Cussing Pastors...

I was 17 years old the first time I ever heard an adult Christian leader purposely say the word "f*ck."

I was sitting in a musty college classroom at Eastern University in Pennsylvania and listened to a man named Tony Campolo talk. Somehow, our youth pastor had managed to secure an audience with this man, who was (and is) a leading evangelical pastor, thinker and activist.

Campolo's primary message to us wasn't what you'd think. He told us how we were all just a bunch of suburban, comfortable white kids and how if we were ever really going to know the heart of God and build His Kingdom, we'd have to climb out of our convenient, comfortable lives and go to places where real people were really hurting, and then do something about it.

He told us a story about going to Haiti, and as he was leaving on a prop plane from a small airstrip, a woman who was dying of AIDS ran onto the tarmac, desperate and screaming. He attempted to hand her baby to Campolo because she knew he was American, and his ties to this nation and its health care was her child's only chance at life. She then threw herself into the plane's propeller, instantly killing herself. She did this to force Mr. Campolo to take her child.

A stunned silence fell over all of us.

He told us about working in inner-city Philadelphia, and how the toughest task of that job was convincing young men and women that their lives - lives filled with drugs and abuse and abandonment and hurt - were *easy* compared to some people's on this planet. And then convincing them that the way to get past their hurt was to help others who were less fortunate.

At one point, while he was talking, Campolo got worked up. He said something to the effect of "The problem is, most Christians don't care about injustice or the fact that millions of kids die. They don't give a flying f*ck about any of it."

We sat in stunned silence. Did this guy just say...

Mr. Campolo got irritated instantly (perhaps at himself). He stammered. "Great," he said. "Now the only thing you'll remember about this visit is that I said the word f*ck. And you won't remember anything else!"

Tony was wrong.

I remember a lot more than just the mere fact that an adult leader who was a Christian swore. I remember his passion for justice and how for Campolo, that demanded - DEMANDED - action on the part of those who want to honor God with their lives.

But.

I do remember the fact that he swore.

Ed Young's Definition of Cussing


Looking to the Bible, we don’t find a list of "naughty" words to stay away from. In Ephesians 4:29, Paul admonishes us to watch the way we talk. This doesn’t refer to specific words, but to the character of what we say.

That's why I was interested in this video by Ed Young, who is a great guy and pastor of one of the 5 biggest churches in the nation.

Ed is speaking specifically to pastors, here, but the application is interesting for anyone who is a follower of Jesus. Ed says that we shouldn't cuss, but his definition is a bit broader than you might expect. Young includes the following words:

• That sucks.


• I'm screwed.


• I'm pissed off
.

• Crap.

Young says that young leaders should avoid such talk. He says it's filthy and scatological and not creative in the least sense.

Not all Christians necessarily agree. This article at ChurchMarketingSucks.com has some insightful hings to say about the cultural and linguistic contexts that define what's offensive and what isn't. They say:

Taking offense at another Christian's actions doesn't automatically mean they're in the wrong. It also doesn't mean everything is admissible (this isn't relativism 101). It's a tough line to walk."

Some Final Personal Reflections
This whole thing has made me really do some introspection. I talk a lot. Too much, frankly. In the words of one of my mentors, "Dave, you talk when you should be quiet, and are quiet when you should talk." In general, I think I'm learning to submit more of my speech to the Holy Spirit and to err on the side of caution. Why risk offending someone over mere words that I can just as easily not say? That's the general council I hear from the Apostle Paul, anyway.

I don't always do a good job. This morning, while serving my children breakfast, I stepped barefoot on one of my son's toys and said, "Freakin' A, that hurt."

Not cussing. But not clean and honoring to God, either. I'm a work in progress. And I will work to let the Lord renovate me.

That being said, in the end, I'm pretty sure God will be far less mad at Tony Campolo for cussing in front of me than he will be at the scores of other Christians who see the world broken and in need, and ignore the voice of God who is shouting "If you love me, please...do something!"

God can look past our words, which are merely the attempt of the human heart to express itself, and see the person behind them. There's something to be said for "being real" and "authentic" with God, I think. There's also something to be said for not sinning in our speech. That's the tension, isn't it.

What do you think?

Why I Can't Root For Kobe

There's a scene in the new Spike Lee movie "Kobe Doin' Work" where Kobe is trying to show that he is a good teammate and an all-around good guy. This of course, is not true. One of the biggest secrets of the NBA is that Kobe Bryant is a world-class prick, but nobody is ever allowed to admit this. Ever. At any rate, in the movie, to show his "I'm just one of you guys" down-to-Earth side, Kobe walks up to fellow-Laker Sasha Vujacic (who is from Slovenia) and speaks Italian to him.

This was to show Kobe's chummy-chummy side. The only problem was Vujacic's reaction. He looked like someone who had just seen his mom make out with Zac Efron: utter confusion coupled with a little bit of fear. It was as if Vujacic was saying to himself "Wait. Why is Kobe talking to me? He never talks to me."

And that scene is why I will never root for Kobe Bryant.

This doesn't mean I can't appreciate, as a fan of basketball, what Kobe is doing and has done on the court. With his win tonight, Kobe firmly cemented his legacy as one of the top 8 best basketball players of all-time, behind only Magic, Jordan, Bird, West, Oscar, Kareem and Russell (not in that order). He's the second best 2-guard in the history of the NBA.

But I am not a fan. If I were 11, I wouldn't put a poster of him in my room. If I were 20 and not as white, I would not buy his replica jersey and attempt to wear it to play pick-up basketball at 24-hour fitness.

Because I don't admire him as a person.

Italian Prince History Isn't Your Strong Suit, Is It?
Now I know what you're thinking. you're thinking, "Oh. It's because of the rape charges in Colorado, isn't it, you judgmental jerk?" No. As tragic as infidelity in marriage is, that's not my reason. It was for a little while, but then I realized if I was going to stop watching sports that prominently featured philanderers, I'd have to start watching either bass fishing or 8th grade girls badminton.

That's not why I don't like Kobe.

The answer to that lies in the ways that even those who marvel at him - his biggest fans - describe him.

The ABC announcers kept referring to Kobe as Machiavellian. Apparently, these announcers don't know what that means. It's not laudatory, guys. It's like calling someone "Pol-Pot-esque." The announcers kept pointing out that Kobe rarely encourages his teammates, holding them to impossibly high standards bordering on perfectionism. "That's what I call leadership," crowed Jeff Van Gundy.

No, Jeff. That's not leadership. It's called being a self-consumed, results-driven success addict. Berating people and staring them down when they make a mistake might make them perform better for a while out of fear, but it's also vaguely manipulative and not really good for fostering healthy interpersonal relationships.

I suppose it's not the fact that Kobe keeps winning that bothers me. It's the way he approaches the game. It is all about winning. And you get the sense with Kobe that teammates are expendable parts, mildly necessary in his quest for trophies. For example, on January 31 against Memphis, a driving Kobe fell directly into the knee of starting Laker Center Andrew Bynum under the Grizzlies' basket. On the replay, you can see Bynum's knee was bent straight back. As he's writhing on the floor, Kobe looks at him. I'm no psychologist, but see for yourself. His expression is more "Dammit. There goes the effing title" than it was "Oh man, I just hurt my teammate. I hope he's okay." See for yourself.

Yeah, Kobe is relentless and tireless in his pursuit of victory. Yes, Kobe's work ethic is legendary.

But to what end?

The Logo's View of Life
Jerry West, the man who while in the Laker front office was responsible for drafting Kobe said that it was this insatiable need to win that made him want to draft the 17-year-old kid.

The same Jerry West who famously quipped that basketball comes down to either winning or misery.

Misery.

Misery?

Really, Jerry. That's misery? Losing? At basketball. You obviously don't know what the word "misery" means. Go to Africa sometime, pal.

And this to me is the fundamental problem, and why I could never be a fan of Kobe. He takes basketball, he takes his work, he takes his career too seriously. For Kobe, not winning is misery. It eats him up. It drives and motivates him.

And this is the problem. Kobe thinks that winning is the point of life.

This is his life's message. This is what he says, what he shouts, every time he steps on the court, whether he gives a pre-game interview or not. Winning is life.

Religion and Sports Don't Mix
Contrast this to Dwight Howard. During the telecast, ABC did a brief interview with Dwight Howard, whose two missed free throws not only cost the Magic Game 4, but also a realistic shot at the title. As much as these Finals catapulted Howard into the NBA Elite, his colossal free-throw misses in Game 4 were the most direct factor in the Magic's soul-crushing defeat. This is what Howard said:

"I kept thinking, I lost the game. I lost the game for us. And the Lord kept telling me, "No, don't think that way."

Now, I've been watching sports as a rather rabid fan for about 15 years now. I've heard dozens of players give a shout-out to God. I've heard some be more specific, giving their shout-outs specifically to Jesus. I even heard Larry Johnson thank Allah after his 4-point play in New York in 1999.

But I've never heard a player (not even one as devout as David Robinson) admit that the Lord spoke to them about their performance on the court. Let alone that God encouraged them. Let alone that God encouraged them in a devastating, series-ending, title-chance-dashing failure.

You'd think that God would say something like, "You get paid 20-million a year, this is your JOB and you can't hit one of two from the line? Are you kidding me? Seriously, are you kidding me?"

But that's not apparently (allegedly?) what God said. Apparently, God said, "Don't think that way."

And this makes sense. Because God has a knack for turning failure around.

Dwight Howard might never win an NBA title. This might be as close as he'll ever get. But he seems to have something that Kobe never will.

Peace.

And that's worth more than 4 trophies.