The One About The Swearing

I do not wish to apologise in advance for the length of this post. It is all relevant and worthy of reading. Whether you choose to do so is, of course, another matter!

Last week I called something "funky cool" and the person I was talking to immediately assumed I had said "fucking cool". The fact is that to do so hadn't even occurred to me - worrying. It was looking like I may have been giving up my corner on swearing before I have even argued the case for it. But I could not let that happen, so today brings the long promised post on using words that are bloody rude...

I met a friend's mum over Christmas and when she heard my "story from dark to light" she asked me some fabulous questions. (Quite a pentecostal background btw.) They were:
1. Have you received the Holy Spirit yet?
2. Do you speak in tongues yet?
3. Have you stopped swearing yet?
I laughed so hard. I then tried to to explain why I didn't think no. 3 was necessarily a necessity... she told me that I would be convicted in time.

The whole image of being changed when you become a Christian is an interesting one. Of course the point is that you are a new creation, standing in the grace of God. Things about life are going to look pretty different, the darker it was before the starker the change some may say. And I have talked a lot recently about how much I have changed. It's been fucking amazing actually, to look back and gasp in awe at the incredible effect knowing Jesus has had on my life.

But on the other hand, something cool one person said about it all was that I was utterly different yet more me than I had ever been. And one of the things about me was my creative linguistic expression. That and my desire and giftings for shocking other people.

Now. Don't hear that and think that my adamancy to explete stems purely from a willingness to be contentious. This has been something that has affected my interpretation of this issue but it has also been something that has been challenged as time goes by. From an early point of thinking it is hilarious to say that "God is fucking amazing" because I really felt that Christians were "stuck up their own arses" about swearing I have mellowed somewhat. In a way I wish I could still say that classic phrase but I feel more uncomfortable about it. Though I don't think it's the word so much as the capacity to belittle what I really think of God - making a point is not what praise should be about.

So, let me outline to you what I have discovered and pondered on as I make my journey from f'ing and blinding to slipping into alternative lingo without even realising.

Before I begin I must first deny that swearing is for "boring people". I have found it to be very creative and I also think that it does a very good job of emphasising things when it has to. I don't care what you say, there is a reason that they were invented and it wasn't to disempower communication. Most people don't like it because of the strength of the expression and whilst it can be quite sad to use the same vocab every other word the same can be said for people that blandly utter non-swear words and atleast the ones that do it aren't afraid of making an impression.

That said, it has little bearing on my thoughts. I found myself absorbed into a very Christian environment when I starting going to church in Switzerland. I love my pals there dearly and this really isn't about anyone in particular, actually a large part of this is to do with culture or should I say the mix thereof. So many people were shocked by my language. It is fair enough, I sort of cultivated it to shock (mostly my parents!) but at the same time I had never met people who genuinely were taken aback by it. Yet I sometimes felt very strongly that the reasoning behind the discomfort I caused was not because I was offending anyone in a really personal way but more because I was crossing an arbitrary line that they had down. It really depended vastly on the continent of origin of the person who was reacting but I suppose the argument was that it was an unholy way of speaking. And I just saw this as legalistic mumbo jumbo. I really couldn't believe that people gave a shit what words I would say when it was clear my motivation was not ill.

So I have to admit it became a bit of a thing that Kat(i)e did. There were those that really appreciated the "fresh of breath air" that I brought actually, believe it or not! The way I saw it, language is a tool and these words were able to bring comedy, expression, and challenge into situations. I felt that people needed shaking up and it was my job to do it. Like I said, I was always one to stir so why not incorporate that role from before into the Kingdom now?

I was challenged in this of course, sometimes rightly so, and as time went by my usage got whittled down and down and down.
The number one command is to be loving and I didn't want to cause offence to people, particularly strangers or the vulnerable, so doing it in public I felt had to be metered.
As for children, well they probably wouldn't get that I had theologically reasoned why I wasn't in the wrong and so I had to guard the impression that would make.
It goes without saying, though I better had, that it is never right to swear directly at someone in an abusive way.
God loves this world and every body and thing in it and to be disrespectful is not cool.
Phrase like "fucking cool" and "bloody brilliant" are only every meant to add emphasis. When talking about something genuinely bad I could add it there too but negativity in general is not cool so I don't think I condone it then either.
That said, I would sometimes tell Satan to "fuck off" but then I heard that even the angels were polite to him so I figured best not.
One person told me that they witness by not swearing in a swear heavy environment and I can totally dig that. If it shows you are different. I just stuck to my guns that I was showing I was different in a different way. That I was not subject to the arbitrary laws of the church (small 'c') that wanted to put people into a box.
A big thing I realised was the whole "stumbling block" issue in Romans and as I spoke to Christians that said they struggled with swearing and felt bad when they messed up I realised that my "job" wasn't to get them to be OK with it as for them swearing is a big deal and I had no right to lead them into a place of guilt.
All these things added up to a limited context where I could let it rip! I never did adhere to the whole "don't swear in church" thing as God is everywhere and his temple is no longer a building but me and if I can swear at home I can definitely swear in the big old pile of bricks down the road. I did continue to swear, around those who weren't grieved by me but only for me!

You may argue that the loving neighbours and brothers thing means that challenging other Christians to not be legalistic goes out of the window. I know what you mean, but I have to say I don't think it is that black and white. If we accepted people's existing thresholds as the place within which to function then we may never get to the real honesty of life or the stuff that God wants us to do that is truly important, as we are caught up on insignificant details. There is the story of Tony Campollo (sp?) who got up at a conference and talked about how shit it was that people were dying in Africa but that the really shit thing is the fact that people react worse to the swearing than the situation. He got banned and people are still dying in Africa 10 years on... I feel that within loving there is sometimes the need to be cruel to be kind and I refuse to accept that because people find something "unacceptable" that they should be allowed to always not accept it. If we all went at the pace of the slowest runner then progress would be appalling and sometimes the slow ones need motivation forward in order to grow.

That said. Being the lesser of two evils does not make something right. What arguments have I heard against me? (Now is the time to stop if you think this post in long enough!).

Well, the main points were taken straight from the bible, which I must admit is pretty strong. I will try and remember the best ones:

Ephesians 4:29 - 5:7 which talks about unwholesome words and coarse joking being obscene and unholy.
James 3:1-12 which is about taming the tongue and the power of the words that leave your mouth.
Matthew 15 where Jesus himself discusses what comes out of your mouths being the things that make you unclean.
I've probably heard more but I never made a list of them all (feel free to add any you think of) and I already think these are all good points. I also think that my response is not going to be changed by this argument for, as I see it, the way all of these counter mine is if I am swearing in a way that is motivated by cruel or unholy intentions. Which is not at all my point.

For you see, language is a tool. It has evolved over so many years and words have meant so many things that I cannot see how the utterance of one is objective since even the definition is subjective to time and place. Did you know that in Māori the word for coward sounds just like fucker? And when we use the word gay it used to mean happy, then homosexual and now, for many silly "laddish" cultures, rubbish. Surely the context of a word is the thing that gives it meaning and thus power? If I am using "fucking" or "bloody" as qualifiers, or saying "shit" to mean "no way?!" then does that actually proclaim a heart that is coarse or unclean? In this subjective environment, motivation must be the only thing that counts and if a person's motivation not to swear is because they think people will frown upon them, it doesn't mean that God cannot see the secret hate words of frustration that they mumble to themselves. Doesn't cheeky verbalised bant beat hidden and internal angst any day?

Some say that language may be this mutable thing but that, actually, it is defined by how society sees it and not how I want it to be seen. Apart from the fact that many other people in society use it the same way as me (for I didn't just make up "love-swearing" but rather adopted it) and we cannot possible decide who's opinion is more valid, I postuate that perhaps refusing to accept swearing as wrong can instead take the power out of the words and stop them from being able to spread hate.

I sat next to the national director of Agapé at dinner tonight (check me and my name dropping!) and I told his all of this. He came up with the same ol' chestnuts for a while but then he did offer a new gem which I was quite thoughtful on. Right back in the day (when people were still friends with dinosaurs) man was told to name the animals. This dude's idea was that perhaps, in our era of "post-modernism" where we all talk about language as being this mutable thing, maybe this is actually a lie that keeps us from the fact that words have got specific meaning because we give it to them. A lion is a lion, end of. We created this language and we can't just decide willy nilly that "shag", for example, doesn't talk about sex in a degrading way. The meaning is there and is fixed and, as we all know, words have power; maybe by hiding this power from humanity a clever ploy is under way to get us all cursing and bringing negative connotations in secretly. Maybe that is why campness is so stereotypically jovial - because being "gay" spoke of joy before bumming. (That wasn't his example by the way!) Now, I can't fully accept this because of the historic way languages have morphed and evolved and even biblically speaking the first definitions were changed at babel, but I can see what he says about a word's meaning hanging around even when the people present don't intend it to. Still, there must be a cross over point when a connotation is changed? I mean, I have met miserable gay people... plus the word "wicked" used to mean evil and now means great and I'm not convinced that that speaks curses over everything cool to be found in North-East London. Something to think about but by no means a definitive answer. And what, are we supposed to go with the flow and just use words as society intends us to? Letting the world put us in a box?

I actually have a theory, which I will throw in here seeing as the post is already ridiculously long. I have heard the word "shabba" said in tongues (Christian language of the Holy Spirit, kinda like a secret language with God) by quite a few people and apparently a lot them famous charismatic ones all say it, like a popular slogan. Make sense, if you hang out with the same people you use the same lingo. Now, if I get so excited I can't express it sometimes I just want to talk in tongues and you know what, I think that maybe "shabba!" is angel talk for "shit!" When meant in a good way. It is a holy exclamation! Why not, eh? We all need to blurt it out sometimes. After all, aren't tongues for when you run out of human words? Screw society and all it's definitions, I'll use holy words. I don't know what they mean at all, so noone can corrupt them!

Anyway. Back to "swearing". I use "" because I think that the current implicit connotation of "to swear" is negative and my point is that the words aren't necessarily and shouldn't be tarred so. Life in Jesus is meant to be about freedom, not regulation. I do think that I am truly free to do this and the pleasure of taking those words and knowing that I am not condemned to use them is pretty cool! I also think that I am far far far too adamant about it and that, actually, if I deem it so possible that those people who think swearing is objectively wrong are themselves wrong then it is contrapossible that myself deeming swearing to be subjective is also wrong.

I may or may not be right but what I am not is God and I feel, after arguing my corner and taking the anti-legalistic high ground for so long, that I have become legalistic about my right to swear. Also, I may well say it is about the heart and not the actual words, but if my motivation becomes fighting then I am not loving and I am not being cruel to be kind but merely to be right. Which is definitely a load of bollocks.

So, it is now time to surrender. To say that, despite the frustration at falling into the stereotype and the potentially unnecessary softness of Christian life, that I am prepared to do it anyway. Acceptable or not, maybe it is important right now that I don't swear, in the same way that it is important my friend's nan does. Or quite possibly that none of us should in our plight for purity. Whether language is mutable we could discuss till the cows come home... the thing that Jesus wants is for me to be mutable. I don't know that the Holy Spirit has convicted me to stop swearing but He has convicted me to be willing to, to be open to changing even this deep-rooted defining personal feature in order that I may take on the features of Jesus instead. And so, this lent I will be fasting all my fave words and I won't even use "bums" "tits" and "willies" in case they are displacement. I'll have a swear jar too, though the plan is for it to remain empty. I don't know how I'll feel about taking it up again after Easter and so tomorrow, on one final splurge as I leave pasturate, I may well have to bid them C U Next Tuesday! :-O

Inspired by a Fictional Nun

New developments in the never ending saga that is my Philosophy essay (my, what a boring saga that is) are underway so I suppose I had better fill you in on where things got left off, a week ago tonight, when I realised that despite all the hope in the world I was not going to get it done... I'm finally sharing the relevant parts of the post I wrote last weekend before I went slightly awol and had to wait till I was back in the game so it wasn't false enthusiasm. Here goes:

Jean Jacques Rousseau may have had ADHD but I bet he didn't have deadlines

Ok. A side note. I am starting think that my attitude of "I can't but it's OK 'cause God can" may have been slightly self-defeating and perhaps not the most helpful. Not allowing for the idea that God's input might come from who I've already been created as, instead of all success arriving in an external miraculous bang. I was so sure that CBT is science's discovery of faith, I forgot I can still have faith in myself. Not in myself to be great objectively but in myself as made in the image of a clever, creative God. So I will take that and move ahead with a different outlook, thanks to some good chats with my mum. Believing in God doesn't mean I should stop believing in me, I am after all a subset (part of the body of Christ) and therefore the first implies the second!

But that lesson is a part of what God has been doing and so I can't regret not applying it sooner. I must simply look at what has come to pass and learn from it... and this seems to be one of many things to learn.

As it stands I have an extension till next Friday (20th) and many thanks for the support from my university. My tutor told me weeks ago that Jean Jacques Rousseau (bit of a fave of mine and from Geneva don'tcha know!) had ADHD and he just managed it with working on loads of things at once... when it went a bit tits up I said to him that thing what I wrote above and he totally agreed and has been really helpful. I have an ace doctor and everyone seems to want to facilitate my "special needs" so that, even though I do hate it, at least I can get over myself and ask for help.

It has been pretty irritating that I am still in this place. Still not secure in my ability to succeed, still not being able to socialise freely (though I have some amazingly support friends and family so that is cool), still under pressure. Still totally dependent...

But I have come to the conclusion that that is where God wants me. Indeed, this whole "I'd rather not, but..." attitude is *quite* silly I realise. If it is what God is doing then absolutely it is the best place to be so I have got to stop begrudgingly accepting those things that I would not choose for myself as some kind of self-sacrificing act. His purpose being worked out is the only sensible option to seek and to be anything other than totally grateful is a bit ridiculous... especially as the occurrence of things you would tend to avoid must be when God has specially put them in place to make sure they happen, meaning He is making a specific personal effort in our lives so that we get what we need. Ergo, thanks for everything!

So actually, last Thursday night life was alright. I won't say I was amazing and had complete integrity, I had a big moment where I panicked and despaired and was grateful for a wise sister to speak truths into my life, but I then found this miraculous peace and the joy I had spoken of earlier that day. Which was not me. That is, it didn't come from within.

The reason I say that is 'cause I have been in this place before. As I alluded to, the semi-diagnosis of ADHD has been no surprise because every year since I can remember, whenever "deadline time" came round, my world would fall apart. It's the reason I failed at uni my first first year, then had minor breakdowns the next two years, then took a gap year (where my world was rocked!) to take a breather. I have so many memories of "night before" 's even from before my GCSE's (school at age 14-16): that feeling of panic, despair, resolution, apathy. I had all these techniques (one of my favourites being clothes shopping in ASDA at midnight) for escape or distraction. It became the scariest thing in the world as time slowly brings round the moment where you know it is all on the line and you almost certainly can't make it better. I had so much fear in being a student and having to face this. I love the idea of academia but I just stopped being able to cope with attainment.

So coming back to uni, finally with clarity about why this happens and "fortunately" with a new found faith, I knew what I had to do was trust in God. Trust Him to find me treatment, trust Him to be my treatment, trust (this was a whisper but was never a truly considerable fact) that if I failed it would be the right thing. When I had my first presentation that required me to read and understand this really difficult subject I felt like if it didn't happen all my faith would die, because I knew I was so dependent on His help - it just about came together. The second time I knew it would be horrible but that it would happen and I could feel how my faith was growing. (I have this great analogy to do with my broken shower. If I never end up giving it then do ask me in person.) This essay at the end of the course became the crux of the issue. Those tiny other things all building up to this big moment where all my hope is pinned on Him and how knowing Him changes my life: from failure and despair to success and delight.

And I couldn't do it. Not even a bit, the bottom fell out of my point leaving me with no hope of reformulating my essay over night. I don't understand anything else in this course at all so this was the only hope for... AND, the amazing part is, I was glad.

In the run up to Friday I was learning A LOT. In particular seeing how my faith did not depend on finite, here and now successes, 'cause the really important stuff is the eternal. It went through my mind as I wrote about this then that actually, perhaps the only was I would know this to be true is if I could experience it. Don't tell me I sabotaged myself, believe me I was all about closure on this baby, but I can SO see how God knew this would be right for me. For one thing, now I know for a fact that my faith is bigger than what my degree has thus far chucked at me. This is a milestone in intimacy and security with God. This is truly astounding!

'Cause knowing Him does change my life. It change the very definition of failure and it wipes out capacity for distress. This is where peace that passes understanding comes from. Following Jesus isn't about life going better; sometimes it's even worse (caged animals don't get hunted). It's about what is important being so utterly altered that in the face of anything horrible, joy can flow. Only one thing we know cannot be touched by the world but that is the only thing that matters anyway - our way to God and the relationship that is enabled because of that.

I think that God is picking off my fears one at at time. To steal an ideal from Mother Superior in 'The Sound of Music' (for which I will not apologise), you cannot escape your fears by running away (back to the Abbey). Even if you run to God, you can't then expect everything to no longer be there, you have to face them. So, like Maria with Captain Von Trapp, I see that God has been doing just that in me. He isn't always going to be our hiding place. There as a refuge, we must then take the strength He gives that enables us to face our fear, so that it can never again have a hold, no matter how dangerous our surroundings.

I used to be afraid of rejection, so I had to experience it in my post-tenebras era (I didn't even intend to put myself on the line... I suppose that was the point!); I hated the idea of performing in public in case I sucked, so when I did, I did! (the Halloween gig, I'm not exaggerating it was *quite* a disaster but it didn't actually matter!); I dreaded disappointment so it just kept coming 'til I realised that I have hope in more important things... now I stare failure in the face and I don't even flinch. Well, not at this minute anyway. I don't suppose I am done with as yet! The point is, though, that these things may seem scary and like nothing has changed but because I am different they don't have the same effect, the power is taken away.

So I can look back at those times, see what it was God has done, and be actually grateful. As my friend Jenny points out, maybe I am sometimes just analysing too much and need to wait till I get a complete perspective from the vantage point of being further up the road. (She didn't say it exactly like that but poetic license...!) It is true. I now get what was happening then, I feel like I may understand what happened last Thursday night, I have no idea what will possibly be the net result of this whole affair (nay my life!) but I can rest assured that it will be totally the best thing 'cause that is what God promised.

So I am setting myself against "I'd rather not, but..." 's, not because I think that it is possible for me to achieve that amazing holy status by making the decision to, but because I haven't actually got a clue what my alternatives really are and I don't want to begrudge, even for a moment, what amazing progress God has in store... I mean look at Maria: she married a rich, sexy captain who could sing!

Backtrack

I’m blogging ‘cause I want to. Deal with it. The paper evolved to something more exciting and more manageable which is now on hold because I am having a personal crisis, so I am back. For the time being anyway.

I went on a Christian conference and stopped believing. Worse than that, I went on an Evangelism incentivating weekend and stopped loving others.

We are talking genuinely not caring about unreached people groups.

I wish I could tell you I’m better now but I can’t. I can tell you how I feel about it all though.

Like I’ve lost everything.

I draft this on a Sunday night. On Saturday I felt aflame. I had some wicked bad chats with people I care about over Christmas. Thought I was getting really excited about God’s work in my life and in how he uses/is going to use me. Even at the start of the conference I was like 'ooooh I’m getting encouragement and guidance and lovin’ all this surrender'.

Then in the blink of an eye it was gone. I was in shock. Confused. Crying a lot and just realising that the whole thing was made up. Back in March my best friend stopped being my friend when I first discovered God and said I was always bound to “‘cause I was so miserable all the time.” Oh my goodness 'they have a point' I could suddenly see. In the midst of this I have to go out and do street evangelism which either was a huge success ‘cause God wants to show he can use me in my weakness or out of some irony that it is still about how bloody good I am at approaching randoms and “fulfilling my commission”.

As I realised more and more how I just don’t care like I should about these video clips we are seeing, I must have one by one broken down in front of everyone from my “team”. Great. Now I’m attention seeking.

Later we had a Christian rock band (lol) come and do a gig and all I wanted to do was dance and love it but all I could think was “my bubble has burst and now it is over”. The worst it’s ever been since the start. I eventually ended up talking to my dear friend Grace (so glad of her name!) and the situation came down to thus: I can’t possibly just start believing again by choice ‘cause it will be fake, like I was always afraid it was and had (I thought) worked through the first time. It could be Satan backlashing to good stuff, for example how the evening before I felt I had loads of direction to write a column for the regular student paper (pray if you believe) particularly in this verse, but I can’t assume that either. The joke was that Satan lying to me is the less of two evils (the greater being that it is definitely not real, obviously).

Somehow though, I came to a bit of a point where I could, almost bizarrely, have some semblance of hope. Wrapped in irony and cynicism I concluded that there was a chance this could all be part of God working amazingly in me as a response to certain areas I have been praying about. Particularly given a friend prophesied over me in November that God would drop in really deep foundations of The Word, Hope, Faith and Love that would be incredibly painful ‘cause he wanted to do it quickly so that I was “ready” soon. The first three I have had sort of confirmation over (not that they are finished, obviously, it is always a work in progress) but I was (and still am) battling with the love (not never having it but like it was not consistent to or from me and still had a long way to go, I may explain at greater length another time). It is the greatest of these after all. Last term was not easy but it was not unbearable… and then this weekend the pain started to hit. Wow. The very opposite of love became so true for me.

So when Grace said she felt like God was doing something really deep (which I took with huge amounts of ‘yeah buts’) I shared that other prophecy and she got all excited ‘cause she said that when her sister had a baby recently she wanted it to be quick and the midwife told her it would be much more painful if it was and she just had to not resist the pain and go with it. Grace is certain that’s a word for me – that for this to happen I just need to let it hurt and see the fruit that comes straight after.

What do I think? I dunno, that I have nothing to lose I ‘spose. It’s either gonna be even better than before all this, or the worst thing ever, and both answers require simply waiting. Sure I’ll let it hurt, be it from sheer surrender or because I am too miserable about my life being over to care. Time will tell.

The funny funny thing is that since I got this decision I’ve started being less upset and more cynical. I am now doubting my doubt and think it is me trying to find something exciting in the fact that I am nearly a whole 8 months old and seeing the reality of life instead of the holiday. Yet I can’t make it happen now, even if I am subconsciously faking the pain.

So I’m just waiting for deliverance – ba dum ch. I will still keep some semblance of 'The Life' up of course, not sure how much... I just hope that God’s scale of quick is one that I can relate to. Until then, everything will just have to come with caveats. For example: God is so amazing isn’t he? Or else not at all real that is.

Wouldn’t it be strange if my blog turned non-Christian half way? I wonder what that would do to my hits?


Seriously, a post-script as I publish. I figure either I was totally wrong about all what has happened thus far and am at the brink of it going horribly wrong; or that God is Sovereign and can bring me back 'cause he is faithful even when we aren't. Apparently. There hopes to be a sequel as another day has brought development of sorts but my bed is calling me for now...