SWEAR TO GOD
In my decade-and-a-half of ministry, I’ve been called-out a number of times for being vulgar.
People tell me that coarse language and naughty humor are inappropriate in sacred space.
I’ve heard it from strangers and from close friends, including those whose opinions I value and trust, so I’ve given the matter quite a lot of serious consideration over the years. I respond thoughtfully and respectfully to those who share their concern with me. But I’ve always kept it fairly private, trying not to make it a bigger deal than it needs to be. I downplay as much as I can, to ease my own discomfort as well as theirs.
I’ve never done a sermon about swearing in church. I think it’s time.
My personal challenge is to try to deliver a sermon about swearing in church without resorting to swear words whilst I do it. And I’m realizing that this may tricky because people have very different ideas of what words count as swearing.
Is “friggin” okay? Or is that as bad as the word for which it’s an obvious substitution? Is it the word itself, or the intention and sense conveyed by a word that makes it a curse?
What is the difference between swearing, cursing, and cussing? These are used almost interchangeably now. But originally, swearing meant an oath — so help me God, by God — acceptable in certain formal contexts, but blasphemous if uttered casually. Oh my God and for Heaven’s sake sound pretty benign to my ears. But one certainly could argue that these take the Lord’s name in vain, a clear violation of the third commandment. Cursing meant (and still means) wishing someone ill — perhaps invoking supernatural and evil forces to cause another misfortune and harm. Cussing is a derivative of “cursing,” but now seems like a more generalized term for the use of any bad words.
Why are words that describe body parts and bodily functions considered dirty? There are some interesting etymological and sociological reasons for this.
For example: the word “naughty” comes from “naught,” meaning “nothing.” In the late-14th century, naughty referred to needy people, to those who had nothing. But it didn’t take long for folks with money and power to saddle the term not just with financial lack but moral bankruptcy as well. The word holds the idea that anyone experiencing hardship must have brought it upon themself by their own sin and filth. Which is quite convenient for those who don’t like to share.
“Profane” is direct from Latin. Profanum, which means outside of the temple or shrine, unconsecrated. It’s the antithesis of sacred. Mildly, this might simply suggest something secular — not necessarily bad or wrong, but simply unprepared or not suited for sacred time and space. But usually the word sounds a lot more harsh than that. We clutch our pearls at profanity. It threatens as if it’s something dangerous, something disrespectful or even contemptuous, something that defiles all that is precious and good.
It makes me wonder: is the sacred really so delicate, so fragile, so easily undermined?
And who decides who and what gets to be in that temple of goodness, light, and love?
So… here’s my thing:
I try to be aware of when I’m cussing thoughtlessly, or relying on shock value more than necessary to disarm others, or using “profanity” to deflect from my own nervousness. I don’t want to subvert my message. I definitely don’t wish to push people away. The whole point of spirituality, I believe, is to draw us together.
AND — for me, this means drawing us all together, and all of ourselves together. All that we truly are. Including those individuals who have been left out in the past. And including those parts of every one of us that has felt not good enough, not lovable. The naughty parts. The human parts. Body parts and bawdy parts.
There are plenty of pious people who are happy to draw a firm line between the sacred and the profane. I’m not saying that we need to dissolve that line completely — I mean, there’s nothing wrong with declaring some times and places extra-special — have at it. I just don’t think that my purpose as a minister or a human being has anything to do with defending that line.
I’m here to cross the line, and hopefully to make it a little more permeable for others.
Either it’s all God or none of it is. I choose All.
It seems to me that the only real profanity is that which makes others feel unworthy — that which deliberately hurts and excludes. Bigotry, greed, and unkindness are curses.
Other than that, I’m in favor of bringing pretty much all of it to church. Our prayers and our swears. Our faith and our doubts. Worship and dirty jokes.
I know I’m not for everyone. (Admittedly, this drives me a little nuts, because my number-one survival strategy is getting people to like me. But I’m trying to bring inside even that insecurity, acknowledging it as an aspect of holy purpose, as an opportunity for healing and completion.) I’m not for everyone, but I hope I’m for you. And for us.
I can’t wait to be with you this Sunday, May 17. Welcoming special guest musicians, Amy Blackburn and Steve Senn. XO, Drew
©2026 Drew Groves
