I have a friend who was an altar boy in a Roman Catholic church.  He was never molested by a priest.  His nickname was briefly “Tater-Tot.”  I find that to be a great nickname.

This friend flinched when he saw a record album by Greg Kenrick in the Gabby collection of Christian albums entitled He Touched Me.  A young boy saying “He Touched Me” is open to interpretation as an accusation of sexual molestation.

It could be something not intended by the speaker.

Or even something Oh So Much worse to the Evangelical mind:

The gospel hymn “He Touched Me” is a popular one.   Gospel song writer and performer Bill Gaither wrote it in 1963.  The premise is simple – the singer has been touched by the hand of Jesus.

He touched me, Oh He touched me,
And oh the joy that floods my soul!
Something happened and now I know,
He touched me and made me whole.

A number of gospel albums have been released with that name.  I wonder if they will continue to run with it, or will they run from it?

And sheet music:

It is the title that was chosen for an album of gospel music as performed by Elvis.

The meaning of words changes over years.  Let’s take “gay.”  Pretty big change.  Same thing for phrases.  After high-profile incidents with Joe Barron of the Prestonwood Baptist Church, Tony Alamo of Tony Alamo Christian Ministries, and Wayne Bent/Michael Travesser of Lord Our Righteousness Church, one might think that “He Touched Me” would be toxic, or at least to-be avoided.  Just sayin’.

I am not done here.  There are other religious albums with “touch” in the title, again a poor choice of word if you ask me.

My goodness – what a looking of touching and feeling.   We aren’t done with sexual innuendo / double meanings in Christian album covers.  A couple of these approach x-rated, at least to the jaundiced mind to which the world is yellow:

And, second-to-lastly, at least for the moment, the “come” and “coming” album titles.  Lenny Bruce had a riff on “to come” that got him in trouble.

To is a preposition. 
To is a preposition. 
Come is a verb. 
To is a preposition. 
Come is a verb. 
To is a preposition. 
Come is a verb, the verb intransitive. 
To come. 
To come. 
I’ve heard these two words my whole adult life, and as a kid when I thought I was sleeping. 
To come. 
To come. 
It’s been like a big drum solo. 
Did you come? 
Did you come? 
Good. 
Did you come good? 
Did you come good? 
Did you come good? 
Did you come good? 
Did you come good? 
Did you come good? 
Did you come good? 
I come better with you, sweetheart, than with anybody in the whole goddamn world. 
I really came so good and I came so good ’cause I love you. 
I really came so good. 
I come better with you, sweetheart, than anyone in the whole world. 
I really came so good. 
So good. 
But don’t come in me. 
Don’t come in me. 
Don’t come in me 
Don’t come in me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me. 
Don’t come in me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me. 
Don’t come in me. 
Don’t come…. in me…in me in me. 
Don’t come in me, in me….in me. 
I can’t come. 
‘Cause you don’t love me–that’s why you can’t come. 
I can’t come. 
I love you, I just can’t come; that’s my hang-up. 
I can’t come when I’m loaded, all right? 
‘Cause you don’t love me. 
Just what the hell is the matter with you-what has that got to do with loving? I just can’t come that’s all. 
Now if anyone is this room or the world finds those two words decadent, obscene, immoral, amoral, asexual– the words “to come” really make you feel uncomfortable–if you think I’m rank for saying it to you, you the beholder think it’s rank for listening to it, you probably can’t come. And then you’re of no use, because that’s the purpose of life, to re-create it.

We are clearly back in the territory of dirty minds, but these record album titles cannot be ignored:

Some might find this just a tad puerile.  For me, though, it is not simply the double entendre.   It is the setting, the context.  Wholesome Christian music meets sexual pun.  Call it puerile if you must.  I am amused.

This final album demands listening, no?

My friend was cleansing himself from the wholesome faces of these album covers (“Any one of those creeps on the album covers comes down the street, I cross the street and turn around” he says) with a small dose of the best known antidote.

He knows the friend who pointed out the whole deal with “He Touched Me.”  He thinks that my former-altar-boy friend is a “righteous dude.”  But what does he think of all this album cover art?