Problem: Choosing peace and cursing others often live in the same house.
The Apostle Paul said, "As far as it depends on you, live at peace with all people." But of course, it doesn't all just depend on us. And there's the rub!
My first summer after college I served as a counselor in 7 different church camps throughout the Midwest. One afternoon in a church camp near Omaha, Nebraska, I chaperoned 35 high school campers on a bus headed to a swimming pool.
Suddenly a fast-moving car swerved around us, nearly clipping the bus. I was sitting directly behind the driver and yelled “Yikes!” The bus driver, also one of the camp counselors named Pastor Joe, hit the brakes and screamed, “Go to hell.”
No one was hurt, but the campers froze when Pastor Joe let everyone know exactly how he felt. After pulling the bus to the side of the road, Pastor Joe turned around and he said to the campers, “Sorry. I didn’t mean that.”
Pastor Joe drove on, but 30 seconds later he turned his head around and said, “Yes I did mean that.” I saw the whole thing and couldn’t blame Pastor Joe for his reaction. I thought, “Well Pastor Joe, given what just happened, that was a pretty-good curse.”
When the campers looked at me for a response, I raised my eyebrows and shrugged my shoulders. And of course you can guess what the kids talked about at the swimming pool. That evening when the campers sat around a campfire, singing and talking about their highlights from the day, Pastor Joe brought up what happened on the bus.
It was awkward because he didn’t exactly apologize. He only said that he felt responsible for the campers and his reaction to the driver zipping around the bus—“Go to hell!”—mostly was a response to his fear of nearly losing control of the bus.
Looking around the circle, he asked if one of the campers would pray for him. No one volunteered, so I did, praying this rather lame prayer: “Lord, help Pastor Joe remember to say good words throughout the day, whatever he encounters. Amen.”
This story came back to me the other day when I read Psalm 109 and Psalm 137. Those psalms, among 5 or 6 others, are known as imprecatory Psalms—prayers when the Israelites ask for God’s judgment and curses upon their enemies, especially those that perpetrated evil. An imprecation is an insult from deep anger, wishing evil to come upon our adversaries. Psalm 109 and 137 are curses like “God to hell,” or “God damn you.” Not nice words, to say the least.
Psalm 137 is the most “famous” imprecatory psalm. The Israelites are in exile in Babylon and the psalmist wants retribution against Babylonians. The words cut like a knife, particularly at the end, when the final lines slap us across the face:
“Daughter Babylon, doomed to destruction, blessed is the one who pays you back for what you have done to us. Blessed is he who takes your little children and dashes them against the rocks.”
We all have encountered people who hold influence and power in this world, from corporations to politics to church leaders. We’ve witnessed their impact on the world, and cursed. Well, I have. An older friend of mine, mad at his church board, said, “Damn that board. I wish they would all step down and go to a different church. Or better yet, quit church all together.”
Cursing like that is different from profanity. As a kid, I was taught profanity was uncouth, inappropriate and vulgar, especially saying the f-word. Of course we all learned there were ways to get the rules around actual swearing. I could say “darn it” and “dang it” and “y gosh” and “gosh darn it.”
“You know where all these words come from, don’t you?” my conservative Christian grandma asked me one day. One day I reacted by saying, “My God.” My mom said, “Don’t say “My God.” That’s swearing.
When I was frustrated, my grandpa, who had no interest in church, taught me to substitute saying hell and instead say “H-E double toothpick.” One day I said “H-E double toothpick” in my grandma’s presence. She had this sharp response: “Gosh darn your grandpa for teaching you that.”
Today “gosh” and “dang it” that seem like pretty small potatoes to the language used by, say, the beloved Roy Kent on the popular “Ted Lasso” TV show from 2020-2023. The affable Kent said the f-word 300 times during the series.
I had a friend admit that although he occasionally curses people or organizations, he does have some anxiety about asking God to dash their children against the rocks. “Hmm…” I said, “So you are allowed to curse bad situations but ancient victims aren’t?”
The point is that the Bible is superbly attuned to the impact of evil in the world, and the Bible lets victims speak. I think the Bible lets us speak, too.
Well, now is your chance. Take a big breath and read Psalm 137 out loud, using your best cursing voice as you think of those corporations or governments or churches or people with whom you have had it.
And please don’t say, “Oh, I would never do that.” Because no one will believe you.
Well said, Bob.
Salty tongues unite!
I appreciate that you didn’t go to Ephesians 4 with this, (Proof texting) but held in tension that blessings and curses come out of us (which ought not be). Transparency in our walks means when we curse or blow it verbally, we admit it, ask forgiveness, ask for change and humbling continue on in a word full of drivers who cut us off.