In my four years as a faithful attendee of Otterbein Christian Fellowship (OCF), I've learned a lot. I've learned that God loves me. I've learned that Christians shouldn't isolate themselves in their own little bubble. I've learned that there's a pretty sexy book of the Bible (Song of Songs...plus, I already knew from my own studying that Ezekiel 23 is quite naughty). All good things.
I've also learned that women can refer to themselves as men. And they're not even transgendered.
There's a worship song by Delirious called "Majesty," and part of the lyrics are "knowing I'm a sinful man..." I've watched as all the attendees of OCF have lifted their voices in unison to this song. OCF (like the rest of Otterbein) is probably 70 percent female. Thus, I've watched as my female comrades have sung "knowing I'm a sinful man."
I can't speak for all women, but last time I looked down in the shower, I didn't see a penis. Maybe I should look harder next time?
I can't sing "knowing I'm a sinful man" if I'm not a man. Why should we be expected to? It would be just as crazy to sing "knowing I'm a sinful redhead," or "knowing I'm a sinful Filipino," or "knowing I'm a sinful basketball player." It excludes so many people. Not everyone's a redhead. Not everyone's Filipino. Not everyone plays basketball. And not everyone has a penis.
Dr. Glenna Jackson, a superb professor in our religion department, tackles the problem of exclusive language on the syllabus in every class she teaches. She devotes an entire page to "The Use of Inclusive Language" and reprints this quotation from Thomas Groome: "The historical evidence is that gender exclusive language originated and was intended to maintain the connection that men are superior to women and are the natural norms of humanity."
For a few quarters, I helped develop the weekly slide show for OCF's song lyrics. So, I changed the slide reading "knowing I'm a sinful man" to "knowing I'm a sinful (wo)man." It didn't even mess up the rhyme.
But I can't be around to change every sexist lyric on every slide at every OCF meeting. Who will carry the torch after me? Will any of my sisters stand up? Or will they get annoyed with me for kicking up such a fuss? Often we are our own worst enemy.
My dad, an ordained pastor for over 20 years, has tried to reassure me on the issue of exclusive language in the church. He has witnessed inclusive language in his congregations; it is possible that the status quo will change. But in his words; "Change, however, always seems to come either too quickly or too slowly."
What a brilliant man. (And I can refer to him as a brilliant man because he does indeed have a...actually, I don't want to think about that.) My dad's point is that my little lyric-changing may plant the seed of change, but that seed may take a long time to grow. How discouraging...or eventually encouraging?
Dr. Suzanne Ashworth, a professor in our English department, offered me this advice to keep up the fight: "The alternative-stasis or apathy-is more uncomfortable for me than whatever frustrations attach to that effort."
She's right. I definitely don't like the alternative to "kicking up a fuss."
I ask you fellow Otters to please watch your language. Unless you can relate to my dad, who claims, "I once knew a Filipino redhead who played basketball. No matter what was said, it applied to him. Or her." t&c;
SARAH MARTINDELL IS A SENIOR ENGLISH MAJOR AND COLUMNIST FOR THE t&c.;
