Be not many teachers, my brethren, knowing that we shall receive greater judgment.
James 3 turns from faith proved by works to the tongue that talks about it. It opens with a warning to anyone eager to instruct others. Why is teaching a danger, and what is the "greater judgment" hanging over it?
Older translations read "be not many masters," which can suggest bossiness. The word is the ordinary one for a teacher — the same title given to the Lord Himself.
A caution is given in James 3:1, "Be not many teachers," for it involved greater responsibility. The same word (didaskalos) occurs in John 13:13, where the Lord acknowledged that He is the Teacher. He was addressed as 'Teacher' many times, though in nearly all cases the Authorised Version has 'Master.' He taught as one having authority, and not as the scribes.
The verse is not an attack on the gift of teaching. It aims at an appetite that gifted and ungifted alike can share.
The Apostle is not speaking of the right use of the gift of teaching (Romans 12:7). He is speaking of the tendency of the flesh to delight in teaching others, and its eagerness to take part in ministry. Even where the gift of teaching exists, the flesh, if allowed, can easily misuse the gift to feed its own vanity. Even without the gift, we are all in danger of teaching others what is right, while forgetting that we ourselves may fail in the very things we warn others about. One has said, "It is far easier to teach others than to govern ourselves", and again, "Humility in the heart makes a man slow to speak."
God does not apply one flat standard to everyone. Two things raise the bar: how much light you have, and the place you take.
In the light of these words, there are clearly differing degrees of severity in the Divine judgment. God will expect more from those who have more light and understanding, and will judge them by higher standards. It is also clear that He will judge us according to the place we take, whether He has called us into it or not. In the light of that let none of us rush into the position of being a master or teacher.
Speech is where a teacher is exposed. Words are what God keeps and calls to account.
Our Lord condemned every idle word and spoke of the account to be given for it in the day of judgment. He said, "By your words you will be justified, and by your words you will be condemned." So His servant here reminds us that speaking in this way increases responsibility. God is not mocked and remembers words lightly said, which might be urged on others with little or no thought of our own need. "You then who teach others, do you not teach yourself?" Judgment becomes heavier in every way if teaching does not flow from love and in the fear of God.
The phrase "greater judgment" can sound like a threat to salvation itself. Gaebelein draws the line.
Even teaching given to the members of the body of Christ must be handled with care, for it carries great responsibility: one may preach to others and be himself disapproved (1 Corinthians 9:27). If someone is a teacher, he must also practise what he teaches. If he does not, he will receive a greater judgment — not about salvation, but about disapproval before the award seat of Christ.
A caution against too many teachers only makes sense where anyone might speak. The guard James supplies is not a rule shutting the door, but conscience.
This exhortation was suitable, wholesome and needed for those he addressed. It clearly implied that there was an open ministry, which the flesh might well abuse. Yet the Spirit did not close or restrict that ministry. He turned it to the good of their souls by pressing on them their direct responsibility to God. On the other hand, the entire family of God are told not to believe every spirit. They must test the spirits to see whether they are from God, because many false prophets have gone out into the world (1 John 4:1)... Responsibility is maintained on all sides: no one can escape it.
Some use this verse as an excuse to keep what they know to themselves. Commentators block that reading.
Nothing in Scripture is clearer than this: whatever truth a person receives from God, he is responsible to pass it on in whatever way lies open to him, for the help of others. To hold what is infinite riches to the soul is itself a responsibility to pass it on, and love recognises this at once. So, in one sense, all may be teachers — though not in the sense the apostle means here. There is the special gift of a teacher; and since it is special, it is not for everyone to assume that he has it.
Hole puts the other half of the same balance bluntly: if God has genuinely called a man to teach, "woe betide him if he shirks the responsibility and ties up his pound in a napkin."
- Position — "Masters" means teachers. God judges you by the place you take, whether He called you to it or not.
- Appetite — James targets not the gift but the flesh's pleasure in instructing others. Gifted and ungifted alike can catch it.
- Words — A teacher's tool is speech, and God remembers words lightly said. More light and a public voice raise the standard He measures you by.
- Verdict — The heavier judgment means disapproval before the award seat of Christ, not the loss of salvation.
- Liberty — The caution only makes sense where ministry is open. The cure is conscience, not a closed door. Silence is no safety: truth received is truth owed to others.
For we all often offend. If any one offend not in word, *he* [is] a perfect man, able to bridle the whole body too.
James has just warned against a rush to teach, and verse 2 gives his reason: we all stumble, most of all in what we say. Yet the same verse sets a standard high enough to describe a fully grown man.
The verb James uses is not a soft one. It starts with the picture of a foot catching on something, and carries it into the moral realm. Older translations render the word "offend"; the ESV has "stumble."
So the Spirit of God turns from the empty eagerness to teach in public to speech in general, which no one can hold down. "For in many things we all offend." The word translated "offend" moves from physical stumbling to moral failure, as in James 2:10. Romans 11:11 already marks that change.
Note the "we all." James puts himself inside it. It should change how we correct others:
So let us remember that in correcting others we may be offenders ourselves, for "we all often offend," even if at times we do so without knowing it. In no way is it so easy to offend as in words.
The verse can be misread in two opposite directions. One reading ends any claim to sinless perfection. The other turns the verse into an excuse.
No saint, no prophet, was flawless or incapable of error. "In many things we all stumble" — I do not say must, but do (James 3:2).
The distinction between do and must matters. Another writer warns against the opposite error:
Beware of the dreadful error of saying that the Christian must sin. God has made the fullest provision for him, so that he need not sin. When he does sin, it is because he chooses to sin, and not because he had to.
Verse 2 backs up the caution about teaching in verse 1. Speech shows what is inside a person, so the eager teacher stands in real danger.
James wants humility in speaking, and that we should not be many teachers. When we do not know ourselves, it is far easier to teach others than to govern ourselves. Now the tongue is the most direct index of what is in the heart. We all fail in many things, and if we take it on ourselves to teach others, our offenses are even more serious.
The word does not mean a man with no sin. It means one who has grown up, and that growth usually has a cost.
One who in this way does not offend is "perfect" in the sense of mature, and able to control his entire body. This ought to be true of a teacher, and indeed of every experienced believer. But usually it is not true without some painful experience.
The picture raises a question, and the answer sends us back to verse 1:
As we think about ourselves, or as we look at others, we may well ask: where is this perfect man who is in complete control? Where indeed? We do not know him. But it should teach us to be slow to take the place of a master. It is entirely right that the man who wants to be master of others should first be master of himself.
James chooses the word "bridle" with care. Holding something in check is not the same as taming it.
A believer, by the power of the Spirit of God, may "bridle" his tongue, that is, put it under restraint; and this is a serious responsibility. But let no one persuade himself that he has tamed his tongue. Anyone who does will almost certainly find out by experience that it is still "a restless evil, full of deadly poison." So it needs constant guarding and restraining.
So where does the restraint come from? Not from resolutions we make after the damage is done.
Who then can control the tongue? "No man" can do it, but Christ can. We have only to look to Him in simple faith… How often have we suffered from some blunder of the tongue and then resolved to control that unruly part of us better next time. But our resolution proved to be like the morning cloud that passes away… Why was this? Simply because we took the matter on in our own strength.
- Stumble — the word moves from a foot catching a stone to moral failure. James says "we all," and he includes himself. No one reads this verse from above others.
- Do, not must — the verse states a fact about every believer, not a necessity. The Christian who sins does so by choice.
- Speech first — the tongue shows most directly what is in the heart. Teaching others is easier than governing yourself.
- Perfect means grown — the man who does not offend in word is mature, not sinless. That maturity usually comes through painful experience.
- Bridle, don't boast — you can hold the tongue in check, but never tame it. No man controls it; Christ can. Resolutions made in our own strength fade like morning cloud.
Behold, we put the bits in the mouths of the horses, that they may obey us, and we turn round their whole bodies.
James points to an everyday sight. A rider slips a small piece of metal into a horse's mouth, and the whole animal turns. Size and power are two different things. The real question is who holds the reins on our tongue.
The force of the image lies in the gap between the bit and the animal. One writer measures that gap plainly:
The bit is a very small article when the large bulk of a horse is considered, yet by this simple contrivance a man gains complete control and, when once the animal is broken in and docile, it suffices to turn about its whole body.
The horse is not only mild-tempered ones. The point holds even where the animal has a will of its own, and what is governed is not just the head:
It would be an obvious mistake to doubt the power of an object because its size is small. Such are the bits we put into the horses' mouths. The animal may be wild and headstrong, but this usually brings it to obedience. And it is not only the mouth or head that is controlled: "we guide their whole bodies as well."
James is arguing against a common excuse — that a small fault deserves small concern. The bit answers it:
He shows that it may seem a little thing to man, but we must not excuse what is wrong because it may appear to have a little source. He proves that the smallest things are often the ones that govern far larger bodies.
A bridle is what you use on a creature that will not listen. One writer draws out what that says about us:
It is true that we ought not to be like the horse or the mule, which have no understanding, and which must be held back by bit and bridle, or they will not come near to you (Psalm 32). But that is restraint, and it shames us when we need it, as in the case supposed here. Our joy is to walk in the spirit of obedience and to know God's guidance in the way we should go, counselled by Him with His eye upon us. But if restraint is needed, He knows how, and He does not fail to restrain and to chastise.
James is not really talking about horses. One writer draws the line straight to the tongue:
Even so the tongue is a little member which, if a man can control it like a helmsman, he can govern the whole body. If it is not bridled, the tongue can become the way we express the vanity of our hearts. We use it to condemn others and exalt ourselves, for it can boast "great things."
The reverse is just as true. A bit only works while someone is holding the reins:
But if the horse driver or the helmsman gives up control, and leaves the horse or the ship to its own devices, then tragedy is practically certain. In the same way, the tongue, if it is not controlled by its owner, can do terrible damage rather than exert a great influence for good.
Later in the chapter James says no one can tame the tongue. So this verse is not a call to willpower:
Who then can control the tongue? "No man" can do it, but Christ can, and we have only to look to Him in simple faith. This implies both the sense of our own utter helplessness and His all-sufficiency… How often have we suffered from some blunder of the tongue and resolved to control that unruly tongue a little better next time? But our resolution proved to be like the morning cloud that passes away.
Another writer traces our speech back to the heart:
If no man can restrain the tongue, the grace of Christ can do it. The inner man on one side is under the yoke of the Lord, and is meek and lowly in heart. Christ fills the heart, and the tongue follows the impulses of the heart, so the speech will express this meekness and lowliness… It is very useful to see that the tongue shows what is working within, just as the hands of a clock show the hidden workings of its wheels.
- Small. The bit is tiny beside the horse, yet it turns the whole animal. Power does not follow size.
- Steered. The least thing can govern the largest, so no one may excuse a fault because its source looks small.
- Restrained. A bridle is for a creature that will not listen. It shames us when God must hold us back instead of guiding us with His eye upon us.
- Released. Let go of the reins and the tongue does more than drift. It can do terrible damage.
- Held. No one can tame the tongue by resolution. Christ fills the heart, and the speech that flows out turns meek and lowly.
Behold also the ships, which are so great, and driven by violent winds, are turned about by a very small rudder, wherever the pleasure of the helmsman will.
James turns to the harbour. A huge ship, a hard wind, and one small rudder that decides the whole course. His subject is not the ship but the tongue. Does something so small really carry that much weight?
The whole force of the illustration lies in a mismatch of scale. It answers the excuse that a word is too slight to matter.
He shows that it may seem a small thing to people. But we must not excuse what is wrong just because its source looks small. He proves that the smallest things are often the ones that control far larger bodies.
The bit in a horse's mouth came first. The rudder makes the same point on a bigger scale, and both point to the tongue.
The bit in the mouth of the horse is a small thing, but by it we can compel the horse to obey. The rudder is a small thing, but with it we can steer great ships despite "strong winds". In the same way the tongue is a little member. If a man can control it, as a helmsman controls a ship, he can govern his whole body. If it is left unbridled, the tongue puts the vanity of our hearts into words. We condemn others and exalt ourselves, for the tongue can boast "great things".
James does not describe calm sailing. He puts the rudder to work under pressure, and the wonder is how little effort it takes.
Ships of huge size are also turned by a very small rudder. The helmsman can turn the wheel with one finger. Strong winds may drive them, yet that almost effortless turn of the wheel gives amazing control over them.
The picture also runs the other way. A ship is not safe because it has a rudder; it is safe because someone is holding it.
But if the driver or the helmsman gives up control, and leaves the horse or the ship to itself, tragedy is almost certain. In the same way, if a man does not control his tongue, it can do terrible damage instead of having a great influence for good.
The verse ends with the person at the helm, not just the equipment. The rudder has no direction of its own.
The ship may be enormous, and at times a rough wind may drive it. Yet a very small rudder turns it wherever the steersman decides to send it.
So who is steering? The two pictures are pressed home as a duty — and where God guides, the whole life shows it.
He is still dealing with how easily we fail with the tongue. If a man does not fail in word, he is a perfect man; for James has already admitted that we all fail. He follows this up with two illustrations. They show how a small thing controls a great one, even in the hardest conditions. His aim is to impress on us the importance and the duty of governing our speech. What a blessing it is when the tongue, guided by God, bears witness that the whole body is under His control!
Some readers will still feel that words are a lighter matter than deeds. The commentators reply that words expose more, not less.
In every age many people count nothing but deeds. Free speech seems a man's rightful privilege, and going too far with it seems the most excusable fault of all. Our Lord judged words very differently (Matt. 12). Words express the feelings and leanings of the inner man even more than deeds do.
So the answer is not confidence in our own grip on the helm. Something better is held out to the believer.
The comfort is that God can deal with it — God who gives the believer His own nature.
- Small steers large. The smallest things often control far larger ones. So we cannot excuse a wrong word just because its source looks tiny.
- Bit, then rudder. Two pictures make one case. The tongue is a little member, yet it boasts great things and can govern the whole body.
- Fierce winds included. Strong winds do not stop the rudder. One finger on the wheel turns a great ship.
- Someone must hold the helm. Leave the helm alone and wreck is almost certain. The ship goes wherever the steersman sends it.
- Handed to God. Words reveal the inner man more than deeds do. The comfort is that God can deal with the tongue, and He gives the believer His own nature.
Thus also the tongue is a little member, and boasts great things. See how little a fire, how large a wood it kindles!
Two pictures come just before this verse: a bit in a horse's mouth and a rudder on a great ship. James now turns to the tongue. Why does something so small carry such weight? And why does its damage spread so far beyond its size?
The two illustrations before this verse are not decoration. They set a rule about size. James then applies that rule to speech.
He shows that it may seem a little thing to man. But we must not excuse what is wrong just because its source looks small. He proves that the smallest things are often the ones that govern far larger bodies.
The same smallness that makes the tongue easy to dismiss is what makes it dangerous.
The tongue is small in size. That only makes its power for mischief beyond reckoning or measure more vivid. Who can conceive the destructive effects of an evil word?
"Boasts of great things" is not vague bragging. It is what an unbridled tongue does, and it works in two directions at once.
If we do not bridle the tongue, it can express the vanity of our hearts by condemning others and exalting ourselves, for it can boast "great things." So it can become the source of great mischief. Though it is "a little member," it is like a little fire which may destroy a forest.
Many people grade sin by action and treat loose talk as harmless. One commentator sets that habit against the Lord's own estimate of words.
In every age many people take account of deeds only. Freedom of speech seems a necessary right of a man, and going too far with it the most forgivable of all faults. Our Lord judged words very differently (Matt. 12). Words express the feelings and bent of the inner man even more than deeds do.
Kelly adds why this matters for the tongue in particular: it "boasts habitually and also great things and is so much the more readily enticed to persevere and grow bolder, if sin is limited to deeds of the body."
Older English versions read "how great a matter a little fire kindles." Commentators point out that the Greek word behind "matter" usually means wood or forest. That is the reading the ESV follows, and it sharpens the picture.
It is like a tiny spark, yet that spark can set everything on fire and produce a disastrous blaze. "Behold how much wood is kindled by how small a fire" — this is the correct rendering of the text.
Kelly prefers "wood" too, but allows that the older wording had a basis. Commentators differ over the word, not over the picture.
This fire catches in ordinary places. One writer applies the verse to a disagreement between two women at Philippi.
Two devoted women at Philippi differed in judgment. The Apostle foresaw how something the saints might judge to be of small importance could soon lead to great sorrow and weakness in the assembly. "How great a forest is set ablaze by such a small fire!" (James 3:5).
after_note: DELETE
The scale of that damage among believers is hard to overstate.
The rash, foolish and wicked use of the tongue has caused so much mischief among Christian people… It has brought more defilement into the church of God than anything else.
James is describing the tongue running loose, not the tongue itself. The same power that does such harm can serve the other way.
Of course, he is speaking of the tongue when the fear of God does not restrain it and the power of the Spirit does not guide it. How much might we speak of the wonderful power of the tongue on the other side! What a ministry of comfort and blessing is in it! But the best gifts, when perverted, are just as fruitful for evil as they are good when used rightly.
And the restraint does not come from effort at the lips but from what fills the heart:
Nothing but the power of the Spirit filling the heart with the grace of Christ can restrain the tongue. When the heart is enjoying the grace and love of Christ, the tongue will speak in grace out of the abundance of the heart.
- Small — the bit and the rudder show a rule: little things steer far larger ones. A small source never excuses a wrong.
- Boastful — a tongue off the bridle shows the heart's vanity. It exalts self and condemns others.
- Counted — words are not a lesser class of sin; the Lord treated them as revealing the inner man more than deeds do.
- Spreading — one spark takes a forest. One small difference can bring deep sorrow and weakness among God's people.
- Governed — the tongue that defiles can also carry comfort and blessing. Only a heart filled with the grace of Christ will restrain it.
and the tongue [is] fire, the world of unrighteousness; the tongue is set in our members, the defiler of the whole body, and which sets fire to the course of nature, and is set on fire of hell.
Here James pushes his warning about speech to its sharpest point. He calls the tongue a fire: evil in its whole range, and lit from a source outside itself. So how far does careless speech reach, and where does its heat come from?
The picture goes deeper than a spark that spreads far.
How energetic is the opening of verse 6! "The tongue is fire." It is not only that a mighty blaze follows from a seemingly trivial spark. The tongue itself is "fire" in its moral character. A man may be free from open acts of unrighteousness. Yet if he gives his tongue loose rein without God before his eyes, that tongue is already "a world of iniquity."
Why press so hard on speech, rather than on deeds?
In every age many people take account of nothing but deeds. Freedom of speech seems a necessary privilege of a man, and going too far with it seems the most excusable fault of all. Our Lord judged words very differently (Matt. 12). Words express the feelings and bent of the inner man even more than deeds do.
The phrase covers the full range of wrong a person can do. It also exposes a quiet self-deception: the idea that damage done in words does not really count. Older translations read "world of iniquity"; the ESV has "world of unrighteousness."
Through the fall, and through the self-will or lawlessness that marks sin, the tongue comes to be such a burning power of evil in the members. It is the defiler of the whole body, for there is no limit to its unrighteousness. It is "the world of iniquity," thinking itself safe as long as it only injures in word.
Kelly notes that the wording guards against a wrong idea. The tongue comes to be this defiler. God did not arrange it for so evil an end.
The staining does not stop at the speaker. Writers apply it both to the individual and to the company of Christians.
When we read that the tongue is set among our members and defiles the whole body, the context shows that James meant the human body. Yet it would be just as true of the church, which is the body of Christ, and of which we are all members. The tongue has brought more defilement into the church of God than anything else.
The next clause widens the damage again — beyond the body, into everything a life touches.
The Apostle describes the tongue as a fire which not only kindles trouble but keeps the trouble in existence. It can stir up every form of unrighteousness, and so becomes a world of iniquity. By its evil suggestions it can lead to the defiling of every member of the body, and set the whole course of fallen nature in motion.
The last clause names the source of the blaze. The word behind "hell" here is Gehenna.
Verse 6 shows what the tongue is when nothing restrains it. It is a fire, a world of iniquity. It defiles the whole body and fans the evil of man's nature into a devouring flame. The words "and it is set on fire of hell" are deeply sobering. Except for this one instance, the word "Gehenna" was used by the Lord alone when He was on earth.
One writer names who struck the first spark:
When the tongue is used this way, we may be quite sure that hell first set the tongue itself on fire. The devil has enslaved it to serve his ends. He struck the spark that, through the tongue, has fired the whole train of evil.
Since no one can tame the tongue, the answer is not a stronger resolution.
The Apostle is not speaking of the tongue when used by grace and restrained by the Spirit, but of the tongue used under the influence of the flesh and energised by the devil. Nothing but the power of the Spirit filling the heart with the grace of Christ can restrain the tongue. When the heart is enjoying the grace and love of Christ, the tongue will speak in grace out of the abundance of the heart.
- Fire. The tongue does not merely start a blaze. It is fire in its moral character, once a man gives it loose rein.
- Fire's fuel. Words expose the inner man even more than deeds do. So "it was only talk" is the very self-deception James attacks.
- Fire's spread. It defiles the whole body. Writers extend that staining to the whole company of Christians, where it has done more damage than anything else.
- Fire's source. The blaze is lit from hell: the devil struck the spark, and the tongue serves his ends.
- Fire quenched. No one can tame it. Only the Spirit, filling the heart with the grace of Christ, makes the tongue speak in grace.
For every species both of beasts and of birds, both of creeping things and of sea animals, is tamed and has been tamed by the human species;
Man rules the animal world — he trains lions, tames birds, handles snakes, works with creatures of the sea. James uses that success to set up a contrast: the creature who has mastered creation has not mastered his own tongue.
One writer walks through that record, class by class.
Here the inspired writer states an undeniable fact. What savage brute has not yielded to the rule of man? What has not been subdued and become his pet or playmate? What bird of the air, fierce or timid, has not bowed to his superiority and obeyed his will? Even snakes, however cunning, powerful, or poisonous, have often been taught to live harmlessly beside him. Creatures of the sea have made friends with him and served him or paid him honour.
James names four classes — beasts, birds, creeping things, sea creatures. Together they cover all animal life.
Set that record beside a man's own speech, and the success ends. The same writer asks the obvious question:
But where is the man who has truly tamed either his own tongue or another's? We can point to what everyone sees, and just as strongly and painfully to our own experience. It may and should be a heart-breaking confession, but is it not entirely true? Who does not know how quick and ready the tongue is to break its limits, how slow to seek or keep the peace?
Resolutions do not close the gap. One writer names the one thing that does:
James speaks of the power man has to tame every kind of beast and bird, even creeping things such as snakes, and things in the sea. But man, the conqueror of the animal creation, is helpless when it comes to taming the tongue... All resolutions man makes to keep his tongue under control fail. But if a man has a new nature with the Holy Spirit living there, the tongue can be governed and its evils overcome.
The tongue holds out because it is not really the problem. It is the outlet.
Man can tame all kinds of creatures but he cannot tame his own tongue. The reason for this is clear enough. Speech is the great channel by which the heart of man expresses itself. So the only way to really tame the tongue is to tame the heart. But this is impossible for man. The grace and power of God are needed for it.
Another writer puts it in a picture. The tongue "shows what is working within, just as the hands of a clock show the hidden workings of its wheels" (J. N. Darby).
The verdict in the next verse is precise. It shuts out human ability without shutting out hope.
Is it written that absolutely no one is able to tame the tongue? Not at all. No "human being" can tame it. Ah, we can thank God. He is our desire, our expectation, and our strength. It would be a wholly unchristian thought that we could subdue our own tongue. It is our confidence to look up to God for what is completely beyond our capacity.
So where should our own effort go?
Who then can control the tongue? "No human being" can do it, but Christ can, and we have only to look to Him in simple faith. This means we feel both our own utter helplessness and His all-sufficiency... How often have we suffered from some blunder of the tongue and resolved to control that unruly member a little better next time! But our resolution proved to be like the morning cloud that passes away.
Restraining the tongue is not the same as finishing with it.
By the power of the Spirit of God, a believer may "bridle" his tongue — that is, hold it under restraint. This is a serious responsibility. But let no one convince himself that he has tamed his tongue. If he does, he will almost certainly learn by painful experience that it is still "a restless evil, full of deadly poison" (older versions: "an unruly evil"). So it needs constant guarding and restraining.
- Tamed — Every class of creature James names has yielded to man: beasts, birds, creeping things, sea creatures. Nobody argues with that record.
- Untamed — The one creature he has never subdued lives in his own mouth. The conqueror of the animal world is helpless here. Resolutions to do better fade like a morning cloud.
- Why — Speech is the channel the heart uses. Man cannot tame his tongue because he cannot tame his heart. The clock hands only show the wheels inside.
- Who — The verdict is that no human being can tame it. That wording leaves God out of the ban, and the believer looks up for what is beyond his own capacity.
- How — What God gives is a bridle, not a finished conquest. The Spirit restrains it day by day, and it is never declared safe.
but the tongue can no one among men tame; [it is] an unsettled evil, full of death-bringing poison.
James has just listed every kind of creature that man has tamed. Now he comes to the one thing man cannot tame, and the real question is whether anything can.
One writer shows how complete man's rule over the animal world really is:
Here the inspired writer states an undeniable fact. What savage brute has not yielded to man's rule and become his pet or playmate? What bird of the air, fierce or timid, has not bowed to his power and obeyed his will? Even snakes, however cunning, strong, or venomous, have often been tamed to live safely with him. Creatures of the sea have made friends with him and given him honour or service.
The same writer then turns that record against us, and the appeal is not to theory but to what every reader already knows about himself:
But where is the man who has truly tamed either his own tongue or someone else's? Here we can appeal to universal observation, but no less forcibly and painfully to personal experience. It may and ought to be a heart-breaking confession; but is it not entirely true? Who does not know how quick and ready the tongue is to break its bounds; how slow to seek or keep the peace?
The reason lies behind the mouth, not in it:
Speech is the main road by which the heart of man expresses itself. So the only way to really tame the tongue is to tame the heart. But this is impossible for man. The grace and power of God are needed for it. In itself the tongue only gives expression to the deadly poison that lurks in the human heart.
Another writer gives the same idea a picture worth keeping:
It is difficult not to fail, but it is very useful to see that the tongue shows what is working within, just as the hands of a clock show the hidden workings of its wheels.
The poison image is not reserved for obvious cruelty. Words that sound pleasant can carry it best:
It is indeed, as it is called here, an unsettled or unstable evil, full of deadly poison. The poison is never more attractive and dangerous than when someone hands it over in a gilded pill. Good words and fine speeches make the worse case look like the better one. This is a favourite trick of the enemy, and it fits perfectly to deceive innocent hearts.
The poison also spreads beyond the speaker:
Not only does it defile the body, but it can poison the mind. It has been truly said, "Many who live according to the flesh would avoid hitting a man, yet cannot hold back an angry or hard word against a neighbour." One thoughtless or unkind word can easily poison people's minds against someone.
The verse does not say the tongue cannot be tamed. It says no human being can tame it — and commentators press that distinction as the door of hope:
Underneath this dark description of an even darker reality, there is a streak of divine light. Is it written that absolutely no one is able to tame the tongue? By no means. No "human being" can tame it. We can thank God. He is our desire, our expectation, and our strength. It would be a wholly unchristian thought to subdue our own tongue. It is our confidence to look up to God for what is completely beyond our capacity.
One writer traces our repeated failure back to trusting our own strength:
How often have we suffered from some blunder of the tongue and resolved to control that unruly member better next time. But our resolution proved like the morning cloud that passes away. We could only go away and weep over our sad failure in self-control. Why was this? Simply because we took the matter up in our own strength, or at least without a deep enough sense of our own weakness.
One writer draws a useful line between restraining the tongue and taming it. The first is a duty. The second no believer should claim:
A believer may "bridle" his tongue by the power of the Spirit of God. That is, he can put it under restraint, and this is a serious responsibility. But let no one convince himself that he has tamed his tongue. If he does, he will almost certainly learn through painful experience that it is still an unruly evil, full of deadly poison. So it needs constant guarding and restraining.
What fills the heart, then, decides what the restraint produces:
Nothing but the power of the Spirit filling the heart with the grace of Christ can restrain the tongue. When the heart is enjoying the grace and love of Christ, the tongue will speak in grace out of the abundance of the heart.
- Untamed — Man has tamed beasts, birds, snakes and sea creatures. The one creature he has never tamed is himself.
- Untameable — The tongue only reports what is in the heart. To tame the mouth you must tame the heart, and no one can do that.
- Poisonous — The poison spreads to others. It works best when it sounds pleasant: fine speeches are the gilded pill.
- "No human being" — These words are the hinge of hope. No person can tame the tongue. God can, and looking to Him for what is beyond us is the Christian's confidence.
- Bridled — So the believer guards his speech daily but never assumes the tongue is tamed. A heart full of the grace of Christ is what makes speech gracious.
Therewith bless we the Lord and Father, and therewith curse we men made after [the] likeness of God.
The verse sets two uses of one mouth side by side: praise going up to God, and curses going out at people. James's point turns on one fact about those people: they carry God's likeness. That makes the second use unthinkable for anyone who does the first.
The argument here rests on a contradiction anyone can see. One writer points out that speech is God's gift to man, so misusing it is a disorder He could never approve.
From this point our Epistle takes up the ground of obvious and gross inconsistency. Only the most careless can treat lightly a fault that condemns itself. God cannot start such a plain disorder, nor approve it. Speech is an excellent possession, given to man by his Creator, and this is a misuse of it. The inconsistency is least excusable in those who claim a relationship with God and the Lord.
The first half of the verse narrows the audience. Blessing God as Father is not something everyone does.
Unconverted people do not bless God, even the Father. They do not really know God at all, and much less do they know Him as Father. Christians know Him and bless Him in this way, and yet there are times when words of a very contrary sort come out of their lips.
The verse describes people alive now as made in God's likeness. One writer explains how that can still be true after the fall, using a worn coin as the picture.
You might have thought that man at his fall stopped being in the image and likeness of God. But that is not how Scripture presents it… In James 3:9 we find man "made in the likeness of God." We may not fully grasp in what respects man is the image and likeness of God. But it is at least obvious that an image is a representation. When they showed the Lord a coin, He asked whose image it was. They said, Caesar's. It may not have been well made, and so not a good likeness. It may also have been badly battered, as coins often are, yet that would not stop it being the image of Caesar: it represented him, and no one else.
The reason for holding back the tongue is not that people deserve better. It lies in how they were made, and in the mercy we ourselves received.
We are objects of His loving purposes, born of Him by the word of truth. We should be the last to curse anyone, since we ourselves are blessed by pure mercy. It is not that fallen men have any moral worth in themselves, as we above all should know from our own humbling experience. So we at least should never forget how they were brought into being in God's likeness… Instead of cursing others, we want them to obey the truth, share the blessing, and join us in blessing Him who is the source and giver of it all.
The problem is not limited to loud cursing. A quiet, cutting sentence does damage a person would never do with his hands.
Many who live by the flesh would avoid striking a blow, yet cannot hold back an angry or hard word against a neighbour. But if no man can control the tongue, the grace of Christ can do it. The inner man is under the yoke of the Lord, and is gentle and lowly in heart. Christ fills the heart. And because the tongue follows the impulses of the heart, the speech will express that gentleness and lowliness.
The same lips can serve God or serve sin, and one man's story shows how fast the switch can happen.
Through the tongue we can praise and exalt the Lord, bear witness to that worthy Name, tell others of Him and become channels of eternal blessing. But how quickly, if uncontrolled, it may be used in the service of sin. Peter uttered with his tongue his great, God-given confession, "You are the Christ, the Son of the living God." But a short time later that same tongue became the mouthpiece of Satan. Peter rebuked the Lord for saying that He would go to Jerusalem to suffer and to die.
- Same mouth, worse fault. The sin is not just harsh speech. It is praising God and cursing people with the one gift of speech He gave. And it is least excusable in those who know Him as Father.
- Same stamp, still there. Man fell, but the likeness was not cancelled; like a battered coin, he still represents God and no one else.
- Same mercy, no standing. We do not spare people because they have worth of their own. We spare them because we who bless God were blessed by pure mercy — and we want them to share it.
- Same heart, showing. The tongue follows the heart, so a hard word can strike where a hand never would. No one can tame the tongue by effort. The grace of Christ governs it by filling the heart.
- Same lips, two futures. The mouth that confessed Christ became the mouthpiece of Satan within hours. So let Christ fill the heart, and the speech will follow.
Out of the same mouth goes forth blessing and cursing. It is not right, my brethren, that these things should be thus.
James points at something we would rather not look at: the same mouth that blesses God also turns on people. He does not explain the contradiction away. He says it has no place among believers.
Someone who has never known God does not bless Him as Father in the first place. So the clash James describes belongs to believers.
There is a strange inconsistency about the tongue when it is a question of the people of God. Unconverted people do not bless God, even the Father. They do not know God at all, much less as Father. Christians know Him and bless Him in this way, and yet at times words of a very contrary sort come out of their lips. Sometimes they even go so far as cursing men whom God made in His own likeness. No wonder that James says, "My brothers, these things ought not to be so."
The word behind "ought" appears nowhere else in the New Testament.
This word occurs only once, in James 3:10. It comes from a root meaning "to deliver an oracle" or "to be fated," and passes into the sense of what is necessary, what is fitting or proper — or the opposite, with the negative, as here. Compared with the other words, it is a necessity of time or circumstance, and does not have the same moral force.
The appeal is quiet, and it points us to one perfect standard.
The incongruity is heightened by the quiet but pungent appeal, "My brothers, these things ought not to be so." The consistency of the Christian in its perfection is ever and only in Christ; and He is the sole and constant standard for us.
Two things make the cursing unfitting: who the target is, and what we ourselves received.
The principle is plain beyond all question. No inconsistency can be worse than to use the tongue one moment to bless the Supreme God, and the next to curse men made in God's likeness. We are objects of His loving purposes, born of Him by the word of truth, and should be the last to curse any, since we are blessed ourselves by mere mercy... Instead then of cursing others, we want them to obey the truth, share the blessing, and join us in blessing Him Who is the source and giver of it all.
In nature one source yields one kind of thing. So how can both blessing and cursing come out of one Christian?
The answer of course is twofold. First, they began as sinful creatures with an evil nature, just like the rest. Second, they have now been born again, so they now have a new nature, and the old nature has not been removed. So within them there are two fountains: one can produce only evil, the other only good. This is where the strange mixture comes from, and the Apostle condemns it strongly.
But the explanation is not an excuse.
Someone may want to say that, if this is the case with a believer, he hardly deserves such strong blame when his tongue acts as an opening for the bitter waters of the old nature. But any who think this are forgetting that God judged and condemned the flesh, our old nature, at the cross... The believer therefore IS to be reprimanded if his tongue acts as an outlet for the evil of the flesh.
Peter is the standing example. The same mouth that made the great confession about Christ was later used against Him.
Peter spoke his great, God-given confession, "You are the Christ, the Son of the living God." A short time later that same tongue became the mouthpiece of Satan, when he rebuked the Lord for saying that He would go to Jerusalem to suffer and to die. What an inconsistency the tongue of man reveals! Nature shows nothing like it anywhere. A tree does not produce two kinds of fruit. A fig tree bears no olives, and a vine no figs. No fountain pours out both salt water and fresh water.
The mouth reports what is inside, so the cure has to start deeper than self-control.
If no man can restrain the tongue, the grace of Christ can do it. The inner man on one side is under the yoke of the Lord, and is meek and lowly in heart. Christ fills the heart, and because the tongue follows the impulses of the heart, the speech will express this meekness and lowliness... it is very useful to see that the tongue shows what is working within, just as the hands of a clock show the hidden workings of its wheels.
- One mouth. Praise to the Father and abuse of people come from the same set of lips.
- Two fountains. The old nature stays alongside the new, so both kinds of water rise in one believer. Nature knows no spring like that.
- No excuse. The cross judged the old nature, so a believer who lets it speak deserves blame, not pity.
- Every target. The people we curse bear God's likeness, and we were blessed by mercy alone — so we should want them blessed too.
- One remedy. The tongue is a clock face showing the works inside. Fill the heart with Christ and the speech turns meek.
Does the fountain, out of the same opening, pour forth sweet and bitter?
James asks a question everyone can answer. No spring sends fresh water and salt water out of the same opening. Older translations read "sweet and bitter," which is why the writers quoted below use those words. James aims that plain fact from nature at a mouth that blesses God one moment and curses people the next.
James does not argue. He points at a spring and lets nature deliver the reproof.
Here as elsewhere, the plainness of the examples gives the reproof more force. Take the first instance: who ever heard of a spring sending out sweet water and bitter from the same opening? Nature itself rebukes such a shameless mixture and such contradictory results in people who praise the Lord and the Father... Nowhere do we find more telling thrusts of this kind than in the letter before us. What is impossible in nature exposes and punishes what is inconsistent in behaviour. Their claim to be related to God and to enjoy His favour makes it far worse. Is the new nature to be disgraced by what the old universal nature refuses, fallen though it is?
A spring has an opening, and whatever is in the source comes up through it. The tongue is that opening in a person.
What is really filling my heart will come off my tongue. And so you can always tell what my heart is occupied with, because I have a tongue. I cannot deceive you for long.
So the mixture is not a slip of speech. It is evidence about the source.
If the heart did not contain these evils the mouth could never give them out... Notice as well that this dreadful description belongs to religious Jews, not to pagan Gentiles. So a person can sing God's praises on Sunday and be guilty of cursing and bitterness towards people on Monday.
If nature never does this, why do Christians? The answer lies behind the tongue, not in it.
The answer is of course twofold. First, they began as sinful creatures with an evil nature, just like everyone else. Second, they have now been born again, so they now have a new nature. The old nature has not been rooted out of them. So within them there are, if we may put it this way, two fountains. One can produce only evil, the other only good. This is where the strange mixture that the Apostle so strongly condemns comes from.
Two natures could become an excuse. The same writer refuses to allow it.
Someone may want to object. If this is the believer's situation, surely he should not be condemned so strongly when his tongue acts as an opening for the bitter waters of the old nature. But anyone who thinks this is forgetting that the flesh, our old nature, has been judged and condemned at the cross. "Sin in the flesh," as Romans 8:3 puts it, has been condemned. The believer knows this. So he is responsible to treat it as a judged and condemned thing, which is therefore not allowed to act. So the believer IS to be reprimanded if his tongue acts as an outlet for the evil of the flesh.
People often borrow the image of sweet and bitter water to describe a Christian's inner struggle. One writer warns that this stretches James past what he wrote.
To use "sweet water and bitter" that way is a false use of James. He is speaking about what comes out of a person — "cursing man and blessing God" — and he condemns it. It has nothing to do with the inward experience of a soul. The man in James may be a fully delivered soul if he has grown careless.
Sweet water is possible too, and one writer points to the company that produces it.
When we are in the company of the Lord Jesus, we will be blessed. Learning from His example, we will be encouraged and refreshed. Like these fountains, we will produce sweet water to drink.
The same tongue can go either way, as one of Jesus' own disciples shows.
Through the tongue we can praise and exalt the Lord. We can bear witness to that worthy Name, tell others of Him, and become channels of eternal blessing. But how quickly, if it is not controlled, it can be used in the service of sin. Peter spoke with his tongue his great, God-given confession, "You are the Christ, the Son of the living God." A short time later that same tongue became the mouthpiece of Satan, when he rebuked the Lord for saying that He would go to Jerusalem to suffer and to die. What an inconsistency the tongue of man shows!
- Source. A spring gives what it holds; the tongue gives what the heart holds, and it cannot keep the secret for long.
- Opening. The mouth is the outlet, not the origin. Praise on Sunday and bitterness on Monday expose the same person.
- Two fountains. A believer has two natures. The old produces only evil, the new only good. The mixture comes from there.
- No excuse. The old nature was condemned at the cross, so its bitter water is to be treated as forbidden, not explained away.
- Sweet water. Kept in the company of the Lord Jesus, the same tongue that could curse becomes a channel of blessing to others.
Can, my brethren, a fig produce olives, or a vine figs? Neither [can] salt [water] make sweet water.
James has just described people whose mouths pour out blessing and cursing together. Now he points to the orchard and the spring, where nature never mixes its produce like that.
The examples are ordinary on purpose, and that is what gives the rebuke its force.
Here, as elsewhere, the plainness of the examples makes the rebuke stronger. Take the first one. Who ever heard of a spring pouring out sweet water and bitter water from the same opening? Nature itself condemns such a shameless mixture, and such contradictory results, in people who praise the Lord and the Father… here what is impossible in nature exposes and punishes the person whose conduct contradicts itself — worse in him, because he claims to belong to God and to enjoy His favour. Is the new nature to be disgraced by what the old nature everywhere refuses to do, fallen though it is?
Jesus used a picture of trees and fruit too. The two passages aim at different things.
The Lord was showing there that it is a mistake to expect good fruit from a bad tree. His servant James is doing something else. He wants to rebuke the glaring inconsistency of calling on the Lord of glory while indulging in evil speech, so he sets against it the natural impossibility of a tree bearing any fruit but its own. Both are plainly true, and each fits its purpose perfectly.
The same writer notes that the closing line is not a second mention of a fountain, as some older translations have it:
In 12 it is "a" fig tree, and the last clause does not speak of a fountain, like the Received Text and Authorised Version, but says, with the Revisers, neither can salt water yield sweet.
James is not describing outsiders here. He is describing people who really do praise God.
People who are not converted do not bless God, the Father. They do not know God at all, and they know Him as Father even less. Christians know Him and bless Him as Father. Yet there are times when words of quite the opposite kind come out of their lips. Sometimes they even go so far as to curse people who are made in the likeness of God. So blessing and cursing come out of the same mouth. No wonder James says so forcefully, "My brothers, these things ought not to be so."
If nature never does this, how can a believer? The answer offered is that the Christian carries something no fig tree carries.
First, they were sinful creatures to begin with, with an evil nature, just like everyone else. Second, they have now been born again, so they now have a new nature. The old nature has not been removed. So inside them there are, if we may put it this way, two fountains. One can only produce evil, the other can only produce good. That is where this strange mixture comes from, and the Apostle condemns it strongly.
That explanation does not remove our responsibility. Another writer notes what James leaves out:
In verses 11 and 12 James appeals to creation itself to show how consistent it is, in contrast to the ugly treachery of the tongue… note that James speaks only of what is seen from the outside. Elsewhere we are told why both good and evil come from the same person… James does not speak of that reason. He puts the responsibility where it belongs: on our own shoulders. So although the tongue cannot be tamed, we are still called to govern it.
The rule that limits a tree also marks out a Christian.
Every seed, as we know, brings forth the plant and the fruit that are proper to it. As James has said, a fig tree cannot bear olives, nor a grapevine figs. So a Christian is marked by what is Christian, and by nothing else… The apostle will not dishonour the Father by treating anything as the fruit of new birth unless it is worthy of Him.
James says no one can tame the tongue. That limit is not the end of the matter.
Even if no one can restrain the tongue, the grace of Christ can do it. On one side the inner man is under the yoke of the Lord, and is meek and lowly in heart. Christ fills the heart. And because the tongue follows the impulses of the heart, the speech will express that same meekness and lowliness… it is very useful to see that the tongue shows what is working inside, just as the hands of a clock show the hidden workings of its wheels.
- Nature. A spring, a fig tree and a vine each give one thing only — their own. Creation keeps the rule that their speech was breaking.
- Contradiction. The people rebuked are people who really do bless God; the shame is that cursing comes out of the same mouth.
- Cause. Two fountains sit in one believer: an old nature that can only produce evil, and a new one that can only produce good.
- Character. The seed God plants brings forth its proper fruit, so a Christian is marked by what is Christian and nothing else.
- Cure. No one can tame the tongue, but the grace of Christ can. A heart filled with Christ speaks with His meekness, because the tongue shows what is working inside.