It lies there, docile in its dark, moist chamber, doing neither good nor ill. But don’t be fooled. It can suddenly spring to action, responding like a wild, bucking bronco, a storm-driven ship, a raging forest fire, a poisonous viper, or a bitter fountain (Jas. 3:3-12).
Composed of muscles covered with a membrane, the “little member” known as the tongue seems to have a life of its own. James refers to it as “an unruly evil” as if it can go off by itself, wreaking havoc at a whim. Only one Man never had tongue trouble: “The same is a perfect man” (Jas. 3:2). “Never man spake like this Man,” confessed His enemies.
The rest of us? Do we have trouble! Some suggest the answer is in not saying anything, but “sometimes silence isn’t golden, it’s just plain yellow.” The solution is not found in total silence. James does not speak of muzzles for the horses, but bridles; not anchors for the ships, but helms. We are not to act like the brutes who cannot speak; this faculty helps distinguish us from the animals.
The physicians would tell us that our tongues are attached to the hyoid bone and the inner surface of the lower jaw. But we know better than that. We know that our tongues are attached to our hearts and minds. “Out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaks.” Whatever fills my heart and mind will soon manifest itself on my tongue. That’s why it is so important to guard our inner life.
If you have been feeding on the food of Egypt (leeks, onions, garlic), I will smell it on your breath. If you have allowed bitterness to take root in your mind, the fruit will soon be borne in your speech. If avarice, envy, lust or any of a thousand vices have taken up residence in your soul, their nameplates will be engraved at the door of your lips.
Not by accident, the tongue is also the principle organ of taste. When the taste bud receptor cells contact molecules of food, they transmit this chemical information by the nerves that link your tongue to your brain. The data travels to the thalamus to be sorted, then to the cerebral cortex to be interpreted–all in a fraction of a second.
We categorize tastes into salty, sour, bitter, and sweet. Combinations of these, like the primary colors, produce a rainbow of flavors that delight or disgust our palates. So it is with our words. As our Saviour reminded us, it is the influence of what comes out of a man’s mouth that makes the real difference, not what goes into his mouth.
Salty: Job asked, “Can that which is unsavory be eaten without salt?” (Job 6:6). He felt his life had become unsavory. He longed for zest to be added to it again. So is life today without the Lord. In the Old Testament, salt was called “the salt of the covenant” and was necessary in every sacrifice to God. Doesn’t this suggest the pervading and preserving influence of the promises of God–what God has said? This is what adds the taste to otherwise bland lives. Our speech should also arrest the putrefaction around us (Eph. 5:11).
We also are to add salt to our speech (Col. 4:6). By adding His promises to our talk, we offer others the delicious possibility of becoming partakers of the divine nature. In fact we are salt for God in this world (Mt. 5:13).
Sour and Bitter: “The words of his mouth were smoother than butter, but war was in his heart: his words were softer than oil, yet were they drawn swords” (Ps. 55:21). The germs of 1 Peter 2:1–“malice,…guile,… hypocrisies,…envies, and all evil speakings”–spoil the sweet milk of verse 2. Husbands are enjoined not to be bitter toward their wives (Col. 3:19), and James tells us that mixing bitter and sweet water always makes the whole thing bitter. Any sweet words we say will be ruined by our bitter comments, even if spoken as a thinly-disguised jest.
Sweet: We do not mean sickly-sweet flattery, but words like the Master taught us: “How sweet are Thy words unto my taste! yea, sweeter than honey to my mouth!” (Ps. 119:103). And remember the adage: “Keep your words sweet; you never know when you may have to eat them.”