Nobody swears like a pastor. Isn't that what they say?
When I was first beginning to contemplate ecclesial work I was convinced I could never be a pastor because of my, well, to put it nicely, my "potty mouth." Ever since a late night driving around the outskirts of Cincinnati with my friend, Tushi, I could not stop cursing. It was as if she opened the flood gate of all the curse words and profanities I had stored up in my 18 year life span. While over the years I learned to refine my vulgar vocabulary, it never really did go away. In fact, when once I slipped and let loose a stinging string of hair-curling words in front of my mother, she literally fell off her chair and exclaimed, "TIFFFAAANNNNYYYY, not even God says those words!" I thought she was going to faint.
How could I be a pastor if I couldn't clean up my vocabulary?
But, after years in seminary and in the pastorate, I am convinced my mom was wrong. In fact, if God were a person I am sure God would use those words. After all, there is nothing like a well-placed "*@!#" to make your point. One of my colleagues once got the advice,
"A good pastor is someone who knows when it's ok to say words like damn and fuck."
How true it is!
Of course, you do need some restraint and the wisdom to know when and where to use the words. Perhaps saying, "Please rise for the call to fucking worship," may not be the best choice
(as was the suggestion of a friend who our clergywomen's group taught to swear). But, I believe that using these words makes us human and helps us connect to others in a more authentic way.
There are times when the, "hmmm, that must be difficult," trained pastoral response is far from
adequate for life's messy situations.
Sometimes nothing less than a good @!*?! will do!
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6 comments:
Ha! Danna and I used to swear at each other regularly because sometimes you just need to yell "F#$% You!" And it's better if you can yell it at someone you love.
I have a bad habit of swearing.
One day a close college friend of mine called from California asking me what I was doing. I told him that I was working on my goddamn sermon for fucking church on Sunday. Was it too much?
Hell no, Dave.
Hi Tis
I'm glad I found your lair.
I'll be checking it out. I'm expecting to discover interesting things.
Swearing eh?
I'm not a fan of the blue tongue but I've got one too.
I've done some of my best cussing in the presence (but perceived absence) of God. Not only in the presence, actually the invective has often been directed at His(?) august personage itself.
Your story reminds me of my father, an on again off again raging atheist and who swung to uneasy hope from time to time. Fortunately he moved to hope 2 days before he fell, broke his ribs, went to hospital and died all within a week.
When things weren't working out so well for my 'on again off again raging athesit father', he would say with a smile and (oddly) no profanity.....
'well that's enough to make a preacher cuss'.
Welcome IA! Glad you found your way here. I don't think God minds the cursing so much, in fact I'm sure there is divine delight in our passions and foibles.
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