Cussing for Christ
I remember going through a phase a little over a year ago where I would consistently wake up in horrible spirits. I don’t know if it was because I was teaching an 8:00 a.m. class and knew that I had to get out of bed before the sun did on those mornings or if I was simply stressed out about starting my thesis. Whatever the reason, I was waking up in less than favorable moods, and I am not lying when I tell you that each morning, the first rational thought that passed through my brain was the word, “Sh*t.” Again, I want to emphasize that I have no conscious idea why this is the first thought that presented itself. I’m not even the “cussing” type, which makes the occurrence all the more staggering. Sometimes the word would simply appear in my mind as the first cognizant thought, and sometimes I would mutter it under my breath as if it were my initial reaction to waking up. At the time, I was leading a Wednesday night Bible study group for my church, and I shared with those folks this strange trend that had developed. Their reaction, like mine, was that it was partly comical that I would be prone to early-morning tourettes, but still a little sad. “Sh*t” truly is a crappy way to start your day. After all, how good can a day turn out when the first thing you have to deal with is sh*t?

Thankfully, I no longer deal with early-morning tourettes though my mornings are often crappy. Reminiscing on that period of life got me thinking about a similar topic—the cussing Christian. I know a lot of folks who are very committed Christians but also feel the liberty to cuss and use other forms of vulgar language frequently, especially around other Christians. I believe that this is occasionally done jokingly, in order to get a reaction, and sometimes done out of a genuine sense of liberty: “These people here know that I’m a Christian. We all know that language is not the most important thing, especially in being a Christ-follower. So, I should be able to use this sort of strong language and not offend anyone.”

To an extent, this is a valid argument. I would agree that cussing does not automatically send a soul straight to hell. I would agree that language is certainly not the identifying mark of a Christ-follower. And I would even agree that other Christians, if they are mature in their faith, should be able to overlook a few vulgarities in conversation to see the person beneath the talk. But here’s why I don’t buy the argument of the cussing Christian.

Christian fellowship is a gift from God. It’s given for our encouragement, for our strengthening, and to bend us toward a common vision. Why should that gift also give us license to speak in an un-Christ-like manner? Such a license works against our common vision of showing Christ to the world. In fact, using the Christian community as an excuse to develop worldly habits, equips us to be more like the world and less like Christ. Why should Christians do, in the privacy of their own walls, exactly what the world does on the outside? And why should Christians embrace behavior amongst themselves that they would not embrace among non-Christians? Imagine if we indulged in other questionable activities simply because our salvation didn’t depend on us being perfect in those areas. We could sleep around with each other; after all, there’s so much impurity in the world that even Christians could not possibly remain sexually pure. We could drink all weekend long at wild parties; after all, it’s been a hard week for us Christians too, and a little bit of drinking won’t keep us out of heaven. And we can also stop going to church altogether; after all, church attendance doesn’t really count for anything spiritually, and I can worship God in my everyday life. Yet, the everyday life is composed of cussing, drinking, and sleeping around. Hmm. What’s happened here? Another case of Christians using biblical truths to permit sinful lifestyle.

These sorts of actions might be described as the parading of liberties—I can do this because I can. And the problem with parading liberties is that it values the freedom of the individual over the grace of God. It is a good thing to know that redemption brings us freedom. But when the freedom is valued more highly than the discipline and obedience owed to God, the gift of redemption stands abused.

Of course, I don’t intend to make this generality true of all believers who cuss. Some of my brothers (and sisters) in Christ have lived hard lives, have grown up in non-Christian homes, or are simply terribly prone to foul language. And guess what. There’s room at Christ’s table for the cussing Christian. I just hope and pray that those of us who do not fit this description and thus parade our liberties through our language realize that grace is best understood when it is not abused. And, having posted this entry, I hope my brothers and sisters in Christ hold me accountable to a high standard in this area.

Wishing Fountains
It's a quarter after twelve...or somewhere thereabout. You may ask yourself why I'm still awake after midnight on a work-night. I guess they're called work-nights when you're out of school. Either that or just "weeknights." Anyway, I have no strong pull to go to bed at this moment. Nothing on my mind. Just blogging.

I intended to write about a current land controversy that's taking place north of Jackson. You know how these successful business people are. They just don't have any sense, and I'm sure I'll get around to writing about that later...by which point some other prominent community member will probably be in the news for some stupid reason, giving me more headaches about which issue is more important to address. I'm sure all three of you who read this blog will sit on the edge of your seats waiting for it.

Tonight, as I sit on my couch listening to the rain through the window directly behind me, I don't feel particularly crafty. I always like hearing the rain as I go to bed. It has a soothing sound to it, and somehow, I feel even more at home than normal in my own bed when I know I am indoors protected from the storm outside.

Last night, a friend and I were talking about wishing fountains. Do you remember being a kid and asking a parent for a coin to toss into a fountain? We were told simply to make a wish and throw the coin--usually a penny or a nickel. No sense in using a whole dime for making a wish. The fountains that were the most fun to throw coins into were the ones that had multiple layers of running water or shelves stacked up where the water could flow down progessively to the bottom pool. That bottom pool was always layered with coins already from the hundreds of folks who had made their wishes previously. I didn't like the idea of throwing a coin into the bottom pool because I thought it would be really easy for someone else to come along and steal my wish later on. Somehow the coin and the wish were one and the same. The best thing to do is to see if you can toss your coin into the very highest level of the fountain. That way it would have a more elite position, and it would be really hard for someone to take it back. So you take a coin in hand, make a wish, and toss it. The funny thing is, sometimes you can't even tell where it lands when all's said and done. It looks like you got it in the tiny bowl in the center of the fountain, but with all the moving water and the reflections of light, you can't really tell. Regardless, you still hope that the wish comes true.

I don't know why I'm thinking about wishing fountains. Maybe the sound of the rain reminds me of the running water. What I do know is that it's been a long time since I've thrown a coin into a fountain. In fact, I can't remember when I last did it. I wonder what that says about my wishes. The time's long overdue for me to try to land one in the top level again.