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).
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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.