Now before you get your undies all bunched up, let me clarify what that means. Cursing more means using "cuss words", the kind I grew up believing no Christian would ever mutter. The kind I spent a week feeling terrible about when I said "shit"—to my own surprise—in sixth grade. It does not mean using the Lord's name as a curse word. That is something else entirely, with which I'm wholly uncomfortable. However, most four-letter words have become completely acceptable amongst my generation. So much so, I've noticed them being used in job interviews. Saying "shoot" today is the equivalent of wearing a sign around your neck that says, "I don't know how to interact with society."
This is a loosely held belief, not a conviction. Your mileage may vary.
And for drinking, I determined I would partake more regularly, not the point of drunkenness.
Both of these decisions were related to my reaction against the very tight religious rules under which I lived for a decade as a missionary. The organization I worked for often held these things in wonderful tension, but towards the end, people were confusing priorities and the freedom of the gospel. I'm not saying they got it entirely wrong, just that they swung the pendulum far enough the one direction, that I reacted when I left and chose to swing it back the other (again, probably a bit far).
Now that I'm a non-full-time-missionary I find myself wrestling with just diving full on in to hedonism. Or at least desiring it. Partly because I've now, for the first time in my life, not been living entirely for the purpose of holiness.
For most of my life, I was seeking to be holy, seeking to eradicate each and every sin and making that the laser focus of my life. As I preached the gospel repeatedly in China I realized early on that the Gospel is not about sin management, it's about a savior who has already solved it for us. Our lives should be about keeping our eyes on Jesus, not laser focused on zapping our every remaining sin (a vain life-goal if there ever was one). While I knew, even early on, that life was not about sin management, I was under a religious system where it was difficult to live any other way.
But in embracing the freedom of the Gospel, in reacting—as strongly as I have—to the religious foolishness (the same religious foolishness I think Jesus would have reacted to, and did react against with the pharisees), I feel a little lost.
My life was about holiness. Now it's about keeping a business afloat. My life was about praying for people, and helping guide them spiritually. Now it's about keeping clients happy and managing co-worker relationships.
I don't believe there is anything less holy about what I'm doing now, but it sure feels less holy—or at least less meaningful. I am certainly less-often reminded about the kingdom importance of what I'm doing. And I'm also certainly praying for people less often. Though the Lord regularly tells me this is exactly where He'd have me, it doesn't mean I "get it".
At it's core, I think I've reacted thinking, "If I'm called to be a missionary in China, I'm going to chase God and His holiness with all my worth. But, if I'm called to be a white-collar American worker, I'm not sure I want to serve this way. I'm not sure I'm willing to see it as an equal calling. And I'm not sure I'm willing to put in the same effort for the holiness I previously sought."
And goodness am I stuck with no resolution, just wrestling with this.
The grace of God and the joy we have in Him and the excitement we experience in salvation is great—however you approach it. That said, without really stopping to dwell on the absolute misery of hell, and eternal separation from God, it’s difficult to realize just how great that salvation is. We will probably never understand it, this side of heaven.
When we preach the truth to people, when we call them to the Lord things like hell, condemnation, and eternal damnation are things we try to avoid because it’s been used in fear tactics where Christians have “preached” against those we believe have committed sins that are unforgivable. But no sin is unforgivable. With the blood of Jesus everything is redeemable. Literally everything. And the damnation we avoid, the separation, the hell we avoid both in the next life and in this life, are so profound that our salvation is worth more than we can imagine.
Therefore calling others to truth—now—is calling them out of damnation. Out of separation. Out of hell, even in this life. Salvation is great, and the Lord can enter in to even very sinful situations without convicting a person of every sin all at once. But the glory we’re promised, the joy we can experience, is so much greater than the separation we previously had, that it is profoundly worth communicating clearly.
Call your friends out of sin, where you can, where you have authority to do so, where you can do so in love. Because the night and day contrast between the hedonism of this world, and the joy of a life lived in Christ is just that—profoundly different. It’s worth pursuing right now. Heaven awaits now.
Don’t accept sin when heaven is promised. Don’t settle for sin when salvation is free. Don’t avoid the truth when joy is literally standing at the door ready to be let in. And don’t deny those around you the truth when you think it’s love to ignore it. It’s a hard line to walk (balancing truth and love). But an essential one nonetheless.