1989, our younger readers might be interested to know, is more
than just the name of an album by Taylor Swift, currently at number
3 in the charts. It was the year in which the General Synod debated
the Liturgical Commission's report Making Women Visible,
which proposed making the language of liturgy more inclusive. The
excitement generated this week by a small group that has been
discussing the still largely male language used in church plunges
us back through time to the year when Ms Swift was born. It was an
era when the Archdeacon of York, George Austin, could talk of "deep
feelings and deep hurts" on both sides of the issue, and the
liturgist and future Bishop of Gloucester, Michael Perham, could
remark on the peculiarity of making his "maiden" speech.
However deep the feelings, the debate was infused with common
sense. The report itself had drawn the line at changing text that
was "too familiar for any alteration to sound well", and
acknowledged the silliness of changing popular hymns; but it noted
a growing discomfort with the use of "man" as a generic term for
humanity. Speaking in the debate, Jean Mayland commented: "Quite
frankly, whatever we do as a Synod this morning, we cannot stop the
worldwide movement of change in liturgical language in this
way."
And so it has proved. The Synod took note of the report, the
House of Bishops discussed it further, and the views expressed fed
into the next generation of liturgy, Common Worship. This
used inclusive language for texts referring to people, and
attempted a "more pictorial and evocative" language in general,
holding together the traditional and contemporary - what it
referred to quaintly in 2000 as "the so-called 'post-modern'
approach". The process of framing liturgy is a tricky one, in that
it freezes in time a process that continues to evolve. As the
Common Worship notes state: "Gradual change in worship is
not unnatural but natural." The authorisation of a variety of
liturgical texts is an acknowledgement that different parishes
evolve at different speeds.
And yet the task of teaching the Church about the unknowable
nature of God must go on, and liturgy is, in the main, the way the
Church does this. Tinkering with personal pronouns still has the
capacity to frighten the odd horse, even though this, too, feels
like a decades-old debate. The passage of time means that it is
possible to talk of God as mother without the self-consciousness
that plagued earlier attempts; and there is a better understanding
of why many people, men as well as women, find the association of
God with fathers problematic. The difficulty that the English
language poses, however, has not gone away. God can perhaps be
better known through attributes: creator, redeemer, etc. But no
alternative can be found to gendered pronouns without neutering
God. As Taylor Swift sings on her album: "Now we've got problems,
And I don't think we can solve 'em." But, thanks to so-called
post-modernism, churchpeople are no longer hostile to different
solutions for different occasions.