Written by Richelle Thompson
James 3:10a (NRSV) From the same mouth come blessing and cursing.
Even as a child, I knew the rhyme was wrong: Sticks and stones may break my bones—but words, ah, words. They can hurt more deeply than a fracture—and the pain can last a lifetime.
My grandfather bought bags of penny candy for me and my younger sisters. When I reached middle school, he stopped bringing a bag for me. “You’re big enough already,” he would say, then turn to my skinny-as-a-rail sister and praise her athleticism and thinness.
Three decades later, his words still ricochet in my head—how I wish a simple cast or splint could mend that break in confidence, the sinking of heart.
James knew the tongue could be a wicked weapon. In his epistle, he warns the Jewish Christians living outside Palestine of the danger of the tongue. Words matter, he tells them and us, and we have a choice to use them for good or for ill. We can choose to be boastful, mouth off a snide comment, fire a well-placed jab. Or we can let our words be a reflection of God’s grace, so the words that echo are of peace and healing, not brokenness and pain.
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