A Perfect Man
“Not many of you should become teachers, my brothers, for you know that
we who teach will be judged with greater strictness. For we all stumble in many
ways. And if anyone does not stumble in what he says, he is a perfect man, able
also to bridle his whole body” (James 3:1-2).
Grace to you and peace
from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ!
There once was a man
who, while listening to a sermon in church was convicted of his sin, and he set
out to do better. “I have sinned against [God] in thought, word, and deed,” he’d
said week after week, but this day he especially sensed it was true. He
reasoned that his evil thoughts often caught him off guard and might be
difficult to change. His evil actions, he decided, were often a product of his
thoughts and words. So he would first focus on his words; his words were more
likely something he could change. If he could catch himself before he said
something he’d regret, he would also have more control over things he did and,
in time, perhaps eventually even over the things he thought.
For a while, the man
was very successful. He always took his time. He didn’t speak without first considering
what he would say. Oh, he wasn’t perfect, but then who is? As time went on,
though, he found himself back to his old habits. He hurt people with what he
said. He created problems for himself with what he said. “I’ll try even harder,”
he thought, and he committed himself to being more diligent. But the harder he
tried, the more he failed, or so it seemed. Finally, he gave up.
The story, really, is
the same for every one of us, isn’t it? The only question then is this: What do
we mean when we “give up”? Are we simply defeated? Or is there a “giving up”
that’s really moving forward?
Again this morning
(evening), the Epistle confronts Christians of every age—and so also each one
of us—with the inconsistencies between faith and actions. The warning we hear
this morning (evening) is very clear, and what’s also clear is that no one is immune.
“How great a forest is set ablaze by such a small fire! And the tongue is a
fire, a world of unrighteousness. The tongue is set among our members, staining
the whole body, setting on fire the entire course of life, and set on fire by
hell” (James 3:5b-6).
We need to respect the
mighty power of the words we speak. “Talk is cheap,” people say. “Sticks and
stones may break your bones but words will never hurt you.” James strongly
disagrees. Although words seem to be merely moving air, although the tongue is
just a three-inch muscle, wet, floppy, and only partially visible, it is
tremendously powerful. Like a tail that wags the dog, the tongue drives our
lives. James gives examples of little things that have big effects:
·
The
bit in horses’ mouths. That little piece of steel in a horse’s mouth, when
managed properly, can control a 1,500 pound animal with the lightest touch.
·
The
rudder on a ship. That little shaped plank, most invisible beneath the
waterline, enables a captain to control the course of an immense ship filled
with cargo, crew, and passengers.
·
A
spark in a forest. Under control, a spark can make a small fire to warm cold
travelers and cook their food. Out of control, a spark can cause an inferno that
can reduce thousands of acres of mighty trees to blackened, smoking stumps.
James thinks it urgent
that people learn to control their mouths, not only to avoid hurting other people
emotionally and spiritually. But an uncontrolled tongue can also turn on the
uncontrolled talker, corrupting the whole person, poisoning his or her mind,
and plunging the body into the dangers of the fires of hell.
In last week’s Epistle,
James addressed the issue of favoritism, but many of us may have dismissed
ourselves from those charges. “Not me; I would never show favoritism in church!”
But now, his charges run deep and should cut deep into the heart of everyone
who hears. Your tongue is an agent of harm. It is on fire with the fire of
hell. “For every kind of beast and bird, of reptile and sea creature, can be
tamed and has been tamed by mankind, but no human being can tame the tongue”
(James 3:7-8a).
No fallen human, not
one, is innocent—not you, not me, no one. And to drive the point home, James
reminds us of what we are all too capable of doing: we can sit here in the
Divine Service, praising our God in heaven, and then leave here cursing His
most precious creations—other people. We praise God one moment, and then the
next the very same tongue, can utter such filth about others and even to
others. “Look what he’s doing! What a hideous man! Look at her! Imagine what
God must think about her! O God, I thank you that I’m not like those people!”
St. Paul writes: “For
all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God” (Romans 3:23). James would
agree wholeheartedly. His proof is the tongue. His proof is your tongue. Ours
are tongues that cannot be tamed. Sure, we try. We try and we try. Just like
the man in the opening story, we put our mind to fixing the problem. After all,
we are children of God. Such a fiery tongue is not befitting us. Wouldn’t God
want us to tame it so that it speaks only words that glorify Him? Sure he
would. He does. But the harder, we try, it seems, the worse we do.
James offers the
hypothetical perfect man: “If anyone does not stumble in what he says, he is a
perfect man, able also to bridle the whole body” (James 3:2b). It is as if
James is saying, “If anyone could do this without flaw… well, that guy would be
perfect in every way, wouldn’t he?” But I am not a perfect man. Neither my
tongue nor my body is bridled. With St. Paul, I must confess: “Wretched man
that I am! Who will deliver me from this body of death?” (Romans 7:24).
So, is there nothing we
can do? Are we doomed to live this life in a never-ending battle against a
tongue that would just as soon destroy us as it would honor the God of our
salvation? Well, in a way, yes, and in another, no. The battle will go on for
each of us. But the very same words of the Epistle point us toward the victory
that is ours in the battle. The battles rage on, but the war is already over.
Listen again: “If anyone does not stumble in what he says, he is a perfect man,
able also to bridle His own body” (James 3:2b).
And here is the good
news of God’s grace toward imperfect men and women such as you and me—He sends
us the perfect man. Isaiah writes of Him:
For He grew up before Him like a
young plant, and like a root out of dry ground; He had no form or majesty that
we should look at Him, and no beauty that we should desire Him. He was despised
and rejected by men, a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief; and as one
from whom men hide their faces He was despised, and we esteemed Him not. Surely
He has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows; yet we esteemed Him stricken,
smitten by God, and afflicted. But He was pierced for our transgressions; He
was crushed for our iniquities; upon Him was the chastisement that brought us
peace, and with His wounds we are healed. All we like sheep have gone astray;
we have turned—every one—to his own way; and the Lord has laid on Him the
iniquity of us all. He was oppressed, and He was afflicted, yet He opened not His
mouth; like a lamb that is led to the slaughter, and like a sheep that before
its shearers is silent, so He opened not His mouth” (Isaiah 53:2–7).
There is one who
bridled his tongue and bridled his whole body. There is one who lived the
perfect life you and I cannot live. There is one who deserved none of what He received at the hands of
those who hung Him on the cross, but silently suffered every moment as He bore
the burden of our sinful tongues.
That perfect Man, our
Savior Jesus Christ, lived and died and rose exactly because our tongues are “a
fire, a world of unrighteousness” (James 3:6). He bridled His tongue even in
the face of death so that we might receive His righteousness as He now lives in
us. So we need not “give up,” not in the sense of living in despair or guilt.
Instead, we live as children of our heavenly Father. We live as those given the
inheritance of the only Son of God, who was silent on our behalf. We live by
giving in.
Talk is not cheap. Words
do wound. Words can build or destroy a person’s self-confidence. Words can turn
someone’s proud achievement into humiliation. Words can create or destroy
relationships. Words can spread hate or love. Words can sow truth or plant
lies. Words can cause suspicion or build trust. Words are powerful. But God’s
Word is even more powerful.
God’s Word is His means
to rescue people from hell. A sermon, a Bible study, a catechism lesson, or an
evangelism visit all look tame and ineffectual. But God’s power to save people,
to create and sustain saving faith, rides with words, with His spoken and
visible Word.
In the waters of Holy
Baptism, that fire that burns from your tongue was extinguished. The Word of
God that you hear fills your mind and your heart with the pure truth from God.
That Word replaces all of the “other words” and gives your tongue something righteous
to speak. As you receive the body and blood of Christ under the bread and the
wine, in your mouth and on your tongue, by faith, the wounds inflicted on you by the things you
say are healed. God’s grace is a saving flood that not even the fires of hell
can stand against. And what you are helpless against on your own, you conquer
in Christ.
There is no one perfect
except Jesus. You will try to bridle your tongue and your body and your mind,
but they will fail you. And though you will never stop trying, your trying must
now be in Christ—giving up on yourself and giving in to Him. In Him, you
receive the forgiveness of sins that goes beyond giving up. For, “all things
are possible for one who believes” (Mark 9:23b). What’s impossible for you,
perfection, is yours in Christ. In the forgiveness of your sins, God makes you perfect—and
thus renews you, strengthens you, and guides you according to His will.
Perfection comes only
through the one perfect man, Christ, but it does
come through Christ. In Christ, the story does not end for that man we heard of
at the beginning of the sermon, nor does it end for you, in despair and
uncertainty. In Christ, it ends in victory. “Wretched man that I am! Who will
deliver me from this body of death? Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our
Lord!” (Romans 7:24-25a). All is not lost, and your tongue, though it rages
with the fire of hell, will not condemn you. For Jesus’ sake, you are forgiven
for all your sins.
In the name of the
Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
Unless
otherwise indicated, all Scripture quotations are from the Holy Bible, English
Standard Version, copyright © 2001 by Crossway Bibles, a publishing ministry of
Good News Publishers. Used by permission. All rights reserved.
Based upon a sermon by Jeffrey W. Jordan, Concordia Pulpit Resources, Volume 22, Part 4, Series B, St. Louis, MO: Corcordia Publishing House.
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