Slow to Speak, Quick to Listen

Ever said something you regretted? Of course you have. We’ve all done it.

Ever had the opportunity to immediately take it back? Not likely, unless, of course, you said it on Twitter.

Twitter is a social media platform that allows people to dump their thoughts on the world in 280 characters or less. It used to be 140 characters, but last year the platform expanded that capacity because, well, people wanted to have more opportunity to speak their minds and, sometimes, put their digital foot in their mouth.

The instant nature of Twitter allows someone to run at the mouth (er, keyboard) immediately in response to something they’ve read, seen or experienced. Sometimes that means that one’s fingers engage faster than one’s brain. The result is often a major faux pas that is very public. If you’re quick enough, however, you can immediately delete the tweet and pull back your verbal misstep.

This happened when the U.S. Department of Education posted a tweet in which a word was misspelled. This is not good. We’re talking about the U.S. Department of Education! The tweet was deleted, and then reposted as follows: “Post updated — our deepest apologizes for the earlier typo.”  Oops again.

Efforts to delete a dumb tweet notwithstanding, we are often prone to saying things without thinking first, whether online or in person. James addresses this human tendency to let loose talk run rampant, even in the pre-Twitter world of the first century.

James wrote his epistle to Jewish Christians in a tense situation. Economic problems in the Roman world, in-fighting among different factions of Jews and the growing revolutionary resistance of the Zealots in Judea had put everyone on edge. In just a few years after James wrote these words, a powder keg of violence would be lit when the Zealots revolted against Rome in A.D. 66. It was a disaster, culminating in the fall of Jerusalem and the destruction of the temple. James’ concern is to help his brothers and sisters in “the Dispersion” live with integrity and represent Christ in a world that seemed to be going off the rails. Like their ancestors in the Exile, these new Christians needed to learn how to live as aliens in a foreign land.

It’s little wonder, then, that one of James’ primary concerns is the use of words. In a volatile environment, the wrong word can be the match that lights the fuse of violence, strife and misunderstanding. “The tongue is a fire,” says James, that “is itself set on fire by hell” (v. 6). Unlike a tweet that can be deleted, thus potentially limiting the damage, the wrong word said in the wrong situation can create an uncontrollable blaze that will consume a community and cause irreparable harm.

James begins this section by warning teachers, who are really masters of words, about the potential for their words to cause problems that lead to error. “Not many of you should become teachers,” says James, “for you know that we who teach will be judged with greater strictness” (v. 1). Teachers who use bad grammar, misspell words and give false information reveal their incompetence and inattention to detail. Teachers are held, understandably, to a higher standard. We expect tweets coming from the U.S. Department of Education to be grammatically pristine.

Of course, mistakes happen. All of us make them, and James acknowledges that (v. 2). Ideally, however, we should aspire to speaking and teaching with precision. When our words are sound, the whole “body” comes into line, just like a horse is controlled by a bit and bridle, and like a ship is controlled by a rudder (vv. 3-4). On the other hand, if these small controlling mechanisms are used incorrectly, they can lead the whole community to a destructive destination (v. 5).

Instead, James says, we need to pay attention to the source of our words — to consider our internal thought processes from which our words spring forth. If a spring is full of fresh water, it won’t be pumping out nasty, undrinkable liquid (v. 11).

So, how do we prime the pump? How can we learn to “tame” our tongues to speak in ways that edify instead of sparking dissension and destruction?

Well, as James implies, it begins with considering how we think before we speak. That’s an especially important skill in a world where Twitter storms and nasty rhetoric seem to be the norm. As Christians, we need to uphold a different way of speaking that is controlled and that emerges from the deep well of God’s wisdom.

In other words, we need to engage the brain and the Spirit before we engage the tongue.

A recent book by Baylor University professor Alan Jacobs offers great advice for how to repair the connection between the brain and the tongue. When someone posts an outrageous tweet, we’re prone to wonder, “What were they thinking?”

Chances are, they weren’t.

Jacobs suggests that we all need to relearn how to think before we engage the process of how to speak. In his book, How to Think: A Survival Guide for a World at Odds, Jacobs seems to be building on James’ advice when he offers his “Thinking Person’s Checklist” of good things to remember before we engage our tongues. While Jacobs lists 12 ideas for better thinking, they can be grouped into two main categories.

First, be slow. In a world of instant messaging, Twitter and sound bites, it’s tempting to react quickly when confronted with an idea or a provocation. The reptilian brain wants to immediately fight or flee (or, in the case of Twitter, retweet or bang out a 280-character response). But Jacobs suggests that when we’re tempted to respond quickly we should, instead, give it five minutes. Take a walk, make dinner, do some deep breathing — whatever it takes to get your body involved. When our bodies are moving, our brains tend to have time to process.

Forgo the need for an instant response to that nasty email or “idiotic” tweet. Consider not responding at all. Good and wise thinkers focus on thinking and responding about the right things, not about every thing. As James says earlier in his letter: “Let everyone be quick to listen, slow to speak, slow to anger; for your anger does not produce God’s righteousness” (1:19).

Second, be teachable. Jacobs suggests that one of the reasons we are so quick to respond to things in a Twitter culture is that others are watching and we want to impress our like-minded friend group. He calls this group our “Inner Ring” and we get good vibes from those folks when we trash an opposing group, which Jacobs calls the “Repugnant Cultural Other.” When we’re focused on the Inner Ring, however, it’s then that our speech becomes caustic.

The truth is, however, that we can all learn from others, even from those with whom we disagree. The key is found in choosing good conversation partners. There are plenty of “trolls” out there, particularly on social media, who simply want to stir the pot. But as the old adage says: “Don’t wrestle with pigs. You only end up getting dirty while the pig enjoys it.” Avoid those who fire off ideas like missiles and, instead, seek out the best and fairest-minded of people with whom you disagree. Assume the best of people. You may believe they are wrong, but that doesn’t mean you get to categorize them as evil. After all, remember, you are often wrong, too (v. 2). Building caricatures of others and their ideas is a poor use of our intellectual capital. Value learning over debating. So be slow to respond.  And listen and learn in order to understand.

This is helpful wisdom and sage advice in an age where good thinking and speaking are in short supply. Words matter, so let us think and speak slowly and clearly, whether it’s with our mouths – or with our keyboards.