Powerful Wisdom

Scripture can be found here and here

Who can complete this sentence: “Sticks and stones may break my bones, but….”

 

(Names will never hurt me.)

 

I’m not surprised—of course we all know that one.

 

Who can tell me where you first learned that little saying? Home? School? Parent? Friend?

 

It seems to me, no matter who you are, no matter how old, this has become one of those tidbits of wisdom we teach our children early. We tell them, words can’t really hurt you. Except, we’re wrong. As every single child who’s ever been bullied can tell you, this simply is not true.

 

James also begs to differ.

 

We have two readings this morning that are concerned with imparting wisdom, and they both come on strong. Woman Wisdom pulls no punches. If we are going to ignore her urgent message, she has names she’s ready to call us, and she’s going to laugh when life takes us down. But Wisdom is a life and death matter. As she puts it, “For waywardness kills the simple, and the complacency of fools destroys them” (Proverbs 1:32).

 

But if we want to immerse ourselves in a truly practical application of wisdom, James is our man. The brother of Jesus wants to talk to us about talk. Speech. How, in fact, words can cause harm—maybe not physical harm, as with sticks and stones or knives and guns. But real harm, nonetheless. He embarks on an extended metaphor about the tongue—it’s one small part of the body, but it can, in his words, start a fire.

 

How many of us carry a memory of something truly awful that was said to us? I’m not asking anyone to share their own personal painful memory, but isn’t the use of “fire,” or “poison” apt here? Cruel words can get lodged in our psyches, take root in our hearts, a little toxic ember that burns and stings any time we are reminded of it. In the worst case scenario, they can actually alter the way we think of ourselves, erode our confidence, undermine our sense of well-being. If the words come from someone with whom we have an important relationship—parent or child, spouse or good friend, employer, supervisor, work colleague—words can cause damage that may be irreparable. As a fire actually changes the physical composition of what it burns, harsh, unkind, wrong words can change relationships forever.

 

I think we also need to remember the role of language, the role of the word, in the Jewish context, which is James’ context. Words are seen as innately powerful. In the beginning, all was formless and void; and then God spoke a word, saying, “Let there be light.” And there was light. The spoken word of God causes creation. The word is not just print on a page, scratches on papyrus, or carving in stone. The word is an actor in the world. The word makes and unmakes, it binds and looses. Even nature is seen as being endowed with speech, if we can only attune ourselves to its language. For James to be concerned with the ways in which we speak to one another is intimately connected to his understanding of the power and importance of the word, from the beginning.

 

Summarizing his frustration, James writes,

 

With [the tongue] we bless the Lord and Father, and with it we curse those who are made in the likeness of God. From the same mouth come blessing and cursing. My beloveds, this ought not to be so.  ~James 3:9-10

 

He’s saying the spiritual equivalent of “You kiss your mother with that mouth?” But James has given us what might well be the key to taming the “world of iniquity” that words used in anger or hurt can cause. It’s that phrase, “those made in the likeness of God.”

 

That’s what we want to hold onto. Every single person we meet, whether in Price Chopper or in Church or in the Comments section, is made in the image and likeness of God. We’re told that right from the beginning. Again, right in the middle of the great liturgy that is the Creation story, God muses to Godself, “Let us make humankind in our image, according to our likeness,” and in the next verse, God does just that.

 

But what does it mean to be made in God’s image and likeness? It’s probably easier to saw what it doesn’t mean. It doesn’t mean we look like God. It doesn’t mean we think like God (God is really clear about that throughout scripture). It doesn’t mean we are powerful like God. It certainly has nothing to do with gender, though some of the most enduring fights Christians have with one another have to do with God’s pronouns. (I have told you, haven’t I, about the time I had the kids in the children’s message pray to “Our Mother” instead of “Our Father”—and the entire congregation—which shall remain nameless-- emitted an audible gasp?) Rabbi Danya Ruttenberg says, God’s pronouns are “God.”

 

So what does it mean to be made in the image and likeness of God? According to Presbyterian Great-Great-Great grandpa John Calvin, it means that we are “endowed with wisdom, righteousness, and holiness.” These attributes are innate to human beings, and, when given the opportunity, they can flourish in us. Of course, Calvin also says that sin obscures this pretty effectively. We often can’t see the image of God in one another, and it’s no wonder.

 

It’s not easy to do, but we have to start trying, so that when we do encounter other humans we can treat them with the dignity they deserve. Whether or not we feel like it. Whether or not those attributes are shining through. But you know, I have a hunch—when we treat people as if they do have those attributes? That’s exactly when they begin to shine through.

 

I suspect each one of us has our memories of words that hurt, and words with which we have hurt others. You know the saying—hurt people hurst people. So, I close with a prayer, for all of us.

 

God our Creator, you loved us into being with the words of your mouth, and you endowed us with your own precious image and likeness. But we have been quick to harm one another with words, instead of treating them as the brilliant and creative vehicles they are. And so we ask for your healing. As each of us calls to mind words that have hurt us, we ask you to lighten them, to bathe them in the balm of your love, and to help us to release them now. And, as each of us calls to mind words with which we have caused pain, we ask you to enter the hearts of each person we have wounded. We ask you to repair the harm we have done, to bathe those wounded hearts with your love, and to open doors to mend relationships. We pray to you, because our lives are in your hands. Thanks be to you, O God. Amen.