And it happened, after the first post! I delayed for a month and a half trying to find the time and the energy to write another entry. Oh well, at least I'm doing it now.
I've been pressured to write about gendered language--something that has always been a "battle" of mine. Changing how we think about language and the defaults that we create is an act that I see as being essential. What I find difficult about writing this post is that there are so many different directions that this post could take. Thus, I begin with a warning: this post could be read as scratching the surface of my thoughts, but it is in no way complete. More than likely, I will have much, much more to write on this topic. That being said, comments (especially constructive ones) are always encouraged. There ends my warning.
My battle for inclusive language began where many begin: God's gender and using gendered-language and metaphors for God. Mary Daly wrote/said, "When God becomes male, the male becomes God" (sorry, I don't have the citation for this). "He/his/him" and "father" are probably the most common Christian references for God--in common discussion, liturgy, and translation of the Bible. However, most Christians will say they believe that God is beyond gender or is genderless. Clearly this belief does not manifest itself in the practice. For many, this is fine: we know God is not actually a man, so it is okay to refer to God solely male imagery. It's more comfortable; it's what we've always done; it's strange to change the language; Jesus did it and so did all of the Church Fathers...and so the list of excuses goes on.
I maintain that this is in fact not okay. In fact, it's hypocritical. If you exclusively use masculine imagery for God, then the God you are speaking about is male. And, as Mary Daly says so well, once God becomes male, then men take the higher ground. Male remains the language default in which the female must decide whether she is included. The male in effect remains God.
I could probably continue write until eternity about male references for God and why I firmly disagree with every argument I've heard defending it. This will be the subject of a future post [hold me to this].
But I move to a more generally concern with gendered language, which is demonstrated in the battle of God's gender. This is concern is: male is default. It happens in every language, English included. But I've noticed it much more particularly as I have started picking up my "ancient lanuages" (Greek and Hebrew to be specific). Unlike English, these languages are actually gendered. Every noun has a gender, and every adjective must be coded to agree with the gender of its subject. There are a lot of ways this can go, but I am going to talk about markedness within language. This is a concept I originally learned in Greek: certain forms are considered more "marked" than others. Unless you have a good reason, you always used the least marked form. For gender, masculine is less marked, neuter and feminine are more marked. This follows in most other languages. If you are referring to a man, you use the masculine. If you are referring to a woman, you use the feminine. If the gender is ambiguous (or you have a mixed group), the gender remains masculine. English-speakers (to speak to what I know) have tried to correct this in common speech (it is now more correct to say "his or her" or even "their" than to say "his"), but masculine still remains the default (most people find it jarring to hear "his or her" and especially just "her").
The problem with this is that it privileges the male, which is the unmarked default. It sounds small, but it is not. Language has power; the way we choose to use language influences our mindsets and what we are used to hearing. To allow masculine language to remain the default continues a system in which men are automatically preferred by virtue of always being included in general language. Those not part of the unmarked group (women) must adapt to deciding whether the language actually includes them in any given situation and to being referred to as part of a gender to which they do not identify.
Of recent, my favorite example of this is from translation of Mark 13.15-16 (part of the apocalyptic sayings of Jesus). My translation of the verse is: "The one on the roof must not go down nor enter from her/his house to take up something, and the one in the field must not return to the things-left-behind to take up her/his garment." If one chooses to bring out the masculine language in this verse, it would read: "The man on the roof must not go down nor enter his house to take up something, and the one in the field must not return to the things-left-behind to take up his garment."
Neither translation is technically wrong: if one interprets this passage to only be speaking to men, then the latter translation makes sense. If one thinks that Jesus is speaking more generally, then the former is more correct. When I produced the former translation on a test, my Greek instructor crossed through the "her" in "her/his." I argued--and still maintain--that my translation is correct as written. Yes, technically I have translated a third-person-singular masculine pronoun ("his" in English) as a gender-neutral term; but in Greek, the feminine equivalent would only have been used if solely women were in mind.
Some might call the latter translation (using only "his") more "literal" but I maintain that this is incorrect terminology. This is the most literal translation if you were translating the text in 1960, when it was still standard in English to refer to both male and female subjects using the masculine. This is no longer standard in English--it is still "acceptable," though I also maintain that it is actually not acceptable to permit sexist language. It is true that Greek does not have the same gender sensitivity that we have today, and it is also true that this makes translating a text into English a challenging task (for authorial intent comes into question). When we translate an ancient text into our own language, we cannot use the sexist language of the past as an excuse for us to continue using sexist language. As I have noted above, there is to much at stake in the way we use language and the power that gendered language has over our thoughts. The male will continue to be God until we are willing to enforce a change in how we gender our language in all areas.
9 years ago
An issue near and dear to my heart! (I wrote my undergraduate thesis on Sallie McFague's metaphorical theology because of my concern about exclusively masculine language and imagery for God)
ReplyDeleteI will hold you to your promise: "I could probably continue [to] write until eternity about male references for God and why I firmly disagree with every argument I've heard defending it. This will be the subject of a future post [hold me to this]." I want to know the various arguments you've heard...
I am interested, though, in your thoughts on Trevor's (our Greek instructor) assertion that using gender-inclusive language in translations of the text lets the authors "off the hook." In effect, by translating HIS as HER/HIS, are we covering up the misogynistic elements of the text, elements that we must seriously acknowledge to be an unwanted but nevertheless very present part of the history of our faith? I am especially interested in this question in a liturgical context, in which the text is supposed to come alive as a guide and companion in our journey towards faith and righteousness. This more devotional/contemplative/inspired/engaged context makes the question of what language we ought to use even more difficult but even more important.
Ugh, now all this is reminding me why I really ought to study Hebrew as well at some point... (and more Greek too...) Then I start thinking about the problems within English itself... and I remember, at the end of the day, it's not about us, it's about God, and ALL of our language, whether about God or the even about the created world, will ultimately be inadequate.
I'll leave you with a few quotes:
“How strangely do we diminish a thing as soon as we try to express it in words.” - Maurice Maeterlinck
“Language fits over experience like a straight-jacket.” -William Golding
But yet I cannot remain silent. No, God's invitation requires a response. One cannot put a lid on the joy that bursts forth from a soul that is captivated (and ultimately concerned!) by the love of God! So I'll invoke T.S. Elliot:
“You are not here to verify,
instruct yourself, or inform curiosity or carry report.
You are here to kneel
where prayer has been valid. And prayer is more than an order of words,
the conscious occupation
of the praying mind,
or the sound of the voice praying."
Thoughts?
I think a major issue here, Elsa, if I'm reading Jimmy correctly (and keeping in mind I don't know Greek!) is that the author may not necessarily be thinking about a man at all.
ReplyDeleteIn other words, the ancient author used the grammatical default, which appears on the page as masculine language. But were the author's intentions to specifically mean "male" or specifically mean "male and female?" We have a choice as English-speaking people aware of the problem and the distinction to reflect either of those options.
But neither of those options can assessed as true, because of the intention problem...we don't know. So I, at least, think the translator has a responsibility to interpret the intention with as much fairness to the ancient author as possible, and as much cognizance of modern gender-problems as possible.
By the way, this is Madison.
ReplyDeleteHi Madison :)
ReplyDeleteYeah, I get your point, and agree. But the very fact that "man" was used as the generic human referent indicates the patriarchical mindset, something we ought not to forget when reading the Bible. But does that mean we should continue using it? In general, in a liturgical context, I would say no. But we can't ever ignore the fact that the biblical authors were enmeshed in their patriarchical worldview - somehow, as pastors and/or scholars of religion, we have to effectively communicate this. Using non-inclusive gendered language is probably not the best way. But occassionally we all need a reminder.
Question: what about with a different text (something less controversial or complicated than scripture), for example, something by Marx or Freud or (we encountered this question last spring in Intro to Theology) Tillich? Where they use masculine language to refer to human beings, should we modify the text to be gender-inclusive?
I thought a little bit about this at my blog vis-a-vis Rousseau, who used a lot of gendered language himself. But I think the question in some sense becomes a question of how much time removes the modern editor from the source; it's appropriate for an editor, when working in more contemporary texts, to put [sic] in the text. But I would hazard a guess -- and guess is right, since when we talk about language we don't know a damn thing -- that (relatively) recent examples of discourse are more easily plumbed, explored, and comprehended than artifacts from a more distant past.
ReplyDeleteI'd say that we're far enough removed from the Biblical authors, and other ancient texts for that matter, that it seems like we run a real risk of inscribing what WE think their thinking was, erroneously ascribing motivations or language to them that was never theirs. In other words -- yes, the texts might have terrible Patriarchal overtones in a lot of places. But maybe we have sometimes read gender into the text where it was never intended to be read that way, and assumed the society was more patriarchal than it actually was. Maybe the feminine is more "marked," but that doesn't mean unmarked language was by extension "masculine."
In other words, we risk reinscribing our own perceptions of the ancient world onto the ancient world, and doing an injustice in the process. (Some of my thinking here is indebted to my absolute fave, Miroslav Volf. In a lot of ways, what we're dealing with in translation in the preservation of a Memory. And his warning, especially in The End of Memory, is that our remembrances can distort the truth and exaggerate the extent to which injustices have been done. And to exaggerate an injustice is, itself, an injustice.
In this sort of translation quagmire, so far removed from its place and time, I think the best option (keeping in mind that we work under conditions indisposed to certainty), given all the weighed issues, is to be fair to both our modern sense of feminist ethics AND our willingness to offer to ancient writers the benefit of the doubt when faced with an uncertainty of register. In other words; if the intended gender is uncertain (meaning masculine in a default form but lacking referents that might clarify its gender), we should err on the side of using neutered language to describe it.
Of course; granting ancient writers this benefit in translation never grants them immunity from the best scholarly tool since paper: the footnote.
(An aside: I am also bothered by the terms feminine and masculine. The binary gender system is problematic enough, and I'm definitely an Acolyte of High Priest(ess?) Butler.)
Quick response(s) to these comments, with the note that I think my next few posts will probably help clarify a lot. Gendered language is such a huge topic.
ReplyDeleteBut in reply to translating inclusively as letting the ancient authors "off the hook" for their sexism. I think there is always a danger that a translation can make someone sounds better (or worse) than s/he actually was. (Translation is difficult-see my next post!). Most of the time, this decision is up to the translator--I won't say that it is wrong to translate "his" instead of "her/his," and you could certainly make a case for why something should be either way. The trouble with translation is there is no east one-to-one correlation from Greek to English. In Paul's letters, the NRSV translates "brothers and sisters" for the Greek term for "brothers" across the born. Sometimes it is clear that Paul meant to refer to men and women (thus making this a good translation), but sometimes, it seems like Paul may be only speaking to men (for example, when he talks about sexual morality in 1 Thess. 4).
Overall, I'd say the most important thing when it comes to gendered language in translation is that the translator(s) must seriously consider each term and not resort to a "one translation fits all" approach.
That being said, I err on the side of inclusivity because there is serious danger to allowing exclusive language to remain in text that are in such high use today. The language we hear and read informs our theology and how we approach our world.
As for updating non-Greek exclusive language, I think it depends on the context. Context! Context! Context! More on that another time.
brilliant comments, brilliant!
ReplyDeleteand Madison, you've definitely sold me with your appeal to Volf's "The End of Memory."
onto the next topic (for now)