The Power of the Tongue

Humans are amazing creatures, aren’t we? We can not only reason in complex and abstract ways, we can put thoughts and ideas into words and share them with other people. It is an incredible gift, and a true mark of our being made in the image of God. This gift also carries with it great power. King Solomon tells us “The tongue has the power of life and death”

Humans are amazing creatures, aren’t we? We can not only reason in complex and abstract ways, we can put thoughts and ideas into words and share them with other people. It is an incredible gift, and a true mark of our being made in the image of God. This gift also carries with it great power.

King Solomon tells us “The tongue has the power of life and death” (Proverbs 18:21).  By that, he means we can bring life and refreshment to others, like water to a parched man, or we can destroy others with our words. Little children learn the power of the tongue early as they manipulate each other with this incredible power to wound or heal. “I’m not gonna be your friend” is not only the height of arrogance, it is like plunging a knife into another’s breast.

The power of the tongue can bring life or death to a marriage, or at school, the workplace, in a church, or anywhere people who have this great power come together.

An old sermon called “The Hour of Silence” says this:

My tongue is a great power.

Its words wound — or else they cure.

They poison — or else they bless.

Once they have gone forth from me, shot like arrows

into the air — they will find their lodgment, and they

will accomplish their errand. I cannot recall them. I

cannot cancel and undo them.

For weal or for woe — they have sped away from me.

 

There is a sense in which my words are my deeds; they

achieve as much — of mercy or of misery, of healing or

of harming — as my actions do.

 

Far too often my tongue has been an agent of mischief and hurt. It has spoken untenderly or untruly, harshly or hastily.

My tongue has suggested unworthy motives to the deeds of others. It has magnified their failures and errors. It has been a firebrand. It has distributed bitter and corroding acids — instead of the honeycomb. Sometimes it has been the propagandist of actual sin!

My Lord, consecrate and keep this tongue of mine. Refine it, and sweeten it, and sanctify it! May it love.

That is a worthy or important prayer!  The clearest commandment we have on this in Scripture is found in Ephesians 4:29:

Let no unwholesome word proceed from your mouth, but only such a word as is good for edification according to the need of the moment, so that it will give grace to those who hear.

 

The unwholesome (literally “rotten”) word is death. The edifying word is life. To edify is to build up. Words should build and not tear down. Most relational sorrows come from tearing one another down—and it is all too common, even among believers. There is a time for truth and confrontation, but even that must always serve an edifying purpose and goal. Always. And Paul reminds us confronting sin is to be with a “spirit of gentleness” (Galatians 6:1). So wrestle that tongue of yours into submission to the edifying grace of Jesus. Permit only life-giving words to come forth!  That is one of the best ways to serve the Lord!

Yours in Christ,

Originally printed in The AFBC Pony Express. Vol. IX, No. 7, July 2016.