It’s kind of a well-known problem – if the only tool you’ve got is a hammer, any problem will start to look like a nail to you.
And if the only tool you’ve got is the Warhammer of Zillyhoo, any problem will start to look…flat, very flat, once you’re through with it. >_>
As for the general appropriateness, I’m not really capable of answering the professor’s question…in the context of a fantasy world, it’s certainly acceptable for a cleric to be using a blunt weapon, like a warhammer, just as much as it is for a Barbarian. But I’ve never been able to find out whether that’s based on historical precedent, considerations of game balance, or shortcomings in Gary Gygax’s understanding of theology. For what’s it worth, there were a few notable clergymen using (or carrying) blunt weapons in combat, including Bishop Odo of Bayeux, Eustace the Monk, and Pope Julius II.
Whether a priest is supposed to bring the hammer down is another question that’s beyond my paygrade, but I’ll venture a cautious thumbs up. It usually worked for Don Camillo, after all, and those movies are where I got a good deal of my knowledge about the Catholic Church from:
Beyond the question of appropriateness, of course, there are practical considerations…and, in that regard, there seem to be some real drawbacks to opening your satchel of exorcism equipment by brutally flattening it. And it’s not only the flatness of the resulting joke…
By dramatic convention, the commission of this sort of mistake requires another cast-member to make a futile, last-second effort at stopping the proceedings. I selected Biff for that task…she’s got a wholly different outlook on life now, after all, and looking back upon her earlier life with some distance should have taught her a thing or two about ill-considered applications of brute force to problems.
More on Thurs…uh, Monday.