Dear Doubtful Disciplinarians:

Swearing, any form of vulgar talk or profanity, was strictly prohibited in my childhood home. A simple “darn it!” could result in a thick layer of Lava soap rubbed directly on tongue from the bar. (Lava, interestingly enough, was not as disgusting as Safeguard or other forms of deodorant bath soap, although Irish Spring was not too hard to endure. Ivory soap was the least offensive. The powers that be discontinued the use of Fels Naphtha when it was pointed out it had a long-lasting anesthetic quality perceived to be too chemical for simple potty-mouth aversion therapy.)

Once the extruded tongue was properly schmeared with a visible layer of cleaning agent, the perpetrator was instructed to leave the tongue sticking out until the prescribed time had lapsed, usually around a full minute. The tongue remained extended to reduce the chance that too much soap would be ingested; corrective measures were calibrated to prevent the punishment from descending into abuse. While time passed, before the permitted rinse phase of the ritual, there were usually a few Bible verses recited as a reminder of our striving for purity (e.g. “Let no unclean thing proceed from your lips,” Ephesians 4.29; “Do not take the name of the Lord thy God in vain,” Exodus 20.7a; or, most frequently, “These six things doth the LORD hate: yea, seven are an abomination unto him: A proud look, a lying tongue, and hands that shed innocent blood, An heart that deviseth wicked imaginations, feet that be swift in running to mischief, A false witness that speaketh lies, and he that soweth discord among brethren,” Proverbs 6.16-19. While the Proverbs passage does not specifically address vulgar speech, the text did reference the tongue.)

The rinse phase concluded the process. We were permitted whatever time it took to flush our mouths at the kitchen sink, again being careful not to swallow. Once the mouth had been cleansed, final instruction included some words about being our best God-following selves and the observation that correction was an expression of love (Proverbs 3.12). From there we were permitted to return to whatever activity inspired the profanity in the first place.

The discipline of discipline has changed through the decades. It’s taken me a lifetime to no longer flinch when the elastic holding a rubber ball to a Fli-Back paddle snaps. Back when the paddle was fashioned from plywood, the figure-eight portion of the toy became a tool of corporal punishment when released from its tethered sphere. Spankings weren’t all that bad in our house, always administered to a fully clothed bottom and confined to no more than three swats. Again, these restrictions provided the differentiation between a paddling and a beating. We were never beaten; we lived, after all, in a Christian home. I must confess, I preferred a quick spanking to a laborious time-out.

Which brings me to yesterday’s charge and benediction. The praise team had just sung a wonderful song praising the protection of El-Shaddai, the Hebrew word most often translated "God Almighty". As I undertook the ad-libbed teaching moment, I confess a certain flinch as it occurred to me that the term “God Almighty” is most familiarly used in a flagrant violation of the Third Commandment, as in “Jesus Christ, God Almighty! I can’t believe you took the Lord’s name in vain, again!”

What makes discipline so complicated is how quickly the enforcer adopts the identity as the hand of divine purification and the punished is placed in the role of one being cleansed. I believe we’ve made progress. I am no defender of corporal punishment, but non-physical, emotional negotiation can be equally abusive, as can social isolation or physical depravation. It is a complicated issue for both parents and prosecutors; we may no longer flog, but I’m not sure extended solitary confinement is any more humane. At its core is the self-understanding of the enforcer and the perpetrator: at what point do they understand themselves with empathetic equality?

Which brings me to the third phase of the disciplinary cycle that preceded the punishment and instruction. There was always a waiting period before the sentence. As a child I believed this was part of the torture—we had to think about what we had done, tremoring prior to the meted punishment. Later, I learned that this time was not intended to heighten our anxiety, but as a moment for my parents to temper their anger. “Fathers, provoke not your children to wrath: but bring them up in the nurture and admonition of the Lord,” wrote the Apostle in Ephesians 6.4. It was a few moments for self-examination, preventing momentary rage from overtaking their desire to nurture.

It strikes me that as both in-home and in-society disciplinarians we spend more time discussing method than motivation. Do we pause and consider El-Shaddai, one of God’s many names? If God alone is the source of all power and might, how do we exercise the wielding of temporal power without taking our advantage as an opportunity for vanity? “…[F]or God will not hold him guiltless that taketh his name in vain.” (Exodus 20.7b)

Soaping up to be a better person, I remain,

With Love,
Jonathan Krogh
Your Pastor