Radioactive Mutant Zombies and Joy

My middle daughter spurns the idea of "fitting in."  When her class was issued a school project involving dressing up like a Bible character and presenting an oral report on that character, I assume that most of the girls chose Esther and will show up at school in a sparkling princess dress and crown.  My daughter, out of sheer stubbornness, chose Balaam's donkey.  I wasn't sure whether to be proud, or irritated, but I found myself driving her to the costume shop on the night before Halloween in an attempt to find donkey ears and a tail.  

The shop was a wasteland of picked over shelves and tired irritated employees who were exasperated by the constant stream of last minute shoppers who were clogging the aisles, and yelling at their children, their spouses, or their parents.  We squeezed between a six foot tall robotic grim reaper statue and a couple who were having an unusual amount of difficulty deciding which kind of fake blood to purchase.  Overhead was an enormous "radioactive mutant zombie decoration" oozing neon pus.  Amid the commotion and gore, my daughter tugged on my sleeve.  "I don't like this place," she whispered.  I didn't care much for it either.  That crowded aisle stood for everything distasteful about Halloween to me--the rampant mindless consumerism, the preoccupation with the violent and macabre, the insistence on creating a supernatural realm without any moral governance or order.  I could understand why Christians would opt out of the celebration altogether.

That was last night.  This evening, I took my daughters out trick-or treating.  Everybody in our neighborhood was out of their houses, congregating in the street, smiling and greeting one another.  I talked with neighbors I hardly ever see and some that I've never met before as our children ran up and down sidewalks squealing with joy at the latest gifts of candy they had been granted.  An elderly African American woman made small talk with me while an Asian man over-generously filled my children's buckets with candy that he spent a good portion of his paycheck on.    An astonishing number of people took time  to address and compliment each of my children individually.    There was a palpable sense of community and connection--of kindness, generosity, and even joy.  I could understand why Christians work to redeem this strange slice of culture for Jesus. 

I recognize that Halloween is a polarizing issue among Christians.  I'm not attempting to defend or attack the holiday.  I see valid points on both sides of the argument.  I think that most of the modern cultural elements of Halloween--dressing up, trick-or-treating, carving pumpkins, etc. tend to fall squarely into the realm of "disputable matters" which Paul mentions in Romans chapter 12.  "Whatever you believe about these things," Paul admonishes us, "keep between yourself and God."  That's a wise command, although we have a terrible time keeping it.

It takes a supernatural wisdom to sort through all the details of life on this good but fallen planet.  It's a good thing we have the Holy Spirit to lead us through these dangerous and confusing territories.  In the meantime,  may God give us wisdom to reject what is evil and accept what is good as a gift from Him.

The F-Bomb and Thinking About Our Words

I downloaded Mumford and Sons new album "Babel" on a trusted recommendation.  I couldn't even make it more than a few songs into the album without hitting repeat.  The music was fantastic--like a British arena rock band got into a bottle-smashing fight with a bluegrass quintet in some quaint Irish pub.  While the music was what got my attention, it was the lyrics that really began to stick with me--they were rife with biblical imagery (starting with the title track which references the tower of Babel in Genesis 11).  The songs consistently speak in the language of Christian theology about brokenness, sin and the need for redemption--and the idea that redemption can only be received as a gift, by grace.  All, in all, many of the lyrics appeared to be more "Christian" than those of many bands marketed specifically to Christian audiences.  Then came a jarring song late in the album, when frontman Marcus Mumford suddenly dropped the f-bomb--repeatedly.
It's a frustrating and bewildering choice of language that has been made by several of my favorite "not-christian-christian-bands" (U2, Over The Rhine) forcing me to retire their albums from my playlists for the duration of my daughters' childhood years and, perhaps, beyond.

I hope I'm not being legalistic in my discomfort with certain words.  I know that the Bible never says, "thou shalt not use the f-bomb in thy speech (nor listen to music nor watch movies that do)."  I understand that at any given moment, God is infinitely more concerned with what is happening in my heart than what syllables are being formed on my tongue.  I know many musicians, artists, and communicators (some of them Christian) have no problem with using harsh language.  Profanity, they would say, as I recall Bono saying one time, is just the percussive section of language.  Words are just words, and sometimes unsettling, jarring language is required to communicate unsettling, jarring ideas and to shake people from complacency.  I understand that idea, but I don't know that I agree.

Proverbs 18:21 tells us that "the tongue has the power of life and death."   James elaborates on this concept with a somber warning:  "the tongue also is a fire, a world of evil among the parts of the body.  It corrupts the whole person, sets the whole course of his life on fire, and is itself set on fire by hell" (3:6--extreme, I know, but I didn't say it--James did!).  Neither of these verses are speaking specifically about profanity, but they both affirm an idea which we are prone to forget--words are not, indeed "just words."  They are not inconsequential pebbles that we can toss around without thought--they are more like sticks of dynamite, objects which can be used responsibly for great good or irresponsibly for great harm.

As followers of Jesus, our words become instruments which we can play for God's glory, or tools which we can use to build God's kingdom.  That's why Paul encourages Timothy to "set an example for the believers in speech"  focusing his words on sharing Scripture and teaching people about God (I Timothy 4:12-13).  That's why the Colossians are admonished to think about what words they use in their day to day speech, especially with those outside of the faith:  "let your conversation be always full of grace, seasoned with salt" (4:5-6).  We are to think about our speech, they way a gourmet chef thinks about a dish they are making--we are to season it so that it always taste like the delicious grace of God expressed in Jesus.  Scripture also reminds us that as followers of Jesus, we are no longer to use our speech for selfish or destructive purposes such as expressing "anger, rage, malice, slander, and filthy language" but rather for   teaching and encouraging one another, singing praises to God and expressing thanksgiving (Colossians 3:1-17).

I hope that God gives all of us grace and wisdom to use our words for His purposes--to build up and not to destroy.  And I hope that Mumford and Sons consider making a new album without the harsh words--I'd love to introduce my children to their music someday!