Paul has this big ol' discussion about how he can't act/think as holy as he desires (Romans 7) and how he just keeps sinning even though he hates it. Then chapter 8 starts with "There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus."
Where did he get that idea?
Maybe? possibly? it might have come from something he heard earlier. Paul was a pharisee in Jerusalem during Jesus' ministry, and he likely witnessed (albeit without faith) some of Jesus' miracles and teaching. Do you remember the story in John 8, where the woman was caught in adultery, and the scribes and pharisees wanted to stone her? They brought her to Jesus. They were trying to pit Moses' law against Jesus' teaching that just kept forgivin' people. This story happened in Jerusalem.
And what did Jesus tell this sinful woman? "Neither do I condemn you."
Saturday, February 11, 2012
A PG Rating
From what we'd heard about Marley and Me, the movie was appropriate for entire families, including little kids. Yes, there's the sad ending that you get in all dog-stories, but scuttlebutt suggested that it was a nice, decent, heart-warming story.
We watched the movie last night. I don't know what I'd be thinking right now if the container had been labeled as a PG-13 instead. Probably I'd be thinking it was a pretty nice little story.
But all I can think is, "THIS film was rated PG? THIS?" There was language. No, not much, probably less than I hear at work or at the grocery store. But if I were watching this with my granddaughter or with an 8-yr-old, I'd be perturbed about the language. And the sex. There was way too much suggestiveness, including the main character's womanizing pal. Yes, I realize the married couple was ... well ... married, but look how far things have changed on-screen from when Lucy and Desi, when Rob and Laura, slept in separate twin beds.
I don't know. Maybe I'm just in a puritanical mood at the moment.
Or maybe this explains why I'm happier with Leave It to Beaver and Hogan's Heroes.
We watched the movie last night. I don't know what I'd be thinking right now if the container had been labeled as a PG-13 instead. Probably I'd be thinking it was a pretty nice little story.
But all I can think is, "THIS film was rated PG? THIS?" There was language. No, not much, probably less than I hear at work or at the grocery store. But if I were watching this with my granddaughter or with an 8-yr-old, I'd be perturbed about the language. And the sex. There was way too much suggestiveness, including the main character's womanizing pal. Yes, I realize the married couple was ... well ... married, but look how far things have changed on-screen from when Lucy and Desi, when Rob and Laura, slept in separate twin beds.
I don't know. Maybe I'm just in a puritanical mood at the moment.
Or maybe this explains why I'm happier with Leave It to Beaver and Hogan's Heroes.
Friday, February 10, 2012
The Problem of Sin
Woe is us! The church is plagued with bad practice and bad doctrine. Maybe we could solve it by electing the right guy as synodical president. What if that doesn't work? Maybe we could go to a different church body which has a cardinal or a patriarch that will enforce the rules properly.
Woe is me! I'm a sinner. I keep on being a sinner. Even when I can control my behavior, my thoughts don't comply with my self-improvement plan. I guess I need a new self-improvement plan since the one I have seems to be such a failure.
Sin in the world.
Sin in the Church.
Sin in our relationships.
Sin in our selves.
This is a problem.
There is ONE solution to sin. Only one.
But we protest: No, surely not. Jesus' blood shed on the cross isn't enough. I have to do something. I have to find something else. I have to help. I have to try harder. Forgiveness of sins just doesn't cut it; it doesn't do enough to rid me and my world and my home and my church of sin.
If the blood of God, who made me and you and everything else, if His love and mercy and His death ain't enough to solve the problem of sin, does it make any sense whatsoever to think that something I can do will fix the problem? Do we really think the absolution is that impotent?
Woe is me! I'm a sinner. I keep on being a sinner. Even when I can control my behavior, my thoughts don't comply with my self-improvement plan. I guess I need a new self-improvement plan since the one I have seems to be such a failure.
Sin in the world.
Sin in the Church.
Sin in our relationships.
Sin in our selves.
This is a problem.
There is ONE solution to sin. Only one.
But we protest: No, surely not. Jesus' blood shed on the cross isn't enough. I have to do something. I have to find something else. I have to help. I have to try harder. Forgiveness of sins just doesn't cut it; it doesn't do enough to rid me and my world and my home and my church of sin.
If the blood of God, who made me and you and everything else, if His love and mercy and His death ain't enough to solve the problem of sin, does it make any sense whatsoever to think that something I can do will fix the problem? Do we really think the absolution is that impotent?
So Cold. So Tired.
The last week I've been freezing. It had been especially warm, so why the chills? I'm suspicious that the warmth at work might be making the 65-68° at home feel uncomfortable. I also suspect that my lack of daily outdoor exercise -- whether it's 25° or -10° -- has made me wussy.
Haven't been able to stay awake recently either. I was actually grateful for a big ol' problem at work earlier this week: it required my mind to stay aware and engaged at the time of day where I'd be snoozing on the couch were I at home.
With a calendar that looked exceedingly bare this week (woo hoo!) I had toyed with the idea of a visit in central Illinois, squeezed in between my days at work. But after a few afternoons of daily naps and being so so cold, my brain said, "You idiot, you're on the verge of getting sick. Don't drive ten hours. Stay home and get extra rest." So with sadness I dismissed the idea of visiting my mommy (who probably wasn't up to company this week anyhow).
After driving home from chapel this morning and watching cars fishtail all around me, maybe it's just as well that I didn't make the trip. The flurries forecast for today are no mere flurries.
Haven't been able to stay awake recently either. I was actually grateful for a big ol' problem at work earlier this week: it required my mind to stay aware and engaged at the time of day where I'd be snoozing on the couch were I at home.
With a calendar that looked exceedingly bare this week (woo hoo!) I had toyed with the idea of a visit in central Illinois, squeezed in between my days at work. But after a few afternoons of daily naps and being so so cold, my brain said, "You idiot, you're on the verge of getting sick. Don't drive ten hours. Stay home and get extra rest." So with sadness I dismissed the idea of visiting my mommy (who probably wasn't up to company this week anyhow).
After driving home from chapel this morning and watching cars fishtail all around me, maybe it's just as well that I didn't make the trip. The flurries forecast for today are no mere flurries.
Wednesday, February 08, 2012
An Impression
A customer came in today. I've waited on the mom but never the daughter. I knew the daughter's name without being told and called up her account to begin filling out the deposit ticket. They were impressed that I remembered.
But it's not me that was being impressive.
I started thinking about the customers who made an impression on me when I started the job. There was the one to whom I gave $20 too much. An hour later she showed up with a $20 bill and said, "I think you counted wrong." I was so grateful for her honesty. She made a huge impression on me.
Another customer saw The New Girl and made sure to heckle me and give me the Trial-By-Fire, handing me a transaction that was none too simple, right at the start. "Break 'er in right," he plotted. The heckling is consistent with his fun and constantly upbeat demeanor. He made a big impression on me.
Then there was the customer that chewed me out royally for not wanting to cash a check that I wasn't supposed to cash, and taking the time to consult with the boss. The yeller made an impression on me too.
And then there was this family that came in today. When I first started work, Maggie was sick, and getting sicker. Just when I was wondering day-by-day whether we could keep her unhospitalized for another day or two, a man (who turned out to be a regular, frequent customer) came in and said his daughter was hospitalized. He started to cry. A grown man. In the bank. His strength for his wife and daughter had been holding up fine through the ordeal. But when he was running an errand, when someone asked how things were going, it was suddenly too much. His worries and the depth of his love got the better of his composure. And hitting so close to home with my own worries for my own daughter, that family too made an impression on me.
But it's not me that was being impressive.
I started thinking about the customers who made an impression on me when I started the job. There was the one to whom I gave $20 too much. An hour later she showed up with a $20 bill and said, "I think you counted wrong." I was so grateful for her honesty. She made a huge impression on me.
Another customer saw The New Girl and made sure to heckle me and give me the Trial-By-Fire, handing me a transaction that was none too simple, right at the start. "Break 'er in right," he plotted. The heckling is consistent with his fun and constantly upbeat demeanor. He made a big impression on me.
Then there was the customer that chewed me out royally for not wanting to cash a check that I wasn't supposed to cash, and taking the time to consult with the boss. The yeller made an impression on me too.
And then there was this family that came in today. When I first started work, Maggie was sick, and getting sicker. Just when I was wondering day-by-day whether we could keep her unhospitalized for another day or two, a man (who turned out to be a regular, frequent customer) came in and said his daughter was hospitalized. He started to cry. A grown man. In the bank. His strength for his wife and daughter had been holding up fine through the ordeal. But when he was running an errand, when someone asked how things were going, it was suddenly too much. His worries and the depth of his love got the better of his composure. And hitting so close to home with my own worries for my own daughter, that family too made an impression on me.
Tuesday, February 07, 2012
Upon This Your Confession
In the Divine Service, after the congregation confesses sin, the pastor says, "Upon this your confession, I ... forgive you all your sins ...."
There were times Pastor would be teaching, making the point that what instigates God's forgiveness is not our confessing but His love and mercy. Pastor would ask, "Do you think God forgives you because you say you're sorry?" You could tell from the way he asked the question that the answer was supposed to be, "Duuuuh. NO!" But it didn't seem like a no-brainer to me. "Yeah," I would think or say sheepishly, "that was kinda sorta the impression I had." Of course, I knew that God forgives sin for Jesus' sake. But doesn't it depend on our being sorry too?
Oh, he would talk again and again about how my repentance doesn't cajole God into being forgiving. And I do believe him. (Do you detect a subtle "but ..." in there somewhere?)
Last night when he was talking about such things again, the liturgy came to mind. "Upon this your confession ...." That's what we hear, week after week. I had tried to make sense of it for myself. But last night, I finally asked. And now I can finally say, "Duh! Of course!!"
"Upon WHAT confession?" In the confession we first confess that we are poor, miserable sinners who have offended God and deserved His punishment. We are sorry for our sins. But then what? We beg "of Your boundless mercy and for the sake of the holy, innocent, bitter sufferings and death of Your beloved Son Jesus Christ" that God would forgive. And THEN Pastor says, "Upon this your confession ...."
What confession is the basis for the absolution he's about to bestow? Not "I'm a sinner and I'm sorry." But the pastor forgives on the basis of the truth [that is, the confession] that God is merciful because of Jesus' death on on the cross.
Wow! So all along, the liturgy has been saying just what Pastor had been explaining. How 'bout that?
There were times Pastor would be teaching, making the point that what instigates God's forgiveness is not our confessing but His love and mercy. Pastor would ask, "Do you think God forgives you because you say you're sorry?" You could tell from the way he asked the question that the answer was supposed to be, "Duuuuh. NO!" But it didn't seem like a no-brainer to me. "Yeah," I would think or say sheepishly, "that was kinda sorta the impression I had." Of course, I knew that God forgives sin for Jesus' sake. But doesn't it depend on our being sorry too?
Oh, he would talk again and again about how my repentance doesn't cajole God into being forgiving. And I do believe him. (Do you detect a subtle "but ..." in there somewhere?)
Last night when he was talking about such things again, the liturgy came to mind. "Upon this your confession ...." That's what we hear, week after week. I had tried to make sense of it for myself. But last night, I finally asked. And now I can finally say, "Duh! Of course!!"
"Upon WHAT confession?" In the confession we first confess that we are poor, miserable sinners who have offended God and deserved His punishment. We are sorry for our sins. But then what? We beg "of Your boundless mercy and for the sake of the holy, innocent, bitter sufferings and death of Your beloved Son Jesus Christ" that God would forgive. And THEN Pastor says, "Upon this your confession ...."
What confession is the basis for the absolution he's about to bestow? Not "I'm a sinner and I'm sorry." But the pastor forgives on the basis of the truth [that is, the confession] that God is merciful because of Jesus' death on on the cross.
Wow! So all along, the liturgy has been saying just what Pastor had been explaining. How 'bout that?
Monday, February 06, 2012
Jesus Hushing the Demons
I finally heard the answer to a question I've been wondering about for over forty years.
In Mark 1, there was that demon crabbing about Jesus being the Holy One of Israel and about not wanting to have anything to do with Jesus. Jesus told him to shut up. Then later in the chapter, after Jesus had been healing all sorts of people and casting out demons, we hear that He would "not allow the demons to speak because they knew Him."
So why not let them speak? After all, what they were saying was true: this guy was indeed the Holy One of Israel. It was true that the demons didn't want to have anything to do with Him. It was true that He did come to destroy them. So what's the problem?
In the past I've been told that it would be unseemly of Jesus to have demons telling who He was. Y'know, bad company, bad reputation, and all that. But this is Jesus, for crying out loud. He hung out with tax collectors and sinners. He didn't seem to worry too much about His reputation getting sullied.
But Pastor pointed out the answer in last week's sermon and this morning's chapel. And it makes complete sense!
The demons always get it wrong. They can't speak God's word without twisting it, perverting it, putting a works-righteous spin on it. Even though they may say many true things, it's never fully true. So Jesus orders them to shut up.
In Mark 1, there was that demon crabbing about Jesus being the Holy One of Israel and about not wanting to have anything to do with Jesus. Jesus told him to shut up. Then later in the chapter, after Jesus had been healing all sorts of people and casting out demons, we hear that He would "not allow the demons to speak because they knew Him."
So why not let them speak? After all, what they were saying was true: this guy was indeed the Holy One of Israel. It was true that the demons didn't want to have anything to do with Him. It was true that He did come to destroy them. So what's the problem?
In the past I've been told that it would be unseemly of Jesus to have demons telling who He was. Y'know, bad company, bad reputation, and all that. But this is Jesus, for crying out loud. He hung out with tax collectors and sinners. He didn't seem to worry too much about His reputation getting sullied.
But Pastor pointed out the answer in last week's sermon and this morning's chapel. And it makes complete sense!
The demons always get it wrong. They can't speak God's word without twisting it, perverting it, putting a works-righteous spin on it. Even though they may say many true things, it's never fully true. So Jesus orders them to shut up.
Saturday, February 04, 2012
Eventful Day
On the way home from work, I wanted so badly to open the sun roof ... which doesn't exist on the car I was driving. And this afternoon we sold the car with the sunroof. I will miss it. But one of those old cars needed to go.
Andrew and Bryce are all spiffed up, on their way to fetch the girls for the dance tonight. Aren't they a couple of handsome fellows?!
Peter Walks on the Water
So after reading the story to us from Matthew 14, Pastor asks the school-children, "Could Peter walk on the water?"
Hannah answered, "No."
"Why not, Hannah?"
"He was a sinner. He sunk."
But Joey's hand was still raised. He answered, "Yes, Peter could walk on the water."
"Why do you say that?"
"Because Jesus told him to. And whatever Jesus says, happens."
Perfect.
They're both right!
In our own strength, we can't do nuthin'.
But whatever Jesus says, happens!
If He says "walk on the water," Peter could do it.
If He says "I declare you holy and righteous," then we be holy and righteous, no matter what it looks like to us.
Hannah answered, "No."
"Why not, Hannah?"
"He was a sinner. He sunk."
But Joey's hand was still raised. He answered, "Yes, Peter could walk on the water."
"Why do you say that?"
"Because Jesus told him to. And whatever Jesus says, happens."
Perfect.
They're both right!
In our own strength, we can't do nuthin'.
But whatever Jesus says, happens!
If He says "walk on the water," Peter could do it.
If He says "I declare you holy and righteous," then we be holy and righteous, no matter what it looks like to us.
Friday, February 03, 2012
My Apparent Need for a Hair Product That Will Tame the Unruliness
A man I know is sweet, gentle, kind, and patient. He has some mental illness, but he is no more ashamed of coping with his health than if he had cancer or heart disease. So, yesterday when I saw him, we exchanged superficial pleasantries, and then took care of the business we needed to exchange.
Then he says, in such a kind and affirming voice, "Susan, you have on that long, flowing, beautiful skirt. I just had a vision of you as a Greek goddess."
Oh. Okay. How do you respond to someone who's not your husband who says something like that? I really don't think he was hitting on me. He just saw it as a simple fact that he might mention. With an uneasy and questioning voice, I respond, "Oh? Really?"
"Oh, yes. You know ... the one that has snakes for her hair."
"MEDUSA?"
"Yes! That's the one," he says with an encouraging smile.
Well.
Okay then.
Y'know, most people aren't that honest.
Then he says, in such a kind and affirming voice, "Susan, you have on that long, flowing, beautiful skirt. I just had a vision of you as a Greek goddess."
Oh. Okay. How do you respond to someone who's not your husband who says something like that? I really don't think he was hitting on me. He just saw it as a simple fact that he might mention. With an uneasy and questioning voice, I respond, "Oh? Really?"
"Oh, yes. You know ... the one that has snakes for her hair."
"MEDUSA?"
"Yes! That's the one," he says with an encouraging smile.
Well.
Okay then.
Y'know, most people aren't that honest.
Thursday, February 02, 2012
The Demon-Possessed Man in the Synagogue
The story this past Sunday (in the three-year series) was about Jesus' preaching in the synagogue in Capernaum. They were all astonished because He taught with authority, not as the scribes and the pharisees. And there was this guy in their synagogue who started making a scene: "Hey, I know who You are. You're the Holy One of God. Did You come here to destroy us?" And Jesus cast out the unclean spirit. (It's Mark 1, if you're hunting for it.)
Pastor pointed out a small detail from the story that is easily missed. This guy was a member of the synagogue. Think about it. You know what your church is like. Visitors are noticed. Somebody who is "in our church" is a member, not just somebody who happened to stop by for the day. (And yes, I realize that the Bible doesn't unequivocally state this as an indisputable fact. But still, it makes loads more sense than the alternative: "in their synagogue" would have more to do with being "in the congregation" than "in the building.")
So why did the demon throw his tantrum in response to Jesus' preaching?
Because He taught a different message than did the scribes and pharisees.
The demons are content to keep quiet when the churches are telling people how to be nice, how to be good citizens, how to improve themselves and their spirituality. But when Jesus comes along with a weird and different message --forgiving people who don't deserve it-- the demons get hacked off.
The same thing happens today. The devil is just hunky-dory with pastors who preach self-help messages, eco-loving messages, penance, etc. But when the pastor calls people to repentance and extends God's mercy and peace to them, well, that's something the demons and the self-righteous just ain't gonna put up with.
Pastor pointed out a small detail from the story that is easily missed. This guy was a member of the synagogue. Think about it. You know what your church is like. Visitors are noticed. Somebody who is "in our church" is a member, not just somebody who happened to stop by for the day. (And yes, I realize that the Bible doesn't unequivocally state this as an indisputable fact. But still, it makes loads more sense than the alternative: "in their synagogue" would have more to do with being "in the congregation" than "in the building.")
So why did the demon throw his tantrum in response to Jesus' preaching?
Because He taught a different message than did the scribes and pharisees.
The demons are content to keep quiet when the churches are telling people how to be nice, how to be good citizens, how to improve themselves and their spirituality. But when Jesus comes along with a weird and different message --forgiving people who don't deserve it-- the demons get hacked off.
The same thing happens today. The devil is just hunky-dory with pastors who preach self-help messages, eco-loving messages, penance, etc. But when the pastor calls people to repentance and extends God's mercy and peace to them, well, that's something the demons and the self-righteous just ain't gonna put up with.
Wednesday, February 01, 2012
Superficiality
Superficiality makes the world go round.
I've never been keen on that. I like real. I like genuine. I like honest. But that requires trust and love and commitment.
Customers come into the bank. "Hi, how are you today?" "Just fine. And you?" "Pretty good, thanks." There are certain conversations that are acceptable: the weather, the Packers, gardens, the Brewers, the Badgers, and plans for upcoming holidays (if there's one around the corner). If you really want to push the envelope and go a step closer to real conversation, you might say, "You been keeping busy?"
People say they're "fine" when they're not; they know this is all superficial. Sometimes you bump into someone who's very alone, and you learn not to ask about holiday plans because the loneliness is overwhelming and they can't respond according to the rules of The Superficial Game.
And yet, I'm beginning to see that this is necessary. "Have a great afternoon." "Thanks. You too." "Well, thank you." It's what we do. It keeps things pleasant. It may be shallow. We may not be connecting with those hundreds of neighbors that cross our path. But the other option is grumpiness and incivility.
This pervasive superficiality leaves a person yearning for a real relationship. But so many times, in so many places, that's not an option. So I guess the superficial pleasantries are better than complete aloofness or general crabbiness.
I've never been keen on that. I like real. I like genuine. I like honest. But that requires trust and love and commitment.
Customers come into the bank. "Hi, how are you today?" "Just fine. And you?" "Pretty good, thanks." There are certain conversations that are acceptable: the weather, the Packers, gardens, the Brewers, the Badgers, and plans for upcoming holidays (if there's one around the corner). If you really want to push the envelope and go a step closer to real conversation, you might say, "You been keeping busy?"
People say they're "fine" when they're not; they know this is all superficial. Sometimes you bump into someone who's very alone, and you learn not to ask about holiday plans because the loneliness is overwhelming and they can't respond according to the rules of The Superficial Game.
And yet, I'm beginning to see that this is necessary. "Have a great afternoon." "Thanks. You too." "Well, thank you." It's what we do. It keeps things pleasant. It may be shallow. We may not be connecting with those hundreds of neighbors that cross our path. But the other option is grumpiness and incivility.
This pervasive superficiality leaves a person yearning for a real relationship. But so many times, in so many places, that's not an option. So I guess the superficial pleasantries are better than complete aloofness or general crabbiness.
The Will of the Christian
If anyone desires to come after Me,
let him deny himself,
and take up his cross daily,
and follow Me. (Luke 9:23)
This is our verse for the week. Notice the verb "desires." Paul tells us more in Romans. In chapter 7, Paul uses the word repeatedly as he describes how he wills to follow Christ but is stymied by his sinful flesh. The desire to belong to Jesus and to live the holy life sure ain't gonna show as it ought. But still, Jesus invites us to hold fast to Him.
let him deny himself,
and take up his cross daily,
and follow Me. (Luke 9:23)
This is our verse for the week. Notice the verb "desires." Paul tells us more in Romans. In chapter 7, Paul uses the word repeatedly as he describes how he wills to follow Christ but is stymied by his sinful flesh. The desire to belong to Jesus and to live the holy life sure ain't gonna show as it ought. But still, Jesus invites us to hold fast to Him.
Tuesday, January 31, 2012
Take Up Your Cross Daily
If anyone desire to come after Me,
let him deny himself,
and take up his cross daily,
and follow Me. (Luke 9:23)
If we have to take up our cross daily, that would mean we are not going to become free of the cross any time in this life. Every. single. day. we're going to be back at it, living with that sinful nature, bearing the burden of not being as pure and holy as we'd like, and finding our only hope and rest in what Jesus has done to forgive that icky sinfulness.
let him deny himself,
and take up his cross daily,
and follow Me. (Luke 9:23)
If we have to take up our cross daily, that would mean we are not going to become free of the cross any time in this life. Every. single. day. we're going to be back at it, living with that sinful nature, bearing the burden of not being as pure and holy as we'd like, and finding our only hope and rest in what Jesus has done to forgive that icky sinfulness.
Monday, January 30, 2012
Luxury or Freedom?
Cedric the Saxon, to Athelstane (only remaining descendent of the royal Saxon line), remembering the days when their prison was the Great Hall still in Saxon control, before the Normans conquered the land --
Will Americans come to the same conclusion some day soon? Or is it already too late?
Far better was our homely diet, eaten in peace and liberty, than the luxurious dainties, the love of which has delivered us as bondsmen to the conqueror!From Ivanhoe, chapter 21.
Will Americans come to the same conclusion some day soon? Or is it already too late?
Sunday, January 29, 2012
Being a Grandma
Church is ending. Time to leave. Little Miss Punky holds up her finger, says "Here, Nanna, you hold my booger," wipes the booger on her finger off onto my finger, and goes on her merry way.
Oh.
Gee, thanks, kid.
:-)
Oh.
Gee, thanks, kid.
:-)
Saturday, January 28, 2012
What's in the Creed
Many segments of Christendom care a lot about sanctification. They often spend more time talking about how a person becomes holy than proclaiming that a person is declared righteous because of Jesus' blood shed on the cross.*
So what do we find in the Creed?
In the Apostles' Creed, we pray "I believe in ... the forgiveness of sins." In the Nicene Creed, we pray, "I believe in ... one baptism for the remission of sins." But no mention of my progress in holiness.
I suspect that means something.
* Footnote: Now, by no means am I saying that sanctification is unimportant. I am saying, however, that if the focus is genuinely on the call to repentance and justification, sanctification will of necessity follow, even without anybody haranguing people to be holier.
So what do we find in the Creed?
In the Apostles' Creed, we pray "I believe in ... the forgiveness of sins." In the Nicene Creed, we pray, "I believe in ... one baptism for the remission of sins." But no mention of my progress in holiness.
I suspect that means something.
* Footnote: Now, by no means am I saying that sanctification is unimportant. I am saying, however, that if the focus is genuinely on the call to repentance and justification, sanctification will of necessity follow, even without anybody haranguing people to be holier.
Thursday, January 26, 2012
Is Profanity Sinful?
For some unknown reason, out of the blue, one of my co-workers begged me (out of the bosses' earshot) to say a naughty word on Tuesday. "Please? I never heard you say anything bad. Please, just one bad word?"
"No," I answered, confused.
"Please? I've been having a really bad day, and that would just cheer up my whole week. For me? Please!"
"Why?"
"I just want to hear you say a naughty word."
I was lost as to where this came from, and so was my partner that day. We thought our co-worker was being quite silly. Eventually, she suggested, "Hell? Could you say 'hell' for me?"
Now, I don't know about you, but to me, hell is not a swear word. Think about it: the word is a theological term and is even in the Creed. Confused that she would ask for that word, I asked, "Hell?" She giggled maniacally and then asked for "another" swear word.
When she finally went back to her area, my partner-for-the-day suggested to me, "But 'hell' isn't really a swear word, is it?"
"No. It's a place."
"Yeah, that's kinda what I thought."
So I have been thinking about this interchange. I knew she would pester again for a swear word. And sure enough, she has.
I really don't know what I think about whether profanity is sinful. I do know that cursing and swearing is sinful: the second commandment tells me that. But the profanity that is merely "coarse language"? I've heard discussions about why it is sinful and about why it's not sinful. I've heard discussions about whether "gee whiz" and "golly" and "darn" are sinful, and other arguments as to why they're not sinful. And honestly, I just don't care. Those conversations always seem to end up steeped in legalism or antinomianism.
But here's what I noticed. My co-worker does think profanity is sinful. She may think that she doesn't; after all, she is not opposed to cursing, swearing, and profanity coming out of her mouth occasionally. But there is some drive in her to get me to say something "naughty." Isn't that a tacit admission that she thinks it would be sinful of me to toss out some of those four-letter words? And here's what I'm wondering: If even the world, in all her revelry and self-indulgence, considers profanity sinful, would that mean it is?
"No," I answered, confused.
"Please? I've been having a really bad day, and that would just cheer up my whole week. For me? Please!"
"Why?"
"I just want to hear you say a naughty word."
I was lost as to where this came from, and so was my partner that day. We thought our co-worker was being quite silly. Eventually, she suggested, "Hell? Could you say 'hell' for me?"
Now, I don't know about you, but to me, hell is not a swear word. Think about it: the word is a theological term and is even in the Creed. Confused that she would ask for that word, I asked, "Hell?" She giggled maniacally and then asked for "another" swear word.
When she finally went back to her area, my partner-for-the-day suggested to me, "But 'hell' isn't really a swear word, is it?"
"No. It's a place."
"Yeah, that's kinda what I thought."
So I have been thinking about this interchange. I knew she would pester again for a swear word. And sure enough, she has.
I really don't know what I think about whether profanity is sinful. I do know that cursing and swearing is sinful: the second commandment tells me that. But the profanity that is merely "coarse language"? I've heard discussions about why it is sinful and about why it's not sinful. I've heard discussions about whether "gee whiz" and "golly" and "darn" are sinful, and other arguments as to why they're not sinful. And honestly, I just don't care. Those conversations always seem to end up steeped in legalism or antinomianism.
But here's what I noticed. My co-worker does think profanity is sinful. She may think that she doesn't; after all, she is not opposed to cursing, swearing, and profanity coming out of her mouth occasionally. But there is some drive in her to get me to say something "naughty." Isn't that a tacit admission that she thinks it would be sinful of me to toss out some of those four-letter words? And here's what I'm wondering: If even the world, in all her revelry and self-indulgence, considers profanity sinful, would that mean it is?
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