A searchable, downloadable PDF of the original article appears below. Ian McPhee is on the staff of Peace River Bible Institute, Sexsmith, AB, and serves on the Issues Committee of the Renewal Fellowship.

The writer of Hebrews concludes his discussion in the twelfth chapter by appealing to his readers to “worship God acceptably with reverence and awe, for our God is a consuming fire” (Heb. 12:28b,29). The obligation to right worship is urgent because of the holy character of the God with whom we have to do, and we are reminded in the context of this passage that he is a speaking God:

See to it that you do not refuse him who speaks. If they did not escape when they refused him who warned them on earth, how much less will we, if we turn away from him who warns us from heaven?

This biblical concept of a God who speaks in revelation and has placed before us self-consciously a meaningful disclosure of his character and will has historically undergirded a Reformed approach to the Holy Scriptures. The immediate inspiration of Holy Scripture enables us to worship God “in an acceptable manner” (Westminster Confession [W.C.F.] 1.8). The record in Genesis indicates that human language functioned from the beginning of the creation of Adam and Eve as an adequate vehicle for communication, not only between the first human pair, but also between Adam and Eve, and God himself (Genesis 1:28, 2:16, 3:9ff). In recent years this understanding has been challenged from many points of  view, and to a greater or lesser degree the idea of God speaking in human language, of meaningful truth about God being objectively conveyed through human words, has been discounted. In addition, recent discussion has raised questions about the suitability of the sociological structures which inform much of the language used in Holy Scripture. Secular feminism has called for a restructuring of modern society which abandons all vestiges of patriarchalism and male domination. The form in which this has spilled over into the question of how the church is to worship God, has become known as the “inclusive language” debate.

Language of God

A fundamental conviction informing the movement away from “traditional” (male dominated) worship language concerns the nature of biblical references to God. Such terms as “Our Father” in the prayer Jesus taught his disciples are said to be “metaphorical.” We are encouraged to interpret Jesus’ teaching about the fatherhood of God (“say, Our Father”) to be a mere projection of a human relationship which offers only a limited description of how we may experience God’s care for us. The term “Father” is to be understood as a metaphor, a symbol which labels our sociologically- conditioned interpretation of our experience, not any essential or objective reality in God himself. What Jesus is doing in Matthew 6 is not, in this view, revealing the covenant Name by which believers are to approach God through the Spirit of Christ (cf. Romans 8:15,16). He is simply offering a particular example of how God may be experienced (as in “think of God as an ideal parent”). But Jesus uses a definite name and clearly relates himself to God as the pre-existent eternal Son (John 17:1-5). God’s fatherhood and Christ’s divine Sonship have been recognized as immanent relationships within the complex dynamic unity of the Godhead (W.C.F. II.3). It is no doubt true that the divine fatherhood does not begin to exhaust the richness of God’s relationship to us. But is there not something more substantial in the language of his Fatherhood than a mere reflection on how we can experience some aspects of his care for us as Christians? Are we indeed to strip away all aspects of scriptural language about God as Father, and Christ as Son, which point to objective relationships with God? Could Jesus, wrestling with the cup in Gethsemane, have just as legitimately cried out to heaven, “My Mother …” (Matthew 26:42)? The Father of God is not an exhaustive summary of his nature, but does it not point to what is true in God? To put it another way, could God have legitimately said at Jesus’ baptism: “This is my daughter in whom I am well pleased?” The “metaphors” point in both directions to a divine reality of Fatherhood and Sonship. The appeal for “inclusive language” in worship argues that scriptural language has been so corrupted by a patriarchal worldview and hierarchical sociology that it cannot describe ultimately reality in God. The World Council of Churches adopted a working paper in 1975 entitled “The Community of Women and Men in the Church,” which argues:

The language of a community mirrors the experience of its life together. The conventional use of male and female language about God and the Church stands in the way of a Christian community in which all can participate fully.

It needs to be clarified that what we are being asked to do is not only abandon “conventional use of language” for God, but on the basis of skepticism towards biblical language in general, move away from the teaching of Scripture and replace it with a new set of terms drawn from a feminist sociology, rather than the record of prophets, apostles, and our Lord Jesus himself. Inclusive language in effect calls for the rewriting of the Bible. But Reformed theology has always consciously stood under the unique authority of Holy Scripture. Jesus said, “The words that I speak to you, they are spirit, and they are life” (John 6:63).

What is Inclusive Language?

The focus of the inclusive language debate relates to addressing God in worship, whether in prayers, hymns, or readings from the Bible. Efforts to apply these concerns to hymnody have resulted in such changes as the following: “Lead on, O King Eternal” and “Praise My Soul, the King of Heaven” have been changed to read “Lead on, O Cloud of Yahweh,” and “Praise My Soul, the Queen of Heaven.” In 1983 the National Council of Churches in the United States published the Inclusive Language Lectionary in which references to God as “Father” have been replaced by “Father and Mother,” as in the reading of Matthew 11:27: “All things have been committed to me by my Father and Mother.” References to Christ as the “Son” of God are changed to read “Child,” as in the rendering of John 1:14: “The only Child of the Father and Mother.” Similarly, references in the Gospels to Jesus as “Lord” are replaced with the term “Sovereign One,” and “Son of Man” becomes “the Human One.” The Inclusive Language Lectionary clearly shows that what is being called for goes far beyond simply drawing out implied references to women in generic terms for “man” in hymns or prayers. If the issue was simply a matter of changing hymns such as “Rise up, O Men of God” to read something like “Rise up, O Saints of God,” or some similar attempt to avoid an appearance of exclusive male reference at the human level only, there could be little objection. But clearly there is much more at stake. In an article entitled “Sexist Language: A View From a Distance” (Worship, January 1979), the late Church of England hymnodist Eric Routley stated on this subject that language can be changed in hymns where the reference is simply to humans. But he argued forcefully that language about God cannot be changed without severing ties to Christian tradition.

Union Theological Seminary Professor Elizabeth Achtemeier, herself a proponent of new roles for women in the church, has described the Inclusive Language Lectionary as an attempt to turn the canon of the Christian faith into a “propaganda document for a special interest group.” She states this represents an invasion of feminism into the church which aims in some instances at least in replacing the God of Christian faith with “a god or goddess of the feminists’ making.” The effect aimed at by proponents of inclusive language is a “resymbolization” of faith, based on two fundamental convictions: the language of the Bible gives not more than a culturally conditioned symbolic awareness of God, not univocal knowledge of God as he truly is, within himself and in relation to his creation; and secondly, the patriarchal perspective of the authors of the Bible reflected in their language for God renders him either objectionable or unknowable, or both, to modern worshippers.

Inclusive Language and Reformed Theology

Donald Bloesch criticized traditional theology for being slow to recognize the feminine imagery for God which is in fact found in the Bible:

In our fear of pantheism and deism, we must not opt for a crude anthropomorphism … in which God is reduced to the superlative of human qualities. (In, Is the Bible Sexist?, as are the two Achtemeier quotes above.)

And it is true that on rare occasions the Bible presents a description of God with female characteristics. One passage referred to in this regard is Isaiah 49:15: “Can a mother forget the baby at her breast and have no compassion on the child she has born? Though she may forget, I will not forget you!” Another is Matthew 23:37, where Jesus laments over the unbelief of Jerusalem; “,.. how often have I longed to gather your children together, as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings . . .” Is it true that Reformed theology (among others) has been slow to recognize the impact of these passages for a “feminine principle” in God? Perhaps, or could it be that enthusiasm to discover such a feminine principle may equally be exaggerating the impact of these and other isolated references to God which suggest feminine actions? They describe actions in God’s relation to his people, but stop far short of making direct statements about God’s constitution or personal character.

The Matthew reference above describes the extent of Christ’s compassion for Jerusalem, but offers no basis for asserting a feminine personality or principle in Jesus. Similarily, in the Isaiah 49 reference, inclusive language advocates suggest that here God is depicted as a nursing mother who faithfully supplies the needs of her children. But the common element in the verse is not primarily two nursing mothers, but the elements of forgetfulness on the part of a nursing mother, and faithfulness (no forgetting) on God’s part. The dynamic in the verse is not a comparison, but a contrast. The contrast establishes distances, not likeness, between human mothers and God, and should not be read as though it said: “Like as a mother remembers the baby at her breast, so will I remember you.” The highest example of self-sacrificial human care (a nursing mother) is set over against the ever-faithful care of God. There is no exegetical basis here for making assertions about the person of God’s essential character or identity. The care of God which is revealed here is not a description of God’s self-awareness or personal identity by which we may address him. It is a description of the strength of God’s care which is designed to prevent us from reducing God’s Fatherhood to a narrow caricature of maleness. His Lordship and Fatherhood involve a range of gracious actions which quickly exhaust mere human categories. Second Corinthians 1:3,4 extols the richness and breadth of God’s comfort for the church (“who comforts us in all our troubles”) but identifies this divine comforter as “the Father of compassion” (v.3). Moses said in his protest to God in Numbers 11:12:

Did I conceive all these people? Did I give them birth? Why do you tell me to carry them in my arms, as a nurse carries an infant… ?

Such a description of his actions on behalf of Israel does not suggest Moses’ conduct was out of character for him as a man. Feminine imagery can be used to imply the breadth and depth of concern and commitment, without contradicting specific personal identity. The few references to feminine actions in God imply the richness of his care, but should not be made the basis of a rewriting of biblical terms for God. The vast majority of references to God in the Bible describe him as Lord (or Father or husband), and never as bride. Wisdom is personified as feminine in Proverbs, but the impact of this literary device has to be evaluated against the plain statement concerning Christ in 1 Corinthians 1:30: “he is made unto us wisdom from God …” Feminist theology also points to the fact that the word “spirit” in the Old Testament (ruach) is feminine in gender, but they neglect to mention it is always either neuter or masculine in meaning as used in the text, and that the adjective “Holy” is masculine.

Conclusion

Reformed theology has recognized the incomprehensibility of God, and a defense of the correspondence between the language of Scripture and reality in God as eternally “Father, Son, and Holy Spirit” is not a crude anthropomorphism. The revelation of Holy Scripture does not imply a breaking down of the distinction between God and ourselves as his creatures, but within that revelation of the God who dwells in the thick darkness (Exodus 20:21) we are told that he always remains the essentially unseeable, hidden God (1 Timothy 6:16). The proposal to resymbolize our worship language for God threatens the very opportunity we have to come by faith in Christ to know and speak to God. The words of Holy Scripture are not to be rewritten because of a feminist or any other ideology. They are the light shining in a dark place, to which we are to pay attention, knowing their origin is not the will of men, but that “men spoke from God as they were carried along by the Holy Spirit” (2 Peter 1:20,21). Bloesch states the case well when he observes concerning the Names by which God has revealed himself to us in Scripture:

In the Bible the name of God represents the very reality and being of God. It is in his Name that he reveals himself and saves us (Ps. 124:8; Ps. 90:10; Matt. 1:21; Acts 4:12)… The symbols of faith that compose the biblical witness have been elected by God as means of revelation and salvation … we should interpret cultural life and experience in the light of the revelatory symbols of faith, and not vice versa.

Bloesch suggests that the theology informing inclusive language is closer to Gnostic mysticism than Christianity, and for some such as Mary Daly, feminist theology has led to neopaganism and goddess worship.

The authors of the report prepared for the Church of Scotland entitled “Say, Our Father” conclude on this subject:

We can, if we choose, decide to reject the authority of the Bible (and call God Mother as well as Father). But are we aware of what we have done? At a decisive point we have rejected the authority of the Bible and the authority of Jesus. What grounds do we then have for accepting other things the Bible says – which Jesus says? Logically we have none. We have overthrown the Bible’s authority and Jesus’ authority.

The theology behind inclusive language is a mysticism linked in some cases with goddess religions and far removed from the biblical revelation. Reformed worship should reflect that dependence on Holy Scripture which values obedience above cultic ritual (1 Samuel 15:22) and the modern innovation equivalents of “strange fire” (Numbers 3:4). The attraction of goddess spirituality is not new. It was well known to Israel through the asherah of the Canaanites (Exodus 34:18), and through Egyptian and Eastern goddess cults in the New Testament era. But the Gospel taught the Ephesians to abandon the temple of Diana and give all praise to “the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ” (Eph. 1:3). If in our worship we are concerned with how we respond to God, and not simply how attractive our language is to elements in our churches, then there will be no question of adopting the directives of inclusive language.