Fiery Tongues

I was lucky enough to start my seminary days at a place that required knowledge of the biblical languages. So when I took a course on the Gospel of Mark, we started each class translating the Greek passage for the day. And when it came time to write an exegesis paper, we were expected to do some Greek word study as well. My paper was on this Sunday’s reading. I could have a lot to say when I preach. Yet somehow I have a feeling that most of my parishioners don’t come to church to learn the intricacies of the Greek language.

Sunday we will be commissioning church school teachers. Perhaps I could dwell on this statement of James: “Not many of you should become teachers.” But why discourage the dedicated souls who have been recruited to fill those slots? Why try to convince them that they will be judged with greater strictness, when we are delighted that they have stepped up to guide our youth?

“For all of us make many mistakes,” James adds. Now there’s something that’s universal. In our corporate confession we admit to things we have done and things we have left undone – the classic sins of commission and omission. It’s not just what we do, but what we fail to do, that separates us from God and one another. “Who can tell how often he offends?” asks the psalmist.

James particularly focuses on the sins of the tongue. “The tongue is a fire,” he states, “a restless evil, full of deadly poison.” Just two weeks ago Jesus gave us a nasty list of what can come out of the human heart through the tongue, including deceit, envy, slander, pride, and folly.

Folly is the special concern of Proverbs. It is the antithesis of wisdom. Personified Wisdom scoffs at the foolish, laughing when their foolishness results in calamity. That sounds harsh, but are we so different? Are we not fascinated by human and natural disasters? Why are some so ready to attach blame to people who suffer? Why is there smug satisfaction when a person who stumbles “gets theirs?”

The reason, I think, is a human tendency to minimize our own sins by enlarging the sins of others, using that fiery tongue. That’s the reason the early monks of Egypt valued silence. They knew that it was hard not to sin if they opened their mouths. One garrulous man even carried stones in his mouth for three years until he learned to be quiet.

We don’t need to carry stones in our mouths, but we do need to learn to watch our speech. As James reminded us a couple of weeks ago, we need to be slow to speak and quick to listen. Only then will we be less likely to sin against God and one another. And you can do that without even knowing any Greek.

Pentecost 15: Proverbs 1:20-33; Psalm 19; James 3:1-12; Mark 8:27-38