Clergy from left, The Rev. Mary Ann Hill, Rector, Trinity on the Hill, Pastor Nicolé Ferry, Deacon Cynthia Biddlecomb, retired; Associate Priest Lynn Finnegan and Pastor Deb Church. Photo by Nate Limback/ladailypost.com

By LYNN FINNEGAN
Associate Priest
The Episcopal Church of the Holy Faith
Santa Fe

In her spiritual memoir, “Amazing Grace: A Vocabulary of Faith,” Kathleen Norris begins by sharing the story of her early faith, drifting away, and re-entry into Christian community. “I drifted away from religion … when the well-meaning adults who taught Sunday school and confirmation class seemed intent on putting the vastness of ‘God’ into small boxes of their own devising. Theirs was a scary vocabulary, not an inviting one.”

Norris’ observation about “scary vocabulary” resonated with me. When we are in a group, we naturally create a unique vocabulary serving to unify the group members. Take for example the conversation of LANL scientists at a dinner party: a mixture of alphabet soup, “TA-55,” “X Division,” “CCS Division,” “MST” and technical jargon. For newcomers or non-labbies, the conversation can be intimidating. Or what about the first time in a yoga class? “Down dog,” “pigeon,” “namaste,” “warrior one,” and “shavasana” seem to require knowledge of a foreign language, zoology, and military science. A new yogi might want to pick up her mat and go home.

So, too, with our faith communities. As Christians, our churches harbor a vocabulary that sounds both exclusionary and cultic. In my own tradition, we use words like “acolyte,” “narthex,” and “sacristy” with regularity. Even churches professing to be “contemporary,” (whatever that means) regularly incorporate “grace,” “salvation,” “Trinity,” and “communion” in their worship.

As Kathleen Norris commented, “Even the word ‘Christ’ was inaccessible to me. It seemed like a code word that Christians used when they couldn’t think of anything else to say. I had no idea what people meant when they spoke with seeming ease of ‘the love of Christ’ … When I first ventured back to Sunday worship in my small town, the services felt like a word bombardment, an hour-long barrage of heavyweight theological terminology.”

I am not suggesting the lexicon developed over the space of two thousand plus years should be jettisoned. I AM saying, however, that if we want people walking into our worship spaces for the first time to come a second time, we should have a greater awareness of how isolating “church” terminology can be, as well as a greater sensitivity to the harmful weaponizing of church terminology. Many who gingerly stick a toe back into the water of organized religion, like the author Kathleen Norris eventually did, have been harmed by institutions speaking but not acting “the love of Christ.” If you are reading this and that describes you, I am profoundly sorry.

In a recent survey from the Pew Research Group, 28% of U.S. adults are religiously unaffiliated (categorized as “nones”) – up from 17% in 2007. The survey revealed most “nones” believe in God or another higher power, but very few go to religious services regularly. Conversely, the U.S. Surgeon General has identified loneliness and isolation as a public health epidemic: associated with a greater risk of cardiovascular disease, dementia, stroke, depression, anxiety, and premature death. What would our world look like if we in faith communities could honestly examine our “code words” in the light of becoming welcoming, safe, and beloved spaces that talk AND walk the love of Christ?

Editor’s note: ‘All Shall Be Well’ is a column written by local women clergy including ELCA Deacon Cynthia Biddlecomb, M.Div., retired (czoebidd@gmail.com); Pastor Nicolé Ferry, Bethlehem Evangelical Lutheran Church (pastornicole@bethluth.com); Associate Priest Lynn Finnegan, The Episcopal Church of the Holy Faith, Santa Fe (rev.lynn@holyfaithchurchsf.org); Pastor Deb Church, White Rock Presbyterian Church (pastor@wrpchurch.com) and The Rev. Mary Ann Hill, Rector, Trinity on the Hill Episcopal Church (momaryannhill@gmail.com).