Little Things

 Live long enough, and you’ll see things you can’t quite explain. I’m not talking about cloud formations that look like Bob’s Big Boy or how a mom can lift a car with one hand while grabbing her baby after they rolled off a cliff, but how a fully grown man can be brought close to tears by a woman a quarter his size with nothing more than the use of her tongue.

I’ve seen it on more than one occasion, and it’s always fascinating. Here is a man that could, if so inclined, twist the woman coming up to his waist into a pretzel, but he’s just sitting there, his arms dangling between his knees, a lost, vacant look in his eyes, while she’s giving him the what for, entirely in control, and knowing it.

I’ve been married going on twenty-four years. Anyone who’s been married that long understands the power of the tongue and how it can be used for good or evil, to build up or to tear down, to bring joy, or to cause tears.

When James says that the tongue is a little member that boasts of great things, he is not exaggerating. I’ve seen words heal, and I’ve seen words hurt. I’ve seen the right word in due season give someone the encouragement they needed to persevere through the hardest times of their life, and I’ve seen words deflate someone as though they were a balloon that met an untimely fate on the end of a pin.

James then proceeds to give a couple of illustrations in order to cement the idea that the tongue is a tool that, although small, has great power and the ability to sow peace or discord, joy, or sadness. The first example he uses is that of a ship, which, although large and driven by fierce winds, is turned by a very small rudder wherever the pilot desires.

Just as the pilot or the captain is in control of the rudder, steering it in the direction he desires the ship to go, we, likewise, must be in control of our tongues, steering it in the direction we want it to go.

One moment of inattention, especially in a storm, and the ship veers towards the rocks, and tragedy is a foregone conclusion. The vessel's captain chooses to steer the boat toward calm seas or rocky shores. He decides where the ship goes; the ship does not decide independently.

You have control over your tongue. You decide the words you speak, how you speak them, the inflection, tone, and volume you use, and no one can force you to do otherwise. If the awareness of how powerful the tongue is remains ever present in our minds, then we will use it wisely, steering it toward light rather than darkness, encouragement rather than distress.

If you’ve ever thought you could have said something differently, that you could have been more tactful or conciliatory, the next time, do so. Do not repeat the mistakes you know you’ve made by letting your tongue get ahead of you. Do not continue to do as you’ve always done, speaking words you should not speak and hurting people you will regret hurting.

James 3:5-6, “Even so the tongue is a little member and boasts great things. See how great a forest a little fire kindles! And the tongue is a fire, a world of iniquity. The tongue is so set among our members that it defiles the whole body and sets on fire the course of nature, and it is set on fire by hell.”

I wonder if James and Jude learned directness from their big brother. No one can ever accuse James of beating around the bush or being less than direct when it comes to his feelings on how dangerous the tongue is and how many pitfalls it poses in the life of the believer if it is allowed to get out of control.

I recently watched highlights of a debate between two pastors who disagreed on some tertiary issue, and it ended with them screaming at each other as though they were little children, upset that they were not getting their way. Control the tongue. Bite it between your teeth if you must, but don’t let it get out of control. A small fire is much easier to put out than a forest fire fully matured. It all depends on how quickly you decide to extinguish it.

I’ve heard of families breaking apart and husbands and wives divorcing over something as silly as an egg. The husband ate the last egg without asking if the wife wanted some, the wife called him out on it, and it escalated from there until they concluded that they had irreconcilable differences. Over an egg. The entire matter could have been deescalated, shut down, and forgotten if one had shown an iota of maturity.

Back in the day, there were no laptops or cell phones, so the only way to communicate was either by taking the time to chisel something into stone, being rich enough to get your hand on some papyrus, learning to write, finding a quill and chicken scratching your angst, or speaking, yelling, screaming, or screeching.

If James had written his epistle today, the fingertips would likely come in second place to the tongue as far as little members that can do big damage because there are keyboard warriors a plenty, and they all have a bone to pick with someone.

The tongue is a tool. It’s how you use it that matters. Whether or not it’s bridled matters. Whether you can control it and be diligent in making sure that it leads in the direction you want it to go should be your primary concern because unless you plan on living in the crags of a mountain far removed from everyone, never speaking again is not an option.

With love in Christ,

Michael Boldea, Jr.