We’ve been taking a journey these past several weeks through the New Testament letter of James. This letter has great appeal to me because it is, if nothing else, a book on practical, down-to-earth Christianity.
James is small on “talking the faith”, but big on “walking the faith”. In a sense, James teaches us how to be Christians without being religious nutjobs. And so far, we’ve learned some excellent ways to practice the Christian faith in our ordinary everyday lives. How do you live like a Christian? Well, James tells us to be generous givers of ourselves and our resources. He tells us to learn to listen to people. James is also quite adamant that we Christians are to take responsibility for taking care of widows and orphans and others who are made vulnerable by life’s tragedies.
And all of these things can be done by any one of us. You don’t have to be a Mother Theresa. You don’t have to get a seminary education. You don’t have to be young enough, old enough, or smart enough. These practices are all within our grasp. But the key ingredient is a faith that believes Jesus can use us through these behaviors to reach others with grace, and make the world a better place.
And so today, we move on to the third chapter of James where we learn another crucial Christian skill. But first, let me tell you about Winston.
I received in the mail this week a wonderful card memorializing the life of a family dog. His name was Winston, and the photograph on the card revealed him to be a happy-looking Schnauzer, with great big dark eyes, ears turned up to listen, with his tongue just slightly sticking out of his mouth when he smiled. Winston was born on January 22, 1987 and passed away on August 4th, in his thirteenth year of life – though in dog years, Winston was a ripe old 91. His family, of course, is brokenhearted at his passing because, at some point, family pets seem to stop being family pets. They become full-fledged members of the family. And when they die, it hurts terribly.
Isn’t it amazing how a dog, or a cat, or some other member of the animal kingdom can come into our lives and win our hearts! They love us unconditionally. When we come home, they treat us like returning heroes. Some pets – like cats – bring home gifts to us. Mice. Dead birds. Some pets can sense when things are not well with us. And they cuddle up beside us, and rest their head on our lap as if to administer some healing balm.
You can talk to pets. Confess your deepest secrets. Express your greatest fears. And they will sit there, and – like a good friend – simply listen.
I can understand why Winston’s family is so devastated by his passing.
His love for them and to them was powerful! He made their lives better!
And here’s the miracle.
Winston somehow changed their lives for the better without ever saying a single word!
Now, the author of the letter of James never knew Winston the Schnauzer, but he and Winston were sure operating out of the same playbook. Both lived lives that seemed to have a deep understanding that God’s love is often delivered in its most pure and potent form when it is administered without the accompaniment of words.
So here’s what James tells us in the third chapter. Our next skill to develop in the school for practical Christianity is this:
Learn to keep your mouth shut.
Obviously, James is not a big fan of the verbal arts. He complains that too many Christians talk the talk, but don’t walk the walk. He identifies as one of the major problems in the New Testament church the tendency of religious people to speak without thinking. And he describes how destructive this can be – setting fires in peoples’ lives that can’t be put out, injecting poison into people’s psyche that can affect them forever, causing the Good News to become bad news, and converting the living streams of heaven into brackish water.
James says, “We human beings have learned how to tame the wildest of the wild beasts, but no one can tame the tongue.”
So stop talking so much. Watch your tongue. That’s a crucial Christian skill.
So James begins by speaking to Christians who think of themselves as teachers – possessing some knowledge about God or life that they feel called to inflict on – I mean – share with others. And the problem is that most of us don’t really know very much about God. Look at the friends of Job who try to explain his terrible suffering by saying that he must have done something wrong to cause it. And lots of people believe that, you know. That our suffering is God’s response to some sin we’ve committed. And they go around teaching that. Some say AIDS was God’s judgment against homosexuals. Cancer is God’s judgment for something you did. Wealth is a sign of God’s blessing while poverty is a sign of some deficiency in your life. Why, even back in Jesus’ day, the religious leaders carelessly threw around words that set people against God, and God against people. Out of ignorance, they once asked Jesus about a particular man “What caused this man’s blindness? His own sin, or his parents?” And the question itself reveals how little they understood God.
So Jesus tells the religious leaders they’re talking about stuff they know nothing about. Back in the book of Job, God confronts those who think they can explain suffering by confronting their ignorance. God asks, “Where were you-all when I laid the foundations of the earth?”
You see, one of the problems James identifies among Christians is that we think we know more than we do. And when we indiscriminately open our mouths and throw that stuff around in God’s name, the consequences are often devastating to people, and destructive to society, and defamatory to God.
So James tells us to be careful about what we teach. We will be strictly judged and held accountable for the things we represent about God. So the best thing we can do is to learn the fine art of closing our mouths. But not in the sense of never speaking or teaching again. I think it would be fair to say that James just wants us to limit our teaching to what we ourselves know for sure.
It was the great theologian Karl Barth who was once asked what was the greatest theological truth he knew. In a very famous reply, Barth answered, “Jesus loves me, this I know, for the Bible tells me so.”
God loves human beings. God cares about our needs. God identifies with our suffering. God is at work redeeming the world, and creating a new kingdom in which people will live in peace, and abundance, and joy.
There are some things we know about God that we need to share both in word and deed.
But beyond that, watch your tongue!
And then James speaks to us not about what we teach, but about how we speak to others.
Now I know that some of us sort of pride ourselves on the fact that we are straight talkers. We tell it like it is. A woman once shared with John Wesley that she believed her God-given talent was the gift of speaking her mind. Wesley told her that was a talent God wouldn’t mind her burying in the ground!
Why? Well, James tells us a great truth. The tongue is a tiny muscle that can do tremendous harm to the deepest parts of people’s souls. It can produce words that push people so far away from God that it will take years for God to bring them back. It can result in terrible damage downstream to a person’s family, or church, or village, or world. The tongue, James says, is a raging fire, that can set the world ablaze with just one thoughtless word.
And so we Christians need to watch our tongues!
Now, I’m not particularly good at this skill, although there have been times in my life when grace got the better part of me and I learned that what James is saying is very true.
Early in my ministry, I returned home from vacation. That was the summer I grew my beard which, in those days, was not – ah, blond – like it is today, but rather dark brown. I was pretty proud of the achievement, and looked forward to showing it off at church that Sunday. Boy, was I wrong!
That beard on my face caused quite a bit of excitement, and you know how people are. Some just had to make sure I knew just how awful they thought it was. After all, when you see something you don’t like, how much better the experience when you share it with others! So there were a number of things said about my precious beard, all of which hurt my feelings. And when my feelings get hurt, I find myself thinking of ways to lash out. I was ready to explode.
Just about that time, one of the grand old matriarchs of the church came through the door. She took one look at me – with my new brown beard – and came hobbling on her cane in my direction.
“Oh, Marty!” she moaned, “What have you done to yourself? Why, that beard makes you look…like a MONKEY!”
And good morning to you, too!
And all at once, things began to detonate inside me. Now, my first reaction was to punch old Gladys right in the nose. Fortunately, I put down that urge. However, I am a man of words, and so I began to put some of those together in my mind. Words that would put Gladys back in her place. And Gladys had some deficits.
There were the fifteen pounds of pancake make-up she wore on her face. “Gee, Gladys, I love your make-up. What did you do, change funeral homes?”
Or, I could say, “Gee, Gladys, is blue your NATURAL hair color?”
Or, I might sniff the air and say, “Gee, Gladys, smells like they must have LOWERED the price of Desert Flower perfume.”
And, in the intensity of my own inner turmoil, I found myself experiencing one of those moments when it seems like everything is in slow-motion. And as these destructive words formed on my lips, some troubling thoughts shot through my mind. You have some responsibility for this woman’s soul. You’ve been studying James while on vacation. You can’t do this! Remember what he said about watching your tongue?
And as I started to say, “Gee, thanks, Gladys. And you…” Something happened. “And you” did not connect to the make-up, or the hair color, or the cheap perfume. Instead, I found myself boldly saying, “Gladys…YOU…LOOK…MAHVELOUS!!! NOW COME HERE AND GIMME A SMOOCH!”
And there, in the vestibule of the old First Congregational Church, I planted one right on ol’ Gladys’ lips. And Gladys giggled.
“Oh Marty,” Gladys laughed, “your beard even tickles!”
Well, that may have been the only time that I sort of incorporated James 3:1-12 into my life. But it can’t be the last. The truth of the matter is that I need to learn to watch my tongue – because if I don’t, I can literally destroy peoples’ lives, send ugly ripples out to their families, and cast a sorry shadow over the beauty of life. I can, in one word, undo in another person’s life everything it has taken God a lifetime to accomplish.
I know that you are probably much better at this than I am, but nonetheless, together we need to make two commitments today.
When you find yourself in situations where you can speak to others about God, watch your tongue! Limit yourself to sharing about God’s love for the world, and his care for people. Let God take care of explaining the mysteries of suffering, the rendering of judgment, the outworking of history. Like St. Paul, make a commitment to know nothing more than Christ crucified. Jesus loves us, this we know, for the Bible tells us so. If you must speak, speak about that. Better yet, don’t talk about it. Live it!!
And second, make a commitment today to discipline your tongue. James says the tongue can do two things. It can bless, and it can curse. It can help, and it can hurt. Which of these two things will you choose today?
Little old Winston the Schnauzer made a difference in the world of his family without ever saying a word!
You and I are a little different, though. We have to speak.
The question is how we do it.
Go this week, people of God…and watch your tongue in Jesus’ name!
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