I agree that we should be willing to use a person's preferred pronouns because not doing so just shows a lack of respect. I never realized that thing about the pronouns referring to Zeus. That's fascinating. We do have to build those bridges, for sure.
Mark, you write: “Instead of mentioning gender dysphoria, I referred to the brokenness we all share which is fueled by the lies in our hearts and the wounds of our past.” Unpacking that insightful reflection would require writing a book, and takes a lifetime of difficult, grace-filled processing and prayer. We would need to be a fly on the wall to witness (see, hear, smell, feel) the interpersonal dynamics of such a divine appointment. Every encounter, every sermon, every book needs to broadcast in some grace-filled way, “Hello, my name is ______________, and I am a sinner.” The “saved by grace” part can wait until our false sense of security (and superiority) has been put in its place. The old Shaker hymn affirms, “’Tis a gift to be simple, ‘Tis a gift to be free, ‘Tis a gift to come down where you ought to be . . . .” True vulnerability establishes common ground and safe space that leads to mutuality and finally, solidarity. This applies not only to the supposed outcast, i. e. “the foreigner in the O. T.,” but also to all of us at all times. That kind of virtuous heart must become embodied as a lifestyle which naturally engages with others and enables them to take the risk of opening themselves and their story. In this way Jesus mediates the encounter, and not our heady, information driven self-righteousness. “Lord, help us!”
I agree that we should be willing to use a person's preferred pronouns because not doing so just shows a lack of respect. I never realized that thing about the pronouns referring to Zeus. That's fascinating. We do have to build those bridges, for sure.
Thank you for this compassionate, well thought out and Biblical response to a very complex issue.
Mark, you write: “Instead of mentioning gender dysphoria, I referred to the brokenness we all share which is fueled by the lies in our hearts and the wounds of our past.” Unpacking that insightful reflection would require writing a book, and takes a lifetime of difficult, grace-filled processing and prayer. We would need to be a fly on the wall to witness (see, hear, smell, feel) the interpersonal dynamics of such a divine appointment. Every encounter, every sermon, every book needs to broadcast in some grace-filled way, “Hello, my name is ______________, and I am a sinner.” The “saved by grace” part can wait until our false sense of security (and superiority) has been put in its place. The old Shaker hymn affirms, “’Tis a gift to be simple, ‘Tis a gift to be free, ‘Tis a gift to come down where you ought to be . . . .” True vulnerability establishes common ground and safe space that leads to mutuality and finally, solidarity. This applies not only to the supposed outcast, i. e. “the foreigner in the O. T.,” but also to all of us at all times. That kind of virtuous heart must become embodied as a lifestyle which naturally engages with others and enables them to take the risk of opening themselves and their story. In this way Jesus mediates the encounter, and not our heady, information driven self-righteousness. “Lord, help us!”