Spirit to Spirit Writing Project
The word Lent comes from an old English word meaning lengthening of days. In Christianity, it refers to the time before Easter, traditionally observed through repentance and learning. It's a season to be intentional about changing and growing. Some people give up items to create space and time for new life and habits to grow. Instead of giving something up, I invite you to try to commit to answering these writing prompts each of the 40 days of Lent. The discipline it takes to set aside time each day to reflect and write about God and your relationship with spirituality is a journey that you will emerge from with a renewed spirit. Every writer has their own special voice to add to this project, whether poetry, prose, essay, thoughts, lists, or through comments, prayer, and encouragement.
How do I participate?
Each day, a writing prompt will be posted. A prompt is a question or statement that is meant to inspire your thoughts in whatever genre you feel moved to write. Post your reflections as a comment under each day's prompt (for further instructions, see 'How To Post' on the right side of the page). It is up to you if you write, read, or pray along with us each of the 40 days of Lent or just drop in from time to time when the spirit moves you to participate. Writing regularly is a discipline that many writers struggle with and this is a way to involve that discipline as a Lenten practice. Through writing and leaving encouraging words for others in this project, we become a supportive spiritual writing community
I’ve got a secret:
ReplyDeleteWhen we pray the Lord’s Prayer in church, all chiming in with one voice to pray the words that Jesus taught us to pray, instead of the first line we all know so well, I say “Our Mother”. I may not be the only one. The image that God is a dude feels patriarchal and false to me. When I re-imagine some of the Bible stories with God as a mother, they take on a new dimension. Jesus’ baptism, the creation story, talking to Moses, and what I can imagine that God was reacting during Jesus’ crucifixion. I balance James Earl Jones’ booming generic God voice with the voice of Phylicia Rashad, who played Claire Huxtable in The Cosby Show. Authoritive, loving and that look she gave Theo when he did something stupid. I did some research into what the original translation of “Our Father” was. Did the Aramaic translate into Father? Or Is that merely a reflection of a patriarchal society? Perhaps Jesus did see God as a Father, which can be a helpful metaphor, one of many. The word Abba translates in our language and culture to Father, but it seems that their Abba means much more than a gendered parent. In saying “Our Mother”, I only hope to balance out the maleness of God into a name beyond gender.
I read in “Why Words Matter: Our Father/Lord’s Prayer” by the Mass Council of Churches: https://masscouncilofchurches.files.wordpress.com/2013/10/why-words-matter-working-paper-1-4.pdf, that to translate “Father” to “Creator” doesn’t capture the meaning of the close, familiar relationship that Jesus’ prayer refers to.
Meanwhile, James F. McGrath says in his Patheos article The “Original Aramaic Lord’s Prayer” that there is no way to truly understand the Lord’s prayer unless you learn the ancient Palestinian dialect of Aramaic because the culture and nuance of the language is part of the translation. http://www.patheos.com/blogs/exploringourmatrix/2012/02/the-original-aramaic-lords-prayer-is-none-of-the-above.html
It’s possible that Jesus was using one of many metaphors that he used in illustrating the love and greatness of God. However, I can’t help but favor the old testament’s way of calling God “I AM” or LORD, which was from what I understand sort of a placeholder word because God’s name was too holy to utter. It’s also interesting to know that in the old testament, most of the Biblical characters ask God’s name and are given a name to use for their human purposes of focus and understanding. However, when Hagar, mother of Ishmael, one of Abraham’s children, encountered God, SHE named God, rather than God naming God’s self.
To be continued...
...Continued
ReplyDeleteI guess what I’m trying to piece together is how we do a great job of trying to use inclusive language in our church, as awkward as it is sometimes to sing songs like “God’s got the whole world in God’s hands” or other Bible verses that end up forcing you to say God a few too many times in an effort to avoid saying the “him” that is so deeply embedded in our language. However, as much as we try, we still say “Our Father” in the Lord’s Prayer. We also have the Apostle’s Creed, which starts, “I believe in God the Father” which we don’t change. What would we change it to that would be correct and honor the original intent? Are we forced to reflect a patriarchal culture, which Jesus had to operate within? My two girls would both like, as I do, to see themselves reflected as an image of God. They say Father and Him for God as they are surrounded with this and as they are learning from just the general culture of Christianity. I always tell them, “God is not a dude.” (I also tell them that God is beyond gender and yet encompasses all spectrum of gender, but they are 8 and 5, so I am at a loss on how to break that down further.) In the Facebook page, based from the book The Girl God, by Trista Hendren, there was a picture posted that resonated with me: it was a picture of a little girl sitting by a big sign that said, “God is not a boy’s name” Carol P. Christ says, “If we do not mean that God is male when we use masculine pronouns and imagery, then why should there be any objections to using female imagery and pronouns as well?”
I will continue my weak workaround by chiming in with a thready “Our Mother” that perhaps one or two other people will be able to hear. And I hope that those two people are my daughters.
you're not the only one...
DeleteI often say "Our Father and Mother" as I did today, but just as often it comes out as I've said it for years.
ReplyDeleteThis comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDeleteI have a problem with sin. At least, with the idea of sin as I learned it as a child, the concept of personal responsibility for all wrong-doing. The idea that we could not escape it, that it is forever the great haunting of our lives. Somewhere recently I was reminded of the great confession and its recollection of all the grievous wrongs committed, remembered and not remembered, sins of omission and sins of commission. The author thought it a bit peculiar that we would go back each year to this and again confess what had supposedly been forgiven in the absolution the previous year.
ReplyDeleteAnd it's not that I don't think we participate in sin, or commit acts of wrong-doing, or avoid doing the good we are called to do. I think what I object to is the idea that in so doing we are made unworthy. I think that is it.
I am quite taken by some of the newer scientific studies that delve into human behavior, both good and bad, our altruistic and our self-serving natures. The study that showed how those who ascend into places of power in the public sphere experience hormonal changes that make them more susceptible to wielding sexual control over those in their community. And the study that underscores our innate desires to help each other when we are in need. Is there indeed some level of truth to both our "original sin" and our "original blessing?" Perhaps.
But somehow I think the spoken doctrines in our church have all too often used this against the children of God, have put this as more important than the beauty and greatness of God, who understands and knows this about us, loves us, and continues to love the whole world.
I like the old Chinese (?) tale about good news/ bad news. I don't remember all the sequences, but it goes something like: my son broke his leg. Ah, bad! Well, no, because then he didn't have to join the army. Ah, good! Well, no, because then they took his younger brother. And so on.
I wonder if this may not be a better way to think about sin: that we can not know its true effects, but should do everything in our power to live in peace and harmony, knowing that we will do both good and bad, and knowing that grace will intervene on our behalf.
I wonder if sin is not the individual acts so much as the general posture of resisting, rejecting, or hiding from reality, the deep reality of the giftedness of it all, the deep reality of our impermanence, the deep reality of the goodness and the ever constant change and evolution of our world, the deep reality of the impact of our every action.