In a country churchyard in England stands a drab, gray slate tombstone that shows the ravages of time. Leaning slightly to one side, the epitaph can only be read if you stoop over and look very closely. It says: “BENEATH THIS STONE, A LUMP OF CLAY, LIES ARABELLA YOUNG, WHO, ON THE TWENTY-FOURTH OF MAY, BEGAN TO HOLD HER TONGUE.”
What an unusual legacy to leave the world! The thing that stood out most about her life is that her tongue was no longer in motion. To a physician the tongue is a two-ounce slab of mucous membrane enclosing a complex array of muscles and nerves that enable our bodies to chew, taste and swallow.
Without a tongue no mother could sing her baby to sleep at night. No ambassador could adequately represent his nation. No teacher could instruct her students. No attorney could defend his client in court. No pastor could stand behind the pulpit and preach the unsearchable riches of God’s grace. The entire human race would be reduced to unintelligible grunts and shrugs. We give very little thought to just how valuable this very important muscle is to everything we humans do in life.
Even so, the tongue is as volatile as it is vital. For example, Washington Irving said, “A sharp tongue is the only tool that grows keener with constant use.” God’s Word puts it this way, “The tongue is a fire . . . a restless evil and full of deadly poison” (James 3:6, 8). Used without both care and concern it can be a flaming missile which assaults with tremendous power, leaving damage in its wake.
I remember a woman in my small hometown in Georgia in the late 1930’s who would make the rounds in our neighborhood very early in the morning. The things she had heard in one home, especially if it involved information that fits under the classification of gossip, she would tell to other neighbors. When she spilled the beans she had heard from other neighbors, she would say to my mother, “For God’s sake, don’t dare to tell anybody that I told you that.” She didn’t want you to spread the news. She was planning to do that herself.
The Bible makes it clear that the tongue is hard to tame, and can be untamable. We can tame Flipper and Trigger and Shamu and Lassie. We can tame falcons to land on our wrists, pigeons to carry our messages, dogs to fetch the morning paper, elephants to stand on rolling balls, lions to sit on stools, porpoises to jump through hoops, and horses to do many different kinds of tricks. But the tongue is impossible to train.
Publius, the Greek sage, once said: “I have often regretted my speech, but never my silence.” King David put it even more bluntly: “I will guard my ways that I may not sin with my tongue; I will guard my mouth as with a muzzle” (Psalm 39:1). He knew that the muscle in your mouth often needed to be put in jail. Harnessing the tongue requires that we ask God to help us do the following three things:
- Think first. Before your lips start moving, pause ten seconds to mentally preview the words you intend to use. Are they accurate or exaggerated? Kind or cutting? Necessary or needless? Wholesome or noxious? Grateful or complaining?
- Talk less. The human tongue is only a few inches from the brain, but when you listen to some people talk, the two seem to be miles apart. Your chances of doing damage are directly proportional to the amount of time your mouth is open. Try closing it for a while.
- Start today. A tongue four inches long can kill a person six feet tall. There may be times you should lock the muzzle on your mouth. You will not regret it. Arabella Young waited too long!