversations, I repeated God a lot. Eventually, it was dissatisfying and I gave it up. God began
to feel distant and impersonal. The gift of saying “Father” and “he” is that
God is close, familiar.
I have the benefit of
having grown up in a home with an attentive, present, kind, funny, loving dad.
God the Father is a comfort in part because my own father is a comfort.
And so, I fell back to
using male pronouns for God. Because it was comfortable. Because it was
familiar. Because it was easy. Because it was safe.
In our home growing up my
parents did not hesitate to affirm to my sisters and me that we were made in
God’s image and that God is not, in fact, a man. God is not an old white man
with a long beard and kind eyes.
Still.
We only ever talked about
God as male.
Until very recently I was
not fully aware of the affect that has had, of what I have been missing.
I have no problem using
male pronouns for God. It is the use of male pronouns to the exclusion of all
other pronouns that is problematic.
So, a couple weeks ago I
sat down with my Book of Common Prayer and started typing the Daily Office into
a Word document. I replaced all male imagery for God with female imagery.
Father became Mother.
Lord became Lady.
He became she.
The result is incredible.
At first, as I started
typing, I felt silly and nervous and uncertain. “Lady”, really?
Halfway through typing
Morning Prayer, though, I could not stop grinning. My heart raced as I typed
faster and faster, eager to be done and to try it.
“God
is in her holy temple; let all the earth keep silence before her.” Habakuk 2:20
“God’s
mercy is everlasting. Come, let us adore her.”
“Glory
to the Mother, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit: as it was in the
beginning is now and will be forever.”
“Glory
to God in the highest,
and peace to her people on earth.
Lady
God, heavenly Queen,
almighty God and Mother,
we
worship you, we give you thanks,
we praise you for your glory.”
On and on it goes.
After completing Morning
Prayer, Noonday Prayer, Evening Prayer, and Compline I invited my boss to meet
me in the chapel at St. Dorothy’s Rest the following Monday morning.
Together we prayed Morning
Prayer. We stumbled at times, giggled, and breathed deep. I felt my eyes grow
wide, and at times tears pricked the corner of them.
Thinking of God as Mother
and Lady these last two weeks has already changed the way I not only see God
but myself.
I am made in God’s image.
Sure.
The way all humans are.
No matter the color of our
skin. No matter the language we speak. No matter the faith we do or do not
practice.
And –
No matter the shape or
anatomy of our bodies.
Suddenly I understand
myself as made in God’s image in a new, more whole way.
I feel powerful and
empowered. God the Mother is strong. She is my protector, my crag and my
stronghold. The Lady forgives me with enduring grace.
And, just as God the
Father is a welcome and comforting image in part because of my own father, God
the Mother is informed, strengthened, and comforting because of the goodness,
wisdom, and unconditional love I have known through my own mother.
I know, even as I write this,
that I come from a place of privilege I have yet to fully unpack.
I have two remarkable
parents who help inform the image of God as parent.
I am a white,
heterosexual, cis woman in the United States. It helps female language for God
be more accessible and easier than it might otherwise.
We – certainly, I – have work
to do to continue to make God and the church a safer, more truly inclusive
space.
Today, personally, I am a
step or two closer to feeling more fully seen and welcomed.
My plan is to pray the
Daily Office with female imagery for God through Lent this year to immerse
myself in this new understanding.
If you are interested in
exploring this I am happy to send you what I have done.
“Glory to God whose power,
working in us, can do infinitely more than we can ask or imagine: Glory to her
from generation to generation in the Church, and in Christ Jesus forever and
ever. Amen.” Ephesians 3:20, 21
