John Wesley once was approached by an opinionated woman in his congregation who told him that she knew what her God-given talent was. “I think my talent from God is to speak my mind,” she said. Wesley replied, “Lady, I don’t think God would mind one bit if you buried that talent.”
Some days, that woman is me.
People can tame all kinds of animals, birds, reptiles, and fish, but no one can tame the tongue. It is restless and evil, full of deadly poison. Sometimes it praises our Lord and Father, and sometimes it curses those who have been made in the image of God. And so blessing and cursing come pouring out of the same mouth. Surely, my brothers and sisters, this is not right! – James 3:7-10
I don’t wake up planning to say something sharp or unkind. It usually happens when I’m tired, irritated, or convinced I’m right. Maybe it’s a sarcastic comment I justify as “just being honest.” Maybe it’s the way I talk about someone when they aren’t around. Or maybe it’s the tone I use when I feel misunderstood or challenged. I call it “speaking my mind,” but a lot of times it’s just me refusing to take my thoughts captive and making them obedient to Christ (2 Corinthians 10:5).
I don’t think God requires us to be monks and take a vow of silence, or pretend that nothing matters. The Bible never tells us to stop speaking truth or to avoid hard conversations. But Scripture does tell us that our speech should glorify God consistently. And that’s where I struggle – that consistently part.
James says we’ve figured out how to tame animals, birds, reptiles, even sea creatures, but not our tongues. That feels about right. I can control my schedule, my finances, my behavior in public… but give me five minutes of frustration, and my mouth exposes what’s really going on inside me.
Probably what hits me the hardest is James’s warning that with the same mouth we praise God and curse people made in His image. I’ve sung worship songs – with real sincerity! – and then later in the day criticized someone, mocked someone, or spoken about them in a way I definitely wouldn’t if they were standing there. That’s not a hypothetical problem. That’s a hypocritical problem. And that’s not good and I have to own it.
And then James says this is not right.
If I’m honest, I’ve had a “church vocabulary” and a “real-life vocabulary.” Words I’d never say in a Bible study somedays feel acceptable in traffic, at work, or behind a screen. James compares that to being a spring that produces both fresh water and salt water from the same opening (v.11). That imagery convicts me and leaves me without excuse. A divided mouth ultimately points to a divided heart.
What makes it worse is remembering who my words are aimed at. The people I get sarcastic about, the people I complain about, the people I dismiss with a quick comment – these aren’t just annoying personalities – they are image-bearers of God. Every careless word bumps up against something God takes personally!
James isn’t saying I can tame my tongue through sheer effort. If that worked, I’d be done by now. I think what he’s really pressing here is this: what source am I drawing from? Because when I’m rooted in the Spirit – when I’m reading God’s Word, when I’m praying, when I’m listening, and when I slow down my response time – my words usually sound different. Not perfect, but different.
So this passage forces a simple question on me: when pressure hits, what kind of water comes out? And if it’s salty, maybe the problem isn’t my mouth as much as where my heart has wandered.
Former Blackout Artist 