You can listen to this week’s Devotional here
Author: Lianna Campos
This year, the ARTS camp musical was “What’s Up, Zak?” and put some of Jesus’ time in Jericho to toe-tapping showtunes. It specifically highlighted the stories of Zacchaeus, a tax collector, as told in Luke 19 and Bartimaeus, a blind beggar, as told in Luke 18. To watch the musical in its entirety, click here: https://www.youtube.com/live/SyoaM2wlgdw?si=ObbX4Q2KWULbkA9w
As part of ARTS camp, we have a nightly practice of Vespers. It’s a time to unpack something God-related and pray with and for one another. Not knowing what to expect, I planned a series of talks around a theme I had picked out. I should’ve known better because as God is wont to do, something ended up coming up each day that felt more important to talk about. So like Zacchaeus, I scrapped my plans and went with where the Spirit led. Thankfully I didn’t feel called to climb a tree.
Today’s devotional is focused on a theme our campers picked up on, which is inclusive language. In the story, Bartimaeus is blind, and Zacchaeus is short. The dialogue is fraught with short jokes and the songs are peppered with implications that sight is necessary to experience God.
The song “Restore Me” comes to mind, with singers asking God to open their eyes so they may see the way ahead and to “restore me, make me whole.” Now, we believe that people with vision impairments can still experience God, and we believe that people with disabilities are whole and wholly loved by God. Does it matter then that the words that we might use in worship can be interpreted in ways that deny those truths?
I think it does. I think it does because throughout the musical, Zacchaeus is shown being mean to Bartimaeus specifically because he is blind. Both in musical Jericho and in today’s world, words that we use to symbolize healing are still being used to harm.
In reading through our Inclusive Language Covenant, adopted in June of 1993, I want to highlight one of the beliefs we uphold:
We believe that concerns expressed in relation to inclusive language present us with both challenge and opportunity to renew faith and faithfulness in what we say, sing, and write as a part of a Christian witness we make in both church and society.
This devotional is not written as a condemnation, but as an invitation to continue to think critically about what language we use and to try to do better. And maybe next year, we’ll have a team of campers who focus on inclusive language throughout the production.
A prayer: God, thank you for the gifts of communication and community. Forgive us the ways in which our language excludes others, heal wounds cause by words, and teach us to do better. We thank you God for loving us wholly, and help us to love one another as such. Amen.