The significance of the word
By thy words thou shalt be justified, and by thy words thou shalt be condemned (Matt. 12:37)
Let the words of my mouth be acceptable in thy sight (Ps. 18:14)
An evil word turns even the good to evil, and a good word turns even the evil to good (St Macarius the Great)
Our dealings with our neighbours take place for the most part in conversation and in words.
But are we aware of the full measure of our responsibility before God for the words we speak?
The word is a conductor through which there pour into the soul not only thoughts and images but a stream of sensations, experiences, feelings and desires.
As the holy and righteous John of Kronstadt writes: “From the essence of the thinking soul is born the word, co-essential with it, which expresses the thought in itself and is equal to it; from the thought and through the thought proceeds the spirit, which rests upon the word and through the word is imparted to those who hear; this spirit is wholly equal both to the thought and to the word, and is co-essential with them. For example, in the words ‘I love you’ you see both the loving source and the word born of it, and at the same time you sense a kind of sweet breath of love.”
Here is what Father Pavel Florensky says of the word: “The word is an emanation (a radiation, a putting forth) of the human will; it is a putting forth of a man's soul, an independent centre of forces — as it were a living being, with a body woven of air and an inner structure — in the form of a sound wave.”
Everyone knows the power of the word spoken by the lips of eminent orators, tribunes and leaders of nations. The Lord Jesus Christ Himself, the Son of God, is called by His closest disciple, John the Evangelist, the incarnate Word — the Logos, Who “was in the beginning... with God” (John 1:1–2).
The word of the Lord has an extraordinary power: “Never man spake thus” (John 7:46), the Jews said of Him, “for his word was with power” (Luke 4:32). By this word the Lord raised the dead, worked miracles and transformed the souls of men.
By the word likewise act the holy apostles, who laid the foundation of the Church of Christ, and so too the whole numberless company of His (the Lord's) disciples, in every land and in every age.
In essence, the use of words differs in no way from deeds — from actions.
As St Theophan the Recluse writes: “In speaking you give birth to a word. You have uttered a word, and it will never die, but will live until the Dread Judgment. It will stand with you at the Dread Judgment and will be for you or against you.”
And Metropolitan Philaret of Moscow says: “The word of man can be sharpened like a sword, and then it wounds and kills; and it can be softened like oil, and then it heals.”
By the word it is possible to raise people up, to purify and ennoble them; it is possible to bring them faith, joy and courage, to make love and compassion grow in them, to grant the soul peace and quiet.
And conversely — by evil speech it is possible to kill and poison a soul, to infect it with every kind of passion, sin and vice, to corrupt innocent, pure hearts, to poison the life of those around us.
The apostle James writes: “If any man among you seem to be religious, and bridleth not his tongue... this man's religion is vain... the tongue is a little member, and boasteth great things... And the tongue is a fire, a world of iniquity: so is the tongue among our members, that it defileth the whole body... and it is set on fire of hell...”
“But the tongue can no man tame; it is an unruly evil, full of deadly poison. Therewith bless we God, even the Father; and therewith curse we men... Out of the same mouth proceedeth blessing and cursing” (James 1:26; 3:5–10). But it is not cursing alone that does harm to our neighbour.
If we had spiritual sight, we could see how poison pours from our lips as we talk.
Here we say a hurtful, venomous or rude word to our neighbour, and with it we fill his soul with bitterness, offence, vexation and irritation.
Here we tell a story (often a false one) that smears our neighbour, and this poison, which damages his good name, spreads all around him, poisons his life, disgraces him in the eyes of others, sets him at odds with them, makes trouble for him in life, and so on.
The harm of such words is plain. But here is another evil which we may sometimes fail to notice. In conversation we voice anxiety and fear over some affairs of this life, and our acquaintance goes away from us seized by little faith and by fear for his own lot, forgetting the Providence and mercy of God.
We tell of some people close to us — how cleverly they manage the affairs of life by means that are not altogether honest — and our neighbour is saddened and tempted. He thinks: “What a fool I am! I am so foolish and inexperienced in life. That is how one ought to live! And what is there here to beware of so particularly? Is the sin here so great? Everyone does it, after all?! Is it not true that ‘one must howl with the wolves’?” And the evil — the poison of cunning and craftiness — has passed through our lips into our neighbour's soul.
One nun used to tell how a person may be destroyed by a careless word: “You are riding in a tram and by carelessness you knock your shoulder against one of the passengers. He makes a curt remark to you. Instead of simply apologizing, you get irritated yourself and accuse him of clumsiness. An ordinary squabble on the tram has sprung up. But listen to what came of it. That passenger was on the edge of a breakdown and was fighting thoughts of suicide. This squabble deepened the anguish of his soul still further and, like the last drop on the scales, tipped his wavering in favour of suicide. He takes his own life — and you have joined the number of murderers.”
Here is Archbishop John's universal counsel on the use of words: “It is good to say nothing that it would be undesirable to leave for ever in another person's soul.”
Rebuking our idle talk, he wrote: “About what is empty we speak deeply (that is, at length), and about what is deep we speak emptily (that is, we do not know how to speak).”
