Tone Deaf Communication
Robert Frost once observed, “Half the world is comprised of people who have something to say but can’t, and the other half who have nothing to say and keep on saying it.”
No matter on which side of that equation you find yourself, words matter: They are the stuff of the heart. Hearts are the stuff of relationships, and relationships are the stuff of life. The power of life and death, therefore, lies in the tongue. We need great wisdom to use that slippery member properly. May God give us grace.
To that end, Paul’s words to the Christians in Ephesus are always worth a gander.
“Let no corrupting talk come out of your mouths, but only such as is good for building up, as fits the occasion, that it may give grace to those who hear. And do not grieve the Holy Spirit of God, by whom you were sealed for the day of redemption. Let all bitterness and wrath and anger and clamor and slander be put away from you, along with all malice. Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ forgave you.” (Ephesians 4:29–32, ESV).
Paul contrasts two different types of words: The kind that are grace-giving, that build other people up in their heart, soul, and mind; and the kind that are rotten (IE that tear others down, robbing them of grace and the encouragement to grow in their Christian faith). The Apostle’s counsel is clear: “We will have NONE of the one thank you very much; I only want to hear the other.”
Rotten words wreak havoc on two levels. They destroy relationships on earth, but they also reverberate through the throne room of heaven, grieving the Spirit of God. That is an amazing statement: even the words of justified Christians can grieve the Holy Spirit of God. If that doesn’t stop you dead in your tracks, and cause you to take a long hard listen at the way you speak to (and about) your spouse, your children, and your neighbor, I don’t know what will. I am not sure how these words sit with you, but I don’t mind admitting: I am feeling sorely convicted as I type.
What kinds of rotten words should we avoid? Paul gives us a list. We should avoid bitter words. The Greek word denotes that which leaves a bitter taste in the mouth. Referring to the human heart, the commentators tell us bitterness describes, “a state of sharp, intense resentment or hate.” We have all used these kinds of words—jabbing words that vent a rotten attitude towards or about a brother or sister.
Second, we should avoid wrathful words. Wrath denotes a state of intense fury associated with passionate, raging outbursts. Paul’s next word, anger, adds the additional note of a settled disposition of animosity.
Paul’s fourth word (translated as clamor in many of the English versions) denotes loud, angry speech. Christians should not raise their voices in arguments. Nothing is gained by it. As a rule, we generally raise the volume to talk over another person, which is never helpful.
Paul’s penultimate adjective, slander, describes speech that needlessly assassinates another man’s character. Interestingly, the Greek word is related to the English term “blasphemy.” When we slander another person’s character, therefore, we fail to give due weight to their status as imago Dei. To some extent, Paul seems to be suggesting, such words are a kind of blasphemy.
Paul’s final term to describe rotten speech is “malice.” Here are the kinds of words we use in a deliberate effort to cause another pain and heartache. Such words thrust like a sword; they are never righteous.
Did you notice that Paul begins this list with the phrase, “Let all….. be put away from you….” This is significant. It is never acceptable for a Christian to speak this way. It can never be justified.
Instead, our relationships with others should be marked by words of kindness, tenderheartedness, and forgiveness. We should treat others this way because this is the way God continues to treat us.
In our sermon on Sunday morning, we will look together at Jesus’ institution of the Lord’s Supper. Mark flanks this story with Jesus predicting his disciples’ betrayal, denial, and desertion. The warm heart of our Savior is on display here for all to see. We may forsake Him, but He will never forsake us. Our love is short-lived like a morning mist, His shines forever like the sun. Our love is like a shallow puddle of raw sewage. His is a boundless, fathomless ocean with neither ebb nor flow. If we want to learn to speak a way we have never spoken before, we must sit and rest awhile ‘neath the feet of Jesus. Only the sweetness of His heart can heal the bitterness of our own.
All that to say: we should listen to our words. God does. Jesus says, they are the exhaust pipe of our hearts. When we speak to others, we also speak about ourselves.
This week I read Jonathan Holmes’ new book, “Counsel for Couples.” He had this to say about that dynamic: “This teaching goes directly against what most spouse will tell you in marriage counseling. “If Kyle actually listened to what I said, I wouldn’t have to yell!” “If Laura didn’t keep nagging and pressing me to talk, I wouldn’t lose my patience with her.” “I have to get angry with Carolyn so she actually pays attention to what I have to say.” “Stephen only understand one language: condescending. You get what you give, so I don’t know why he is so surprised when we fight.””
Notice each of these statements comes with an implicit theology (we are all theologians, and often not very good ones at that): My ungodly speech is because of your ungodly speech. If Jesus is correct, and of course He is, this absolutely wrong: My ungodly speech is because of my ungodly heart. I cannot blame you for what just came out of my mouth. Your sin might very well have unlocked the door of my lips. But what came out was already inside, waiting for an opportunity to reveal itself.