The Power of Our Words

Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never harm me.

What a lie. A self-protective lie trying to insulate us against the pain we know words can inflict. I imagine if we all think about the wounds we’ve incurred in our lives, many have come from words . . . toxic, hurtful, violating words.

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the power of words. I think about the warning from James: How great a forest is set ablaze by a small fire! And the tongue is a fire. . . .a restless evil, full of deadly poison. (James 3: 5, 8) We’ve all witnessed the devastation wrought by careless, untrue, cruel words, whether delivered in remarks, tweets, or posts. I imagine we can all relate to this powerful prayer, offered by pastor Ted Loder,

Sometimes, Lord, it just seems to be too much,

too much violence, too much fear. . .

too much of words lobbed in to explode and

leaving shredded hearts and lacerated souls.

I’ve seen lists of accomplishments under Trump touting that we haven’t had a war these past four years. But how else would we characterize what’s going on among us as Americans? I appreciate President Biden naming the violence as such in his inaugural address, calling us to “end this uncivil war that pits red against blue, rural versus urban, conservative versus liberal,” to listen to one another, and to speak to one another with dignity and respect.

I know it’s easy to point the finger at others for using cruel, violent words, words that dehumanize or even demonize. Certainly there is plenty of blame to go around, and it seems we humans are primed from the get-go to pass the buck rather than take responsibility. Just think of that first exchange recorded in the Bible between God, Adam, Eve and the serpent in the garden . .

God: Have you eaten from the tree?

Man: But the woman you gave me made me do it.

Woman: The serpent tricked me to do it.

We call it a story about the original sin, but it is also a story about the original whataboutism. It reveals the truth that it’s painfully difficult to admit our own weakness (or that of one of our groups), to be held accountable for our own wrongdoing.

We have all eaten of the fruit (the fruit of naming good and evil at that). Passing the blame, pointing the finger, whataboutism, and mutual accusations of hypocrisy, are not serving us. In fact, it all just seems to do more harm. It’s like we’re all walking wounded, yet continuing to lash out with our own weaponized words.

How in the world do we move beyond the violence, the hate, the divisiveness that is poisoning our democracy? I know there are no easy or simple answers. I agree with those who say we cannot have meaningful healing or lasting unity without a serious reckoning and accountability for the damage done. But I also don’t see how we can have meaningful accountability while continuing to treat each other with such contempt, and doing further violence.

I do wonder how we each and all might take responsibility for our own hurtful words and actions. What if instead of pointing the finger, we looked in the mirror, and humbly asked, How have I contributed to the divisiveness, hostility, and verbal violence?

How have I used words to tear down, instead of build up?

How have I dehumanized, demonized or expressed contempt toward others

who do not look, speak, believe or vote like me?

How have I failed to see others as made in the image of God, beloved by God,

even when they are behaving badly?

Paul admonishes early Christians in Ephesus“Let no evil talk come out of your mouths, but only what is useful for building up, as there is need, so that your words may give grace to those who hear.” (Eph. 4:29) That is a tall order, especially these days. With social media, texting, email, and the like, we are lobbing more words into the universe than ever before, but often with a lot less awareness and intention. It is way easier to type something nasty in someone’s feed or in the comments section than it is to say the same thing to another human’s face.

How do we recommit to using our words for building up and giving grace? As powerful as words are for wreaking havoc, they can also heal and comfort, create and transform. They can be so nourishing and inspiring, igniting our imagination and hope for new ways of being. Who could listen to Amanda Gorman’s inaugural poem, The Hill We Climb, and not be moved by the power of her words and her gracious delivery of them?

I heard Anne Lamott speak this Fall, and she offered up a helpful acronym: WAIT - Why Am I Talking? (Or Typing or Texting or Tweeting) What if we paused to ask that before every post, every send? It has saved me from many a hurtful send, though sadly not all. We can all be moving, speaking and typing so fast and furiously these days that we forget to take care with our words.

Myself included. I really want my words to offer grace whether it’s the grace of comforting or the grace of challenging us toward more love. But I know sometimes I let them go too soon, without enough examination. Dear reader, I am sorry if my words have wounded you! I know sometimes people unsubscribe because they just get too many words, but I also take stock with every single one, wondering if could have said what I was trying to say in a more clear, healing, or inclusive way. I appreciate those who take the time to name any hurt caused or raise a question for clarification. That too feels like a gracious use of words.

With this opening of a new political chapter, I hope we can all make a fresh start. May we have the grace to realize the immense power of our words. May we pray and search for ways to speak truth in love, words that give grace and do no harm. May we speak words that heal---simple, sometimes nearly impossible sentences, like “I am sorry,” and “I forgive you,” questions like “How are you really?’ and “How can I help?”

I heard somebody say recently (sorry I cannot remember who!): it’s like we’ve all been saying, “Let there be peace on earth, and let it begin with them.” But we know the fallacy of that, don’t we? The truth is, peace must begin with us, and it is on the tips of our tongues and our fingertips, if we have the grace to recognize the power of our words.

Humbly seeking a better way,

Kimberly