Newspaper Page Text
Thursday, September 28, 2000
The Southern Cross, Page 5
Everyday Graces
Good gates do not always make good neighbors
the guests in.
At least a dozen cars
were in line waiting to
enter. The scene was
chaotic. Some of the
drivers were residents
with pass cards, and
some were visitors. The
entrance road was narrow,
so residents with cards
Mary Hood Hart weren’t able to drive
O ne evening last week, my
friend was hosting a
dinner and prayer service
at her home. I was to
arrive early to help her
prepare. This friend re
cently moved to a gated
community that employs a
full-time security guard to
check visitors. Residents
are issued cards which
allow them entry. That afternoon,
following standard procedure, my
friend called the guardhouse and
left the guard a list of names of
those attending, so he would allow
them to enter.
When I arrived, about a half hour
before the guests were expected, the
guard was absent from the guard
house. I pulled over and waited for
him to return, but after several min
utes he didn’t appear. Knowing my
friend was in the midst of last-
minute preparations and not wanting
her to drop everything to drive to
the gate to let me in, I broke a rule. I
waited until a resident stopped at the
gate. When he opened it with his
card, I slipped in behind him, before
the gate closed.
When I arrived at my friend’s
house, I told her about the guard
being absent and we both assumed
he’d be back before the other
guests arrived. We were wrong. A
phone call from the first-arriving
guest informed us no guard was at
the gate, and cars were now backed
up from the guardhouse to the
highway. Because my van was
parked in the driveway behind my
friend’s car, she gave me her pass
card, and I headed to the gate to let
around those backed up at the gate.
The guest who had called to alert
us she couldn’t enter was near the
front of the line, so she was able to
drive up to the gate, and I used my
friend’s card to let her in. She then
proceeded to the house, while I
stayed behind to find the other
guests among the long line of cars.
Before I could find the other
guests to let them in, one of the
residents at the scene informed me
my friend’s pass card was effective
only once within a certain time
period. That is, the card I had just
used to let the first guest enter was
now useless to open the gate a sec
ond time. (New to the neighbor
hood, even our hostess hadn’t been
aware of that restriction.) The only
alternative was for me to walk
down the line of cars looking for
the other guests and direct them to
a parking lot nearby. They left their
cars there; we walked around the
gate, and I drove them to my
friend’s house in my van, which,
thankfully, I’d left parked inside
the gate.
Once I delivered those guests to
the house, I still couldn’t relax
because one guest hadn’t arrived. I
headed back to the gate to wait for
the last guest. By the time I
returned, the scene was less chaot
ic. An elderly man was filling in
for the absent guard (who, we
found out later, had quit by walking
off the job.) If drivers had pass
cards, they entered. But if they did
n’t, this elderly resident decided
whether or not to let them in.
As I approached the gate for what
I hoped was the last time, and
because I’d experienced firsthand
the absurdity of a security “system”
gone haywire, my patience was
worn thin. Especially irritating to
me was that the man now guarding
the gate could easily have left it
open for all to enter freely until a
substitute guard arrived.
When I asked him why he didn’t
just leave the gate open for a while,
he looked at me as if I were speak
ing a blasphemy. He told me that the
community paid $80,000 a year for
a security system and he couldn’t
compromise it by leaving the gate
open, even a short time. “You mean,
you think it’s dangerous to leave the
gate open for an hour at six o’clock
on a Wednesday?” I asked. (This is
not a high crime area, by the way.)
Based on his reply, it was apparent
he was convinced, if the gate
remained open, thieves with U-
Hauls would suddenly appear from
nowhere and swarm in.
As I was standing there trying to
convince this man to leave the gate
open, the late-coming guest
arrived. He let her drive in, but he
did so with some hesitation, as if
he still wasn’t sure the two of us
could be trusted. (I couldn’t help
but wonder if he would have
allowed us entry if we were shabbi
ly dressed or in a rundown car, or
happened to be of another race.)
After the crazy beginning, it was
a blessing our gathering that
evening was a prayer service. We
really needed prayer, because my
friend was embarrassed, and I was
angry. We finally did find humor in
the evening, by joking about the
absurdity of it all. Even so, I was
left with a profound sadness about
the lengths some people go to for
“protection.”
Even though what happened in
my friend’s neighborhood was an
extreme example, the untrusting
attitudes of those who created this
system are typical of many
Americans. The sad truth is that,
out of fear of strangers, we create
obstacles which make living in
community, in the true sense of the
word, nearly impossible.
Rather than fear outsiders, if we
consider ourselves Christians, we
should beware of that fear which
makes us suspicious of those who
aren’t “one of us.” If we believe
the Gospel, then we place ourselves
in greatest peril by constructing
barriers to living in Christian com
munity, barriers which reflect walls
around our hearts.
We’ve got it all wrong if we
think that by systematically exclud
ing people we are protecting our
selves. Yes, maybe we’ll save our
property from theft, but at what
risk to our souls?
Mary Hood Hart lives with her
husband and four children in
Sunset Beach, N.C.
^"'vuestion: Your response to the question about
gender-neutral language was confusing to
saylhe least. Esoteric jargon comes to mind. Can
you answer the question in a simple short form
using an example of either horizontal or vertical
language during the Mass? I attended a Jesuit high
school in Chicago and Marquette U. from 1964 to
1968.1 don't recall those matters being discussed
in any of my theology courses during the years of
the Second Vatican Council.
—Joseph A. Blair
A nswer: The question of inclusive language
could not arise until the liturgy was trans
lated into English (about 1967), as Latin is
inclusive, with different words for “people”
(ihomines) and “men” (viri).
“Horizontal inclusive language” refers to all
human beings, avoiding words or phrases that
could be taken as excluding some people. Two
examples from the Order of Mass come to mind:
because the word “brethren,” although it means
Questions & Answers
“brothers and sisters” could be taken, by some,
as referring only to “brothers” and excluding
“sisters,” the bishops of this country granted
permission in the 1970s to substitute “brothers
and sisters” or “friends” for “brethren” in the
English translation of the Orate Fratres (“Pray,
brethren, that our sacrifice may be acceptable to
God the almighty Father”). Likewise, in the
early 1980s, the bishops removed the word
“men” from the phrase “for you and for all men”
at the consecration of the wine. Here the Latin
had only pro multis (“for the many,” which the
Vatican had ordered to be translated in the
widest sense, since Christ died for all). In both
cases, Rome approved these changes. The
revised New American Bible, now adapted for
use on Sundays and solemnities, usually
employs such “horizontal inclusive language”
(for example, “brothers and sisters” instead of
“brothers” in the Pauline epistles), as words
used in the original languages can refer to both
men and women. The prayers of the Mass,
included in the Sacramentary, have been revised
in this direction, but the revision has not yet
been confirmed by the Holy See. For the most
part, neither the celebrant nor the faithful may
make any further changes on their own.
“Vertical inclusive language” would avoid
referring to God in masculine terms. When one
hears the Trinity referred to as “Creator,
Redeemer and Sanctifier” instead of “Father,
Son and Holy Spirit,” one is hearing vertical
inclusive language. Sometimes one hears mem
bers of the congregation trying to avoid using
the masculine pronouns (“he”, “him”, “his”) for
God, often by repeating the noun “God”. No
instance of vertical inclusive language has ever
been approved by the bishops or by the Holy
See. The traditional language about God
expresses personal relationships and is not to be
neutered or rendered impersonal. No one, priest
or lay person, has been authorized to alter this
traditional, vertical “God-language.”
—DKC