So I only apologize to my mum for swearing if I accidentally swear in her presence, and to any of you readers who might take offense, let me just say, I’m truly, very, fucking sorry. I started this blog about two and a half years ago (has it really been that long?) for therapeutic reasons. It boils down to, I was jealous of Sam. Why should Sam be the only one allowed to scream his fucking head off and tell irreligious jokes (which are, on the record, always hilarious, occasionally blasphemous, but always very well -thought – out.)
That dude was very smart. Maybe too smart. He found a way, but I don’t know if it was the right way. Screaming, yes. Profanity, yes. Anger, yes. Bitterness, yes. But where do you draw the line at the definition of blasphemy? Well, I’ve probably crossed it (“cross-ed” it…?) a time or two, won’t be the last time if I have in the past. I’m just sorry I don’t know the lines of demarcation. I don’t even think the Pope knows. I’m not even sure Sam crossed it himself. Yeah, he probably did.
I think we know when we’re in heaven, or hell, and by the time a person is in hell it’s too damned late (“damned…”) where the lines are or were. I think we know when we’re ridiculing God, or Jesus, and when we’re carefully constructing a humorous, ridiculous implausibility. And I think Sam tried to lean toward the latter. I heard a joke once about how Jesus carried off walking on water. Because oil and water don’t mix, and because oil sits on the surface of the water without breaking the surface tension, he had oiled his feet, took off his sandals and voilà!, walk very carefully and you’re miraculous. I know it was a miracle though and not a magic trick, because Peter was able to do the same trick for a little while, and you know after fighting with the storm all night, old Petey didn’t have enough oil on his feet to do jack-mirack. And after walking to the lake to catch up with the disciples, in the storm, Jesus didn’t either. He only had His Divine Self to hold himself above water. And the power to haul Peter up before he drowned, and the power to tell the storm to shut the hell up.
If you were Jesus, God in the flesh, and your flesh was tired and all you wanted to do was sleep, wouldn’t you be a little irritable if your disciples woke you up asking you to fix stuff? “JESUS!!!! WAAAAKKKKE UUUUPPPP!!!! JESUSSS!!! We’re all going to DIE!! The boat’s getting swamped!”
“Oh, puh-leeze, STUPID storm, would you JUST SHUTTETH UP!! I’m TIRED!!” And then poor Jesus goes back to sleep. And being a well mannered and otherwise gentle person, says NOTHING to his disciples about it.
And speaking of “shutteth[ing] up,” I’ve just taken 5 days off from writing this crap, and nobody thanked me for giving them a break. But you’re welcome.
I hang out with a bunch of really conservative, staunchly well-mannered Christ followers. They don’t smoke or drink or swear or chew, and they don’t hang out with girls that do. That’s fine with me. But here on my blog, I don’t give a fuck what you do; it’s your choice. In fact, a little drink as long as it doesn’t take over your whole life, isn’t a problem to me. Nobody chews tobacco any more. We like our white teeth, and we don’t like getting cancer that eats off our face, our gums, our tongue, our throats or our stomachs. If you do, none of my business. Smoking? I don’t care. Swearing? That’s probably hot. I bet old Petey knew more than his share of profanity, I mean he was a sailor for Christ’s sake (I did it again!).
Here’s why I don’t care: Jesus was known to be a wine drinker, a friend of tax collectors and sinners. See, the stuff they judge us for today is the same damned stuff they judged people for back then. Oh, and I don’t want the reader to miss that “tax collectors” was a special category of sinner. But fuck, whatever, you can have your own special category of sin and I don’t care. You can hang. You might accidently hear a little sermon, but I hope you’ll forgive me for that. It’s my special category and I occasionally slip something out there.
Whatever you do, whatever you’ve done, I don’t care. If it bothers your conscience, if your conscience says it’s a sin, for fucks sake, stop. And you can leave that behind if you want.
I Peter 4: 8 Above all, love each other deeply, because love covers over a multitude of sins. 9 Offer hospitality to one another without grumbling. 10 Each of you should use whatever gift you have received to serve others, as faithful stewards of God’s grace in its various forms.
THAT it seems to me is what is important: Cover those sins up with love. Be nice to people. (Oh, shit. I do grumble sometimes, sorry!! Sorry!! So that needs to be covered with a little love, too. Or maybe a lot.) And serve other people instead of just yourselves. You can be a minister, or steward, whichever you want, of God’s grace.
John 14:12 seems very clear to me:
12 Very truly I tell you, whoever believes in me will do the works I have been doing, and they will do even greater things than these, because I am going to the Father.
People are so petty and small when they judge other people. But is that all there is? In His own words, instead, we’re challenged to have a little faith in Jesus and do the “greater things.”
What’s your “greater thing?”
Go do that.