Bite
Your Tongue
James 3:1-12 (+ assorted proverbs)
September 30, 2018
Not many of you should become teachers, my brothers and sisters, for you know that we who teach will be judged with greater strictness. For all of us make many mistakes. Anyone who makes no mistakes in speaking is perfect, able to keep the whole body in check with a bridle. If we put bits into the mouths of horses to make them obey us, we guide their whole bodies. Or look at ships: though they are so large that it takes strong winds to drive them, yet they are guided by a very small rudder wherever the will of the pilot directs. So also the tongue is a small member, yet it boasts of great exploits. How great a forest is set ablaze by a small fire! And the tongue is a fire. The tongue is placed among our members as a world of iniquity; it stains the whole body, sets on fire the cycle of nature, and is itself set on fire by hell. For every species of beast and bird, of reptile and sea creature, can be tamed and has been tamed by the human species, but no one can tame the tongue—a restless evil, full of deadly poison. With it we bless the Lord and Father, and with it we curse those who are made in the likeness of God. From the same mouth come blessing and cursing. My brothers and sisters, this ought not to be so. Does a spring pour forth from the same opening both fresh and brackish water? Can a fig tree, my brothers and sisters, yield olives, or a grapevine figs? No more can salt water yield fresh
When I was a student preparing the ministry, I was home one weekend. My pastor read these words from the letter of James, then he leaned over the pulpit and addressed me by name. “Watch out, Bill,” he said. “James is talking about you and me, preachers as well as teachers. We work with words, we traffic with words, we get in trouble with words.” It was a dire warning, and it was true.
“Not many of you should be teachers,” says James. He is not speaking about standing up in front of a class or working through a curriculum. His concern is public speech, particularly within the community of the church. Those who stand up in front of a congregation must watch what they say, because they will be “judged with a greater strictness.” And you thought it was easy for us to find worship leaders on Sunday mornings.
The number one fear of most people is public speaking, standing up, looking at a group of people, opening the mouth, and saying something. This is a tough thing to do. For some folks, it’s downright terrifying, even if the words are already scripted. And it’s true, even for the few of us who speak for a living.
It reminds me of those old black and white pictures of Iroquois Indians working construction and walking the high beams of skyscrapers. Anybody remember those? Apparently they had no fear of heights, or if they did, they could push the fear out of their minds. I think if they ever stop and thought about the risky venture of what they were doing, they would have stopped in their tracks. Public speaking can be like that.
Sometimes it just happens. Open the mouth, the wrong thing comes out like a belch. Of all the verbal mistakes I’ve made, the biggest happened at my baby sister’s wedding. I stood before her in her beautiful white dress. He was in a tuxedo, his brow glistening with anxiety. They wanted me to preach, so I read the text, from the third chapter of Colossians: “Clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, and patience…”
The words originated in a baptismal sermon, I pointed out. In the early church, the new Christians gathered at the river to be baptized. They shed their old garments, stepped into the water, were baptized, then stepped out of the river to be adorned with a white robe, representing how they cast off old habits and took on the new life. “So,” I said to them, “as nice as this gown and tuxedo are, I bet you can’t wait to get out of these clothes.”
There was a snicker over here, a guffaw over there, and suddenly, like a wave, a ripple of laughter. She began to shake, he turned fire-engine red, and I couldn’t understand it. I looked at her and mouthed the words, “What did I say?” She said, in a voice loud enough for others to hear, “You just told us to get naked, in the middle of our wedding.” With that, the sanctuary erupted. My throat froze up. I forgot the rest of what I was going to say, and didn’t dare say it any way. My mother was glaring at me, my father was smirking. So much for the Kodachrome moment.
“All of us make many mistakes when we speak,” says the letter of James. All of us! That doesn’t let us off the hook. That’s not an excuse. It is a description. And it is well rooted in the wisdom tradition of the scriptures.
As we heard from the selection of Proverbs, the human tongue is deceitful, evil, malicious, slanderous, false, poisonous as a serpent, full of lies, crafty, proud, mischievous, naughty, perverse, backbiting, and flattering. There is also the possibility that the tongue an be kind, melodious, fair, just, wise, wholesome, and righteous.
My mother-in-law Loraine passed away gently on Wednesday morning. Yesterday, as we remembered her at her funeral, I leaned forward when the pastor read a line from the final chapter of Proverbs: “She opens her mouth with wisdom, and the teaching of kindness is on her tongue (Proverbs 31: 26).” It was an apt description.
And then, by contrast, I watched the highlights of Thursday’s Supreme Court hearing. I found myself hungering for wise words and the “teaching of kindness.”
We know what is at stake with our words. James looks out the window at a raging forest fire. It cannot be contained. The fire destroys. The conflagration feeds on itself and becomes all-consuming. James makes no bones about this: “The tongue is a fire,” he writes, “and it is set on fire by hell. How great is the damage created by the human tongue!” Destruction creates even more destruction.
He even goes far enough to say that the human mouth cannot be tamed. Horses have their bridles, to direct them where to go. “But no one can tame the tongue,” says James. “It is a restless evil, full of deadly poison.” Sounds
pretty grim, doesn’t it?
James is aware of the contradiction. “Out of the same mouth comes blessing and cursing; with the tongue, we bless our God and Father, and with the tongue, we curse those who are made in the image of God.” That’s the paradox of having a voice. It can go either way. As followers of Jesus, the continuing question is how we want it to go.
Now some would say, let’s watch our words, swallow our anger, and bite our tongues. James actually begins that way, declaring, “If you are perfect, you can guide your tongue.” But it’s also pretty clear that he doesn’t know any perfect people. Neither do we.
A psychologist reflected on some recent public words. The context is not important, because it’s applicable to any number of situations. She quoted Sigmund Freud, who said somewhere that, when somebody is caught in a lie, or being exposed as a fraud, a dysfunctional person of low character will always respond to direct questions with an emotional outburst to avoid responsibility and place themselves as the victim.
“Johnny, did you eat my cookies?” Mom, it wasn’t me.
“Johnny, there are crumbs on your lips.” Mom, you always make cookies for my sister and never for me.
“Johnny, why are you lying?” Mom, you are so unfair.
And with those words, Johnny is ready to hold public office.
James gives his warning: “Not many of you should become teachers, my brothers and sisters, for you know that we who teach will be judged with greater strictness. For all of us make many mistakes.” Do
you see what’s at stake? It’s more than a mistake. It is the fraying of public
trust. And if you cannot trust somebody’s words, you cannot trust their hearts,
because words reveal what is inside us. They reveal whether we can be trusted.
Make a mistake? Confess it, admit it, request forgiveness, make amends. That is Christian Ethics 101. We can move ahead with confession and forgiveness. It may take some hard, honest work, but we can move ahead. But
if you lie, distort, deceive, misdirect, and blame somebody else? Do those
things and you will be thrown out of the Garden of Eden. It’s that simple, and
it’s that tragic.
What James is pushing us toward is the honest life, the integrated life, the life of everyday holy wisdom. It comes from above, from the dominion of God. And there are ways to welcome the gift and cultivate the garden of God’s peace. I
like what James teaches in chapter 2: “You must understand this, my beloved:
let everyone be quick to listen, slow to speak, slow to anger; for your anger
does not produce God’s righteousness. Therefor rid yourselves of all sordidness
and rank growth of wickedness, and welcome with meekness the implanted word
that has the power to save your souls.” (2:19-20)
I like that, particularly the phrase, “the implanted word that has the power to save your souls.” What word is that? It is the Word of God. If you have heard God speak, the Word is planted somewhere in you. It’s like a seed with the potential to bear abundant fruit. And the garden must be weeded, carefully removing the distractions and distortions of all the weeds. With time, patience, and faithfulness, the seed can grow. This
careful gardening of the soul is one way to grow as a human being and a follower
of Jesus.
Another way is to fill ourselves with words that build up and brighten. Some years ago, the writer Kathleen Norris wrote about her struggles with depression. It would descend on her like a dark angel, she said, as if she was invaded by a shadow that grew when she wasn’t looking. Medication helped provide some balance. So did talking with a therapist. By
far, the greatest medicine came in reciting words that didn’t originate with
her.
She found the Psalms in scripture, or rather, the Psalms found her. She would chew on them, small bites, sometimes chewing on a phrase for hours or days. “Why are you downcast, O my soul? Hope in the Lord.” The dark angel of depression tried to chase the psalms away, but as she stayed with the words from God, they grew inside her. As she stayed with them, they grew larger – and the demon drifted away.
We are not talking about a magic potion here, or some empty incantation, but dwelling in the Word that God speaks onto the written page. I ponder this sometimes. What if all of us spent more time with the Bible, not merely to understand it, but to let it in? What if we replaced all the negative words, the terrible words, with words about redemption, hope, and grace? What if we chased away all the words of the devil with the Word-made-flesh, Jesus Christ?
So, surely, we can all watch what we say, and listen before we speak. The world would be a better place if more people did that. But
God’s mission is even greater. Each day, we are invited to welcome the Christ
that he sends, the redeemer who is known as the One who speaks truth and grace.
James 3:1-12 (+ assorted proverbs)
September 30, 2018
Not many of you should become teachers, my brothers and sisters, for you know that we who teach will be judged with greater strictness. For all of us make many mistakes. Anyone who makes no mistakes in speaking is perfect, able to keep the whole body in check with a bridle. If we put bits into the mouths of horses to make them obey us, we guide their whole bodies. Or look at ships: though they are so large that it takes strong winds to drive them, yet they are guided by a very small rudder wherever the will of the pilot directs. So also the tongue is a small member, yet it boasts of great exploits. How great a forest is set ablaze by a small fire! And the tongue is a fire. The tongue is placed among our members as a world of iniquity; it stains the whole body, sets on fire the cycle of nature, and is itself set on fire by hell. For every species of beast and bird, of reptile and sea creature, can be tamed and has been tamed by the human species, but no one can tame the tongue—a restless evil, full of deadly poison. With it we bless the Lord and Father, and with it we curse those who are made in the likeness of God. From the same mouth come blessing and cursing. My brothers and sisters, this ought not to be so. Does a spring pour forth from the same opening both fresh and brackish water? Can a fig tree, my brothers and sisters, yield olives, or a grapevine figs? No more can salt water yield fresh
When I was a student preparing the ministry, I was home one weekend. My pastor read these words from the letter of James, then he leaned over the pulpit and addressed me by name. “Watch out, Bill,” he said. “James is talking about you and me, preachers as well as teachers. We work with words, we traffic with words, we get in trouble with words.” It was a dire warning, and it was true.
“Not many of you should be teachers,” says James. He is not speaking about standing up in front of a class or working through a curriculum. His concern is public speech, particularly within the community of the church. Those who stand up in front of a congregation must watch what they say, because they will be “judged with a greater strictness.” And you thought it was easy for us to find worship leaders on Sunday mornings.
The number one fear of most people is public speaking, standing up, looking at a group of people, opening the mouth, and saying something. This is a tough thing to do. For some folks, it’s downright terrifying, even if the words are already scripted. And it’s true, even for the few of us who speak for a living.
It reminds me of those old black and white pictures of Iroquois Indians working construction and walking the high beams of skyscrapers. Anybody remember those? Apparently they had no fear of heights, or if they did, they could push the fear out of their minds. I think if they ever stop and thought about the risky venture of what they were doing, they would have stopped in their tracks. Public speaking can be like that.
Sometimes it just happens. Open the mouth, the wrong thing comes out like a belch. Of all the verbal mistakes I’ve made, the biggest happened at my baby sister’s wedding. I stood before her in her beautiful white dress. He was in a tuxedo, his brow glistening with anxiety. They wanted me to preach, so I read the text, from the third chapter of Colossians: “Clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, and patience…”
The words originated in a baptismal sermon, I pointed out. In the early church, the new Christians gathered at the river to be baptized. They shed their old garments, stepped into the water, were baptized, then stepped out of the river to be adorned with a white robe, representing how they cast off old habits and took on the new life. “So,” I said to them, “as nice as this gown and tuxedo are, I bet you can’t wait to get out of these clothes.”
There was a snicker over here, a guffaw over there, and suddenly, like a wave, a ripple of laughter. She began to shake, he turned fire-engine red, and I couldn’t understand it. I looked at her and mouthed the words, “What did I say?” She said, in a voice loud enough for others to hear, “You just told us to get naked, in the middle of our wedding.” With that, the sanctuary erupted. My throat froze up. I forgot the rest of what I was going to say, and didn’t dare say it any way. My mother was glaring at me, my father was smirking. So much for the Kodachrome moment.
“All of us make many mistakes when we speak,” says the letter of James. All of us! That doesn’t let us off the hook. That’s not an excuse. It is a description. And it is well rooted in the wisdom tradition of the scriptures.
As we heard from the selection of Proverbs, the human tongue is deceitful, evil, malicious, slanderous, false, poisonous as a serpent, full of lies, crafty, proud, mischievous, naughty, perverse, backbiting, and flattering. There is also the possibility that the tongue an be kind, melodious, fair, just, wise, wholesome, and righteous.
My mother-in-law Loraine passed away gently on Wednesday morning. Yesterday, as we remembered her at her funeral, I leaned forward when the pastor read a line from the final chapter of Proverbs: “She opens her mouth with wisdom, and the teaching of kindness is on her tongue (Proverbs 31: 26).” It was an apt description.
And then, by contrast, I watched the highlights of Thursday’s Supreme Court hearing. I found myself hungering for wise words and the “teaching of kindness.”
We know what is at stake with our words. James looks out the window at a raging forest fire. It cannot be contained. The fire destroys. The conflagration feeds on itself and becomes all-consuming. James makes no bones about this: “The tongue is a fire,” he writes, “and it is set on fire by hell. How great is the damage created by the human tongue!” Destruction creates even more destruction.
He even goes far enough to say that the human mouth cannot be tamed. Horses have their bridles, to direct them where to go. “But no one can tame the tongue,” says James. “It is a restless evil, full of deadly poison.”
James is aware of the contradiction. “Out of the same mouth comes blessing and cursing; with the tongue, we bless our God and Father, and with the tongue, we curse those who are made in the image of God.” That’s the paradox of having a voice. It can go either way. As followers of Jesus, the continuing question is how we want it to go.
Now some would say, let’s watch our words, swallow our anger, and bite our tongues. James actually begins that way, declaring, “If you are perfect, you can guide your tongue.” But it’s also pretty clear that he doesn’t know any perfect people. Neither do we.
A psychologist reflected on some recent public words. The context is not important, because it’s applicable to any number of situations. She quoted Sigmund Freud, who said somewhere that, when somebody is caught in a lie, or being exposed as a fraud, a dysfunctional person of low character will always respond to direct questions with an emotional outburst to avoid responsibility and place themselves as the victim.
“Johnny, did you eat my cookies?” Mom, it wasn’t me.
“Johnny, there are crumbs on your lips.” Mom, you always make cookies for my sister and never for me.
“Johnny, why are you lying?” Mom, you are so unfair.
And with those words, Johnny is ready to hold public office.
James gives his warning: “Not many of you should become teachers, my brothers and sisters, for you know that we who teach will be judged with greater strictness. For all of us make many mistakes.”
Make a mistake? Confess it, admit it, request forgiveness, make amends. That is Christian Ethics 101. We can move ahead with confession and forgiveness. It may take some hard, honest work, but we can move ahead.
What James is pushing us toward is the honest life, the integrated life, the life of everyday holy wisdom. It comes from above, from the dominion of God. And there are ways to welcome the gift and cultivate the garden of God’s peace.
I like that, particularly the phrase, “the implanted word that has the power to save your souls.” What word is that? It is the Word of God. If you have heard God speak, the Word is planted somewhere in you. It’s like a seed with the potential to bear abundant fruit. And the garden must be weeded, carefully removing the distractions and distortions of all the weeds. With time, patience, and faithfulness, the seed can grow.
Another way is to fill ourselves with words that build up and brighten. Some years ago, the writer Kathleen Norris wrote about her struggles with depression. It would descend on her like a dark angel, she said, as if she was invaded by a shadow that grew when she wasn’t looking. Medication helped provide some balance. So did talking with a therapist.
She found the Psalms in scripture, or rather, the Psalms found her. She would chew on them, small bites, sometimes chewing on a phrase for hours or days. “Why are you downcast, O my soul? Hope in the Lord.” The dark angel of depression tried to chase the psalms away, but as she stayed with the words from God, they grew inside her. As she stayed with them, they grew larger – and the demon drifted away.
We are not talking about a magic potion here, or some empty incantation, but dwelling in the Word that God speaks onto the written page. I ponder this sometimes. What if all of us spent more time with the Bible, not merely to understand it, but to let it in? What if we replaced all the negative words, the terrible words, with words about redemption, hope, and grace? What if we chased away all the words of the devil with the Word-made-flesh, Jesus Christ?
So, surely, we can all watch what we say, and listen before we speak. The world would be a better place if more people did that.
(c) William G. Carter. All rights reserved.
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