(Preached on Sunday, September 13, 2009)
This is scary: You can tame a tiger, but you can’t tame a tongue – it’s never been done. The tongue runs wild, a wanton killer. -James 3:7-8
A farmer’s wife had spread a slanderous story about her pastor all through the village. Soon the whole countryside had heard it. Sometime later the woman became very sick and confessed the story was untrue. After her recovery she came to the pastor and begged his pardon. The old pastor said, “Of course I will gladly pardon you if you will comply with a wish of mine.” “Gladly,” replied the woman, eager to relieve her guilt. “Go home, kill a black hen, pluck the feathers, and put them in a basket and bring them here.” In half an hour she was back. “Now,” said the pastor, “go through the village and at each street corner scatter a few of these feathers. Take the remaining ones to the top of the bell tower and scatter them to the winds, then return.” She did so. “Now, go through the village and gather the feathers again, and see that not one is missing.” The woman looked at the pastor in astonishment and said, “Why, that is impossible! The wind has scattered them over the fields everywhere!” “And so,” said the pastor, “while I forgive you gladly, do not forget that you can never undo the damage your untrue words have done to me.”
As the author of James knew so well, the human tongue is powerful and mighty. It can be used for great good or for great harm. In a flurry of mixed metaphors, with references to horses, fire, and wild animals, the writer of this letter warns of all the dangers and potential for evil of an unbridled tongue. Indeed language is important. The reminder in verse 10 that blessing and cursing come from the same mouth makes it clear that what is said makes a difference. The tongue can move people to the highest heights of passion, beauty, and inspiration. At the same time, the tongue can stain the whole body, and bring tremendous, sometimes irreparable, harm.
One evening a father was working in his study, fighting a deadline, when his eight-year-old daughter bounced into the room, asking a nonstop series of questions about some television program. He turned to her and told her to be quiet because he was trying to work. She immediately froze where she was standing and her blue eyes filled with tears as she left the room. His tongue was sharp and biting as he scolded her. Without thinking he had misused his tongue and brought great pain to his little daughter’s heart. He was mortified as he watched her leave the room crying and he immediately realized what he had done. He asked God’s forgiveness and then he went to her and asked her to forgive him and took some time to answer her questions.
It is so easy for us to slip up with our tongues. As that father discovered, it requires constant vigilance on our part. Representative Wilson from South Carolina demonstrated this week how easy it is for one’s tongue to get the better of one when he blurted out his thoughts during President Obama’s speech to congress. His breech of decorum brought swift rebuke from his Republican colleagues and embarrassment to his constituents. The ability of the human tongue to produce goodness and evil, blessing and curse, from the same source, makes human beings unique. In nature, that capacity for both good and evil from the same source us unmatched. As our author reminds us, a spring either brings forth good water or brackish water, but cannot produce both. This unique ability of the human mouth to produce goodness and evil carries with it a tremendous responsibility.
It is no wonder that this passage begins with a warning to its readers that they ought not to strive to be teachers. Now, I realize that is a rather disquieting statement to examine as we are about to begin a new season of Christian education in the church and we are actively recruiting teachers for our classes. I am sure that Saralee and the Board of Christian Education probably wish I had chosen a different scripture text for this morning’s worship. So let me say that I think to some extent the author here is given to hyperbole. Also, let me remind us that in some capacity we are all teachers. Whether it is through speaking about, or quietly living out, our faith among family, friends, and the church, we teach by everything we do.
Some of us teach formally in classroom settings, sharing with students in the journey of discovery. But all of us teach by the way we live our lives. The way we come to worship and engage in that activity during this one hour each week, teaches those around us how to worship. Our faithful participation, with heart and soul, in the practice of worship – by singing the songs with emotion and soul, by offering prayers with intensity, by listening with attentiveness, by faithfully, even sacrificially, bringing an offering of money to God, teaches others around us how to demonstrate love and devotion for God. The way we treat each person we meet, when we arrive here at church, at our jobs, or at school, or the various encounters we have with people in the community during the week, teaches others about the love of God and how God welcomes and accepts each person. Even the way we eat our meals, whether we pause to return thanks or not; the way we treat our pets or other animals we encounter; the way we care for our yards and the plants and trees and flowers, all these actions teach about our sense of God as Creator and our relationship to the creation. The truth is, we cannot NOT teach. Everything we do, teaches. Every one of us is a teacher. So this is not just a directive for those who assume the formal task of teaching and preaching in the church. It also is guidance for all of us.
So, in the final analysis, what does this passage say to us? Should we steer away from teaching or even speaking? No. First of all I cannot do that, for I have accepted the calling and the role and responsibility as a preacher and teacher of the gospel. I, for one, have to speak. Second, as I already illustrated, all of us are teachers, if not by word, most certainly by deed – by the way we live our lives. So we, too, really do not have the option to not teach, and by extension, to not speak.
What we need to do is first and foremost is remember that we are all learners, as well. We teach one another by what we say and do. We also learn from one another all the time. Therefore, we need to remember, even those of us called to the formal responsibilities of teaching and preaching, to still our tongues from time to time and let God open our ears. Even the author of this passage is pointing us in this direction. More than anything, the hyperbole of this passage suggests to us how impossible it is for us to harness our tongues by sheer force of will. We cannot do it, he says. But there is One who can.
The prophet Isaiah, for one, suggests some guidance on this issue in Chapter 50: 4: “The Lord God has given me the tongue of a teacher, that I may know how to sustain the weary with a word. Morning by morning he wakens – wakens my ear to listen as those who are taught.” The prophet is pointing us toward a proper relation between tongue and ear, between our words and their source. To have the tongue of a teacher, to have the ability to sustain the weary with a word, one’s ear must be open to listen both for the word of comfort from the word of God and for the needs of the weary ones. Without hearing both words, we will not be able to speak and comfort and bring teaching that uplifts and strengthens.
As we think about the powerful affect of our words, both to hurt and to heal, let us also remember the gift of listening attentively to one another. Often we feel that we must say something profound in response to the pain or need of another. But by listening attentively, and being with another person in a strong, quiet, supportive manner, we can give tremendous comfort and strength. Such attentive listening also teaches very powerfully about the loving attentiveness of God. Usually, that is the most powerful lesson we can share. It is also the most powerful lesson we can learn.
The more we invite God’s Spirit to enter us and guide us in our speaking and our being, the more progress we will make in taming the untamable tongue. Alone, we are usually not well poised. But with God’s Spirit, with God’s holy Wisdom, with the presence of Christ the teacher leading us, guiding us, encouraging us, we have a chance to say the right thing. In short, we can be tamed. Left to ourselves, far too often, it’s not a pretty sight.