The Power of the Tongue: Living Under New Covenant Wisdom

 

In the early days of the Christian church, believers faced a unique challenge. They had grown up with the Torah, the teachings of the rabbis, and the wisdom of the prophets. But now they were living under a new covenant through Jesus Christ. The question that plagued many of them was simple yet profound: How do we live now?

This confusion was especially acute for those who had scattered from Jerusalem seeking religious freedom. They carried their faith with them but often lacked mature teachers to guide them. In this vacuum, many began setting themselves up as teachers—sometimes because there was genuine need, other times because knowing slightly more than others gave them a sense of authority and prestige.

The Weight of Teaching

The Book of James addresses this situation head-on with a sobering warning: "Not many of you should become teachers, my brothers, for you know that we who teach will be judged with greater strictness" (James 3:1).

Teaching is not something to be taken lightly. When we assume the role of teacher or leader, we place our lives under a microscope. People don't just listen to our words—they watch our actions. They observe whether we live what we teach.

In ancient times, becoming a rabbi was a lifelong process involving years of apprenticeship under established teachers. The title came with special garments, respect, and authority. But it also came with responsibility. Jesus himself confronted the religious teachers of his day, calling them hypocrites who "shut the kingdom of heaven in people's faces" because they neither entered themselves nor allowed others to enter (Matthew 23:13).

The danger isn't just in teaching incorrectly—it's in teaching one thing while living another. It's in using the position of teacher for personal gain, prestige, or power rather than for genuine service to God's people.

The Untamable Tongue

James uses vivid imagery to illustrate the power of something so small: the tongue. He compares it to a horse's bit—a tiny piece of metal that can control a massive, powerful animal. He likens it to a ship's rudder, which though small compared to the vessel, determines its entire direction.

But then comes the twist: while bits and rudders can be controlled, "no human being can tame the tongue. It is a restless evil full of deadly poison" (James 3:8).

Think about it. A horse, weighing over a thousand pounds, can be directed with a small bit. A massive ship can be steered with a relatively tiny rudder. Yet our tongues—those small members of our bodies—remain stubbornly difficult to control.

James describes the tongue as a fire that can set ablaze an entire forest. Anyone who has spoken words in anger, spread gossip, or carelessly criticized another person knows this truth. Words spoken in a moment can cause damage that lasts years. They can throw people into depression, destroy relationships, and derail destinies.

We tell ourselves "sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me," but we know that's not true. Words do hurt. They wound deeply and leave scars that sometimes never fully heal.

The Contradiction Within

Perhaps most troubling is the contradiction James highlights: "With it we bless our Lord and Father, and with it we curse people who are made in the likeness of God. From the same mouth come blessing and cursing. My brothers, these things ought not to be so" (James 3:9-10).

We sing praises on Sunday morning, then criticize our neighbor on Sunday afternoon. We pray for God's blessing, then speak harshly to our spouse. We declare God's love, then gossip about a coworker.

James asks the obvious question: Does a spring pour out both fresh and salt water? Can a fig tree produce olives? The answer is clearly no. Yet somehow we expect to produce both blessing and cursing from the same mouth and think nothing of it.

The issue often isn't major theological errors or deliberate evil. It's the small slips—the careless comments, the thoughtless criticisms, the gossip disguised as "prayer requests," the excessive talking when we should listen, the silence when we should speak up.

It's like navigating a sailboat across a lake. If you catch yourself going off course by just one or two degrees and make a quick correction, you stay on track. But if you ignore that small deviation for an hour, you end up miles from your destination. Small course corrections made quickly keep us on track. Ignored deviations lead us far astray.

Two Kinds of Wisdom

James identifies two fundamentally different types of wisdom operating in the world.

The first is earthly wisdom—what seems right to human thinking. This wisdom is characterized by "bitter jealousy and selfish ambition" (James 3:14). It's driven by emotion rather than truth, by feelings rather than facts. It's the kind of "wisdom" that says, "I'm right because this is how I feel, and you should feel the same way."

This earthly wisdom is constantly changing, adapting to cultural trends, guided ultimately by the enemy. It creates disorder and chaos because it's rooted in division, anger, and self-interest. We see it everywhere on social media, where emotion trumps logic and outrage spreads faster than truth.

The second type is heavenly wisdom, which is "first pure, then peaceable, gentle, open to reason, full of mercy and good fruits, impartial and sincere" (James 3:17). This wisdom is characterized by humility—the recognition that we're not always right and we need to examine ourselves honestly.

Heavenly wisdom produces genuine faith that manifests in deeds and a godly lifestyle. Yes, we stumble and fall. Yes, we make mistakes. But we make course corrections. We repent. We ask forgiveness. And people watching our lives see something different—not perfection, but a pattern of returning to the right path.

The Servant Leader Model

True wisdom doesn't parade itself with pride or arrogance. It doesn't seek quarrels or demand recognition. Instead, it operates through humble, unselfish service.

The truly wise person understands that leadership isn't about dictating or pointing fingers. It's about discovering needs and serving them. It's about being a "servant leader"—someone who leads not from a position of superiority but from a posture of humility.

This is the example Jesus gave us. He didn't come to be served but to serve. He washed his disciples' feet. He touched lepers. He ate with sinners. And he calls us to follow the same pattern.

The Lordship Question

Living under the new covenant isn't about following a checklist of rules. Jesus did away with that system. Instead, it's about surrendering every area of our lives to his lordship.

Here's the challenging truth: if Jesus is not Lord of everything in our lives, then he's not truly Lord of anything.

We're good at compartmentalizing. We have different boxes for different parts of our lives—marriage, finances, work, social life, church life. And it's tempting to say, "These compartments belong to God, but this one over here? That's mine. Don't touch it."

But lordship doesn't work that way. If he's truly Lord, then every closet, every basement, every attic, every shed belongs to him. Every conversation, every transaction, every relationship, every thought.

When we encounter something Jesus asks of us, we can't say "Lord" and "no" in the same sentence. If he's Lord, the answer is always yes. Even when it's hard. Even when it costs us something. Even when it requires us to change.

The Harvest of Righteousness

The good news is that when we live under God's wisdom—when we control our tongues, live with integrity, serve humbly, and surrender fully to his lordship—we reap a harvest.

"A harvest of righteousness is sown in peace by those who make peace" (James 3:18).

Just as a gardener who properly tends tomato plants will eventually harvest ripe tomatoes, believers who cultivate godly wisdom will harvest righteousness. But it requires action. We can't just plant a seed and expect results without watering, fertilizing, and caring for the plant.

The same is true in our spiritual lives. Faith without corresponding deeds is dead. But faith combined with action—with controlled speech, humble service, and complete surrender—produces fruit that lasts.

The early Christians needed to know how to live in this new covenant. They needed standards for teaching, for speaking, for living transparently. The wisdom given to them through James still applies to us today.

We have the whole New Testament available to us now, but the question remains the same: Are we willing to surrender every part of our lives to Christ's lordship? When he asks something of us—whatever he asks—will we say yes?

The answer to that question determines not just what we believe, but how we live. And ultimately, what we harvest.