I was recently in a Facebook conversation in a theology discussion room and the conversation was heading pretty much to the idea that to prohibit swearing was a form of legalism. Some even stated that swearing showed people that you were a Christian who could relate to "normal" people. (My contention is that Christianity is what is normal, that the world is "abnormal.")
However, I was pleasantly encouraged by a gentleman named "Mason Calloway" who pretty much put an end to the conversation. And....Mason did it in a godly fashion. Mason said that I could reprint his statement here, unedited, written exactly as he posted:
I would be wary of using profanity (speaking of good things as if they are not good) or cursing (expressing the desire that something be damned), even in informal contexts. For cursing, the Christian should not allow himself to become angry enough to want to damn something. And "damn" need not be literal. When you hit your thumb with a hammer, whatever comes out of your mouth, whether G**Dammit, F*ck, or something else, the emotion you're expressing is "oh this thing that just happened can go right straight to hell." We should take what we are given, even suffering, in stride. And certainly, we should never damn people or creation. (Not that our words have power to do so, but the Christian should not entertain the desire for such to be the case).
And in cases of profanity, the goal should be to always show proper reverence for the good. We don't talk about the intimate moments with our wives in the street because the intimacy of that relationship is a holy thing. Likewise the sexual act in general should not be debased with crass euphemism. In short, we should act like the nobility and priests that we are, our words are not to be worthless.
And now, story time. I was working on a carpentry project with my church and it happened that I was the only person there under 50. The other 5 or so men there were the elders of our church (currently serving and off-rotation). It was a delight to be with these men, in part because they had been friends for years. They had the same collection of stories and inside jokes which any group of friends have. It was a joy to laugh with them. But, even when discussion strayed to their wives, their demeanor, no matter how much we were laughing, was one of respect.
The next day it was just me and two other elders at the work site. I was outside cutting boards (like a proper man) while the two elders were inside nailing a frame together. In a moment of ill attention, one of the elders shot the other in the hand with the nail gun they were using. Two inches of the nail sank into his palm down toward his wrist. The shot elder didn't cuss, didn't even shout. He pulled the nail out of his hand, finished hammering up the frame, and put a bandaid on it once they were done with the last couple of nails.
If that doesn't sound like a more manly and impressive way to handle pain than shouting out S**t, I don't know what could.