The Bridle and the Horse (3:2b-3)

The man who does control his tongue is able to bridle the whole body also (cf. 1:26), for the body goes with the tongue. In fact, nothing is commoner than for one to make a rash statement and then feel compelled to stand by it for the sake of imaginary consistency. Hort keenly observes that the force of “also” after “the whole body” is that a man who can bridle his tongue can bridle his whole body. The tongue is a real Bucephalus, and it takes an Alexander to master him. It is really wonderful how a spirited, impetuous horse can be subdued by bit and bridle. The spirit does not go out of the horse, but his restless energy is under control and guidance.

James does not mean that a man should be dumb and lifeless, without ambition and power, but simply that his tongue, like all the rest of the body, should be kept in control. This figure of bridling the tongue, as already noted (1:26), is one of the most vivid figures in all languages. David said: “I will take heed to my ways, that I sin not with my tongue: I will keep my mouth with a bridle” (Psalm 39:1).

It is not merely that the tongue is so hard to put a bridle on but also that the tongue has such an influence on the whole body, able thus to lead the body by the bridle.[76] The horse has to follow his mouth, in which the bridle is placed. The purpose of the bridle is that the horses may obey us, and it is thoroughly successful, as a rule. “We turn about their whole body also” along with the mouth. So we should place bridles in our mouths for the deliberate purpose of controlling the tongue. It will not happen by accident.

We are to repress the impulsive and petulant word. Thus we train our own tongues and make it easier to subdue the other members of the body. One member cannot be allowed to lead the whole body into sin. Pluck it out, if it be the right eye or the right hand (Matt. 5:29). The members of the body are all so related as to be affected by what the others experience. “The eye cannot say to the hand, I have no need of thee” (1 Cor. 12:21). Without this bridle on the tongue there is no true self-control. A tongue loose at both ends means a man whom everyone shuns as a nuisance. If the bridle is good for the horse, it is far more so for the man. The difference is that the man has to put the bridle into his own mouth and in dual capacity as rider and horse master himself, the most unmanageable of steeds.

A garrulous man is a bore at best, while a woman with a sharp tongue is a terror to the community. Tell no secrets to a talkative man, and few to anyone save your wife. A man who talks to hear himself talk will be sure to tell what he ought not to say. The writer of Hebrews refuses to go on with too many details about his heroes of faith, “for the time will fail me if I tell” (Heb. 11:32), “time will leave me telling.” If the audience held the bridle, the preacher might stop sooner. The phonograph can be turned off at will, permitting only so much “canned” talk at a time. And yet talk is one of the most delightful things in all the world. But there can be too much of a good thing, if, forsooth, it is good. There are few greater nuisances than the interrupter, who breaks into a conversation with no regard for the courtesies of the occasion. He is as bad as the man who monopolizes the conversation and allows no one else to talk at all. He needs a stopper, not a bridle, in his mouth.

The Rudder and the Ship (3:4)

With great wealth of imagination James proceeds to illustrate still further the power of the tongue over the rest of the body. The point is clear from the illustration of the bridle and the horse, but it is made still clearer by the other figures. The importance of the subject justifies this piling up of metaphors. “This combination of the horse’s bridle and the ship’s rudder as illustrative of the tongue is found” (Hort) in Philo and Plutarch. “The argument is À fortiori from the horse to the man, and still more from the ship to the man, so that the whole forms a climax, the point being throughout the same, namely, the smallness of the part to be controlled in order to have control over the whole” (Plummer).

The horse is an irrational creature and yet can be managed by the bridle. The ship has no mind at all and yet is moved “by a very small rudder,” “turned about,” “whither the impulse of the steersman willeth.” The “impulse” may be like “the rush of water” in Proverbs 21:1, which is there compared to the king’s heart, for God “turneth it whithersoever he will,” or like the rush or onset of the Gentiles and Jews to injure Paul in Iconium (Acts 14:5). Here it is the gentle pressure or touch of the hand of the steersman who guides the ship on its course straight ahead, as he decides (intention, purpose rather than mere will).[77]

The complete mastery of the steersman over the ship is accented by a comparison of the size of the ancient boats with horses. “Behold, even the ships” (probably we are to translate “even” rather than “also”), which, though they are so great (cf. 2 Cor. 1:10), “are yet turned about by the impulse of the steersman,” even when they are being driven by rough winds (if here again we translate “even” instead of “also”). One is reminded of the boat in which Jesus and the disciples were crossing the Sea of Galilee “now in the midst of the sea, distressed by the waves” (Matt. 14:24). The “rough winds” (cf. Prov. 27:16), “stiff winds” (Moffatt), were particularly dangerous for the small (from our standpoint) ships of the ancients. But the steersman could hold to his course even over a rough sea.

The point of James about the size of the ships would apply with far more force today, when modern leviathans of the deep plow the waters. There is now less peril from the stiff winds, but there is all the more ground for wonder that the tiny rudder can control at will the giant of the ocean. The steersman can drive the mighty monster straight upon an iceberg and sink it in a few minutes, as in the crash of the Titanic. Great as the ship is, the silent forces of nature are still greater. Man has not yet mastered all the powers of nature. But the ship, blind to its fate, responded to the will of the steersman, who dashed against the iceberg.

The lesson is only too obvious. One must watch the tongue if he is to avoid shipwreck. The tongue may dash the whole life in blind rage against God. The ship is one of the most beautiful of objects as it rides the waves in proud majesty. But more beautiful still is a life that is not marred by bad or bitter words. Plutarch (De Garrulitate, 10) says that speech beyond control is like a ship out at sea, broken loose from its moorings.

The Fire and the Forest (3:5 f.)

The power of the tongue over the body in general is shown by the bridle and the rudder. Now the power of the tongue for evil is specifically illustrated by the metaphor of fire. True, the tongue is a little member, and yet it “boasteth great things,” “can boast of great exploits” (Moffatt).

It is not a mere empty boast that the tongue can make. It is hard to exaggerate the power of the tongue, which is able to sway great multitudes for good or ill, to stir the wildest passions of man to uncontrollable fury, or to exalt men to the highest emotions of their natures. The tongue can soothe the dying or damn the living. The tongue can sing like a songbird or growl like a lion. The tongue can speak words of tenderest love or of venomous hate. It can speak like a megaphone in trumpet tones or in a whisper almost inaudible save to an eager ear. Plummer tells the story of Amasis, king of Egypt, who sent a sacrifice to Bias the sage with the request that he send back the best part and the worst. He sent back the tongue.

James adds, “Behold, how much wood is kindled by how small a fire,” “what a forest is set ablaze by a little spark of fire” (Moffatt). The figure is that of timber or woodland rather than a pile of wood. Mayor quotes Milton: “Into what pit thou seest from what height fallen.” The inflammatory Oriental audience with the high pitch of voice, confusion of tongues, and wild gesticulation is aptly compared to a forest fire (Oesterley).[78]

There is pathos in the dreadful forest fires that annually devastate our country. The damage each year amounts to several hundred millions of dollars, besides the injury to future generations in the loss of the blessings in many ways from the forests. In most instances these forest fires, which rage with uncontrollable fury when the wind gets up, are due to accident or mischief. A spark from an engine, a cigarette thrown in the leaves, a burning match cast to one side by a hunter, a smoldering campfire, a shot from a gun—these and other like causes explain most of the conflagrations.

The situation is so serious that the national government has a fire patrol to guard the forest reserves. Once a prairie fire starts there is hardly any stopping it till it burns out. Mice and matches cause over twelve hundred fires each year in New York City. Only a start is needed, a start long enough to get beyond control, and we have the horrible holocausts of Chicago, Baltimore, Boston, San Francisco. “A burning fire kindles many heaps of corn” (Sir. 11:32). The scholiast on this verse adds, “There is nothing which more devastates the world than an evil tongue.” Nero set fire to Rome to see the grandeur of the spectacle, and he fiddled while the city burned. Similar irresponsibility is seen often in the reckless use of the tongue. We should not light a fire which can blaze beyond our control.

So James adds, “And the tongue is a fire.” See Proverbs 16:27, “And in his lips there is a scorching fire.” Compare Sirach 28:21-23. “The effect is that of an underground flame, concealed for a while, then breaking out afresh” (Carr). Indeed, “the world of iniquity among our members is the tongue,” “the tongue proves a very world of mischief among our members” (Moffatt). The tongue was made for good use and in itself is good, but it has been prostituted to evil. So here the very word for “is” (cf. 4:4, “maketh himself”) brings out this distinction. The tongue “is constituted” so, is not so by nature. Now we say that a man’s tongue has run away with him. The tongue has made a career for itself, “the world [realm] of iniquity,” “the unrighteous world” (Hort). It was made the best of members but has run riot till it has become the personification of injustice and all sorts of wrong. The Vulgate has it here universitas iniquitatis rather than mundus. One thinks of our use of “university,” a world in itself for good or ill.

Jesus spoke of “the mammon of unrighteousness,” “the judge of unrighteousness.” So the tongue represents the world of iniquity and has become “the chief channel of temptation from man to man” (Mayor). “They set their mouth against the heavens, and their tongue walketh through the earth” (Psalm 73:9, AV). This microcosm epitomizes the macrocosm of evil. Bengel has it a macrocosmo ad microcosmum. The evil wrought by the tongue ramifies through the whole of society and goes on and on in its deadly influence.

It “defiles the whole body,” “staining the whole of the body” (Moffatt).[79] The Vulgate has maculat. Jesus had said, “That which proceedeth out of the mouth, this defileth the man” (Matt. 15:11). At first James seems to overstate the matter, but modern science reinforces his point. It is now known that angry words cause the glands of the body to discharge a dangerous poison that affects the stomach, the heart, the brain. The effect is usually temporary but sometimes fatal. It is literally true that such choler defiles the whole body. Hate has the same effect. The chameleon changes color according to its emotions and environment. The tongue not only commits evil by lying, by defending sin, and by leading to sin, but it leaves a deadly stain in the very body and soul of the one who misuses it. “It is the palmary instance of the principle that the best when perverted becomes the worst—corruptio optimi fit pessima” (Plummer).

The tongue “setteth on fire the wheel of nature,” “setting fire to the round circle of existence” (Moffatt), “the whole circle of innate passions” (Oesterley), “the wheel of man’s creation” (Hort, who adds “one of the hardest phrases in the Bible”), “the wheel of birth” like the Orphic mysteries (P. Gardner), “sets the whole creation in flames” (Johnstone). Perhaps the idea is that the tongue at the center (hub) of the wheel of nature sets on fire the rest of the wheel. One sees just this thing happen in a pyrotechnic display, where a wheel is set on fire in the center. The more it burns the faster it revolves, till the whole wheel whirls in a blaze of fire, spitting fire as it whirls. Certainly, the tongue can set fire to all the baser passions in the wheel of life, such as envy, jealousy, faction, anger, avarice, lust, murder. This fire spreads, not simply through the whole man, but may infect “various channels and classes till the whole cycle of human life is in flames” (Plummer). Its range of devastation frequently is wider than the life of the person who spoke.

It is not surprising that James adds, “and is set on fire by hell,” “with a flame fed by hell” (Moffatt), inflammata a gehenna (Vulgate). It is the devil, the slanderer par excellence, who sets on fire “the chariot-wheel of man as he advances on the way of life” (Hort). It is first inflamed by hell (place of the wicked, not the unseen world for all) and then inflames all the wheel of nature. The torch is lighted in hell, and the hellish flame kindles the tongue, which in turn sets fire to the whole nature. Thus the fire was started and is habitually replenished (the tense is imperfect). The Valley of Hinnom or Tophet was first just the type of the abode of the wicked, and then the continual fires kept burning there were transferred to the next world. (Cf. “the fire of Gehenna,” Matt. 5:22.)

But one must not forget that while the tongue can be set on fire of hell, it can also be touched by a live coal from God’s altar. Isaiah said, “Woe is me! for I am undone; because I am a man of unclean lips, and I dwell in the midst of a people of unclean lips: for mine eyes have seen the King, Jehovah of hosts. Then flew one of the seraphim unto me, having a live coal in his hand, which he had taken with the tongs from off the altar: and he touched my mouth with it, and said, Lo, this hath touched thy lips; and thine iniquity is taken away, and thy sin forgiven” (6:5-7).

Let us gain comfort from the experience of Isaiah in the contemplation of the solemn warning of James. One may note also that tongues as of fire sat on the heads of those who were filled with the Holy Spirit on the great day of Pentecost. The tongue can be set on fire of heaven and can pass on the holy fire of God from soul to soul, thus lighting the light of God in the human life.

Taming of Wild Beasts (3:7 f.)

James recurs to the beasts (cf. horse and bridle) for a broader discussion. The tongue is unbridled all too often and is the most unmanageable of wild animals. He had just said that the tongue is set on fire of hell. “The fact that the tongue is the one thing that defies man’s power to control it is a sign that there is something satanic in its bitterness” (Mayor). He uses the language of Oriental exaggeration in giving further proof of his strong statement, a justifiable hyperbole: “For every kind of beasts and birds, of creeping things and things in the sea, is tamed, and hath been tamed by mankind.” “The art of taming is no new thing, but has belonged to the human race from the first” (Mayor).

It is perhaps not strictly true that every conceivable animal has been subjected by man, but no one in the light of the past and the present can say that any animal is untamable. It is now a common enough thing to see in a wild animal show performing tigers, leopards, lions, elephants, monkeys, dogs, horses, parrots, seals, bears, and even serpents. It is not merely that wild animals may be domesticated (cf. the wolf and the dog), like the zebra and the wild turkey (America’s contribution to the world’s barnyard), but they may be taught to do acts and tricks that show rudimentary reasoning powers. The eye of man can subdue the lion, the tiger, and the serpent as Jesus subdued the untamable demoniac (Mark 5:4), “and no man had strength to tame him.” Man has proved his kingship over the other creatures as God gave him dominion (Gen. 1:26). In many cases animals have become so domesticated that they no longer feel at home elsewhere.

Man is proud of his lordship over beast and bird and over the forces of nature like wind and wave and electricity. Man can swim like a fish, can run like a deer, and can now even fly like a bird in the airplane with its artificial wings. He can talk without wires with unseen persons over thousands of miles. He can speed over land and sea like the wind. He can send a message around the earth with the swiftness of light.

But he cannot control his own tongue. “But the tongue can no man tame.” Here is the language of helplessness, as in the case of the demoniac in Mark 5:4. Strictly speaking, of course, the tongue is merely the organ of speech, and speech is under the control of the mind. By a bold figure James almost personifies the tongue as a separate personality. “It combines the ferocity of the tiger and the mockery of the ape with the subtlety and venom of the serpent” (Plummer). It is thus the very chimera of wild beasts!

This is the picture of the tongue in its natural state, the tongue of the unregenerate man. The Spirit of God can cleanse a man’s mouth of profanity and unclean speech. “Keep thy tongue from evil, and thy lips from speaking guile” (Psalm 34:13). Paul puts up the bars: “Nor filthiness, nor foolish talking, or jesting, which are not befitting” (Eph. 5:4). Once more he says: “Let no corrupt speech proceed out of your mouth” (4:29). Surely, if one has such an untamable little animal in his mouth as the tongue, he needs to watch it with ceaseless care. The evil of the tongue echoes and re-echoes through a community and often through the ages. The evil slander can never be stopped. The lie is fleet of foot and eludes truth in a race.

“It is a restless evil,” “plague of disorder that it is” (Moffatt), “a disorderly evil” (Hort), iniquitum malum (Vulgate). It is unstable and unreliable, inconsistent and quixotic. It can never be trusted to the full. It will turn on one when off guard, like the lion when the keeper turns his eye away. It can be brought under no rules that will work.