Peppercorn Rent

Ephesians 4:32- 5:8
Luke 13:10-17

Let there be no filthiness, nor silly talk, nor levity, which are not fitting; but instead let there be thanksgiving.
Ephesians 5:4

This is so very hard for me. Moving away from the secular world into the Christian one, one realizes how much of modern, secular culture is predicated on sexual content. We can make some obvious comment here about “adult” entertainment, freely available on the internet, if you wish. But that is only a symptom. It’s all-pervasive hypersexualism.

Paul seems to indicate that it was present in Ephesus in the first century and that the Resurrected Christ called people out of that. How do we live into this new method of communication?

So, I find myself in conversations where I want to drop an F bomb, as the saying goes, and I have to stop. I catch myself nearly using a sexual innuendo or tossing out a sex-ladened joke, even one that is clean.

I watched a “Christian Comedian” the other day who – without using one bad word all night – carried on contrary to the Apostle’s counsel for nearly two hours, with evangelicals laughing. When he grabbed on to some man’s bicep and started to comment about how big it was I nearly lost it because come on… are we all so desirous to blend in that we don’t care even if it’s homoerotic humor? We can be just like you heathens… but we do it for Jesus. Paul says, “No, you don’t.” Paul wants all that humor and levity and coarseness and filthiness to be replaced with thanksgiving. Now, I confess I got no idea what means.

In the South we don’t gossip: we offer prayer requests: “Samantha, I need you to pray for my friend Louis, bless his heart. His wife has been dating the butcher and Louis just found out. His kids are all still in the house and Louis has found out that all them are really the Butcher’s too, and he’s been loving on them for 15 years, the oldest one, and youngest one just last year. And, dear Jesus, you’d think he might have known something with all their red hair, but his Daddy’s Momma had red hair so he thought was just in the family. So she done kicked him out of the house and the butcher’s moved in and Louis is staying with my wife and me, Jesus help him. ” And I can imagine St Paul’s advice here would be applied with equal gusto, “Lord I thank you that she is so hot…” Of course all that is levity and silly talk. And I can’t seem to help myself either.

I love the quote above – that swearing is just “peppercorn rent” to the devil who is really in charge. How do we move away?

But I’m working hard at getting the sex talk out: what’s so frustrating is, being aware, how common it is, how many times you have to say “not going to say that” or “just going to ignore that”. It happens at business meetings, on the bus, in church (both in the first and second person). I have a good friend who gets a seriously pained look on his face when it comes up at Church and I find myself taking comfort in his look, because at least one other person hears what I hear.

Can we step away from the sex talk? Or the use of irony and sarcasm? Can we stop the making fun of, and the verbal abuse of others at least in the first person? Can I?

Author: Huw Richardson

I'm no Benedictine, but I'm too old for the Franciscans. I'm in the process of moving servers... so trying to keep both of my "linked sites" in sync until there's only one. There can be only one. Huw Richardson was born in Atlanta under a different name about 55 years ago. I never knew my father nor any of his kin. I’ve lived all over: I was never in the same house for 3 Christmases until I was over 40. I’ve not yet made it to 4. Rootlessness seems to be a way of life and every time I think I’m about to root, it ends up not happening. Yet I’ve made some amazing friends online. I’ve met some awesome people all over the world. I’ve met religious leaders and heads of state and famous movie stars. I’ve also managed to be debt-free. I’ve stood on the Hill of Tara and touched the Lia Fail. It did not cry out. I’ve kissed the Blarney Stone as well, if you can’t guess. I have illicitly touched ancient, holy statues to see if anything would happen and I have never used flash photography when I should not have. I’ve been a bookseller, a call center drone, a trainer, a convert, a preacher, a monk, a planter, a secretary, a writer, and an activist. My patron is Blessed Stanley Rother. When I’m in trouble, he’s got my back. He prays for me, along with St Rose of Lima, St. Catherine of Siena, St John Henry Newman, Bl Fulton J Sheen, and Bl. William Richardson. I’m a Dominican Tertiary and a member of Courage International. This is home: I’ve found my roots by using my wings. What’s next? I don’t know. Part of me wants to just pick out a camper and gig my way around the world. Part of me wants to own a pub in Ireland and feed my soul with good music until forever. Part of me has always taught. Some part of me dances whenever the moon is full. Another part of me kneels in awe in the darkness as all the stars spin but the cross stands still.