Words

We love a good speech. John Chrysostom, bishop of Constantinople in 407, was called the "Golden Mouth" because of his excellent sermons. People who came to hear him speak were advised to bring no money because they would become so intent on his words that they didn’t notice the pick-pockets.

Today, a pastor with excellent oratory skills can sometimes form a mega-church or gain a large following.

We join churches, follow leaders, vote for politicians based on their ability to woo our ear.

A writer long ago lamented the problem of golden speech. He saw no people loyal to God but rather unfaithful ones who lied, flattered and deceived - trusting their own words over any other.
"They say, 'Through our tongues we have power; our lips are our own—who can be our master?'" (Ps 12:2)

There's power in our words. James called the tongue a fire that no man can tame.

And there should be power because God breathed his own life into us. We know the power of God's word. We know, from John, that the Word was in the beginning and it was with God and it was God. (John 1:1)

Our psalmist had harsh words: "May the Lord cut off all flattering lips and the tongue that speaks boastfully." (Ps 12:3)

But he offered words of hope as well. God's words, he reminded us, are pure words - like silver refined in a furnace.

We live today in a cacophony of words, blasted by speeches and enticements to buy, to go, to follow.

God listens to the groans of the afflicted and poor rather than magnificent oratory.

What am I listening to?

The Dead Sea Principle

Sometimes you just gotta pull the plug. It’s a sordid tale in my life.

I spent many years polishing The Dead Sea Principle. Let me remind you about the Dead Sea. With salinity levels hovering between 30-35%, there are no fish or other sea animals. Little bacteria can even survive. In other words, there’s no life in the Dead Sea.

How did it get that way? Fresh water flows into the sea but there’s no outlet. Fresh water is changed to a stagnant saline solution as it’s stored there.

I tended my words the same way, pouring in a river of fresh water. I attended conferences, went to Bible studies, never missed a special speaker or a retreat. My car radio was tuned to Christian station and my friends were all believers.

Except one.

The water flowed in and the salt thickened.

One day, in a rush of spiritual energy, I decided to witness to my unbelieving friend. Flush with training from a new conference, I practiced my lines all the way to her house. I promised God I’d bring up the subject. I don’t remember praying for my friend but I did get my part memorized.

I did it. I got through the presentation. She listened politely and recited her part just like the conference teacher had suggested. (I don’t think she’d been at the conference…) In the end, she courteously told me that she had already figured out her own way to God and she’d just stick with that.

By my standards, I’d failed. But something interesting happened through that adventure. God pulled the plug on my Dead Sea. I was changed.

My outreach effort was stiff and formulaic, but I talked about my relationship with Jesus. It isn’t about a Roman road or debating points of doctrine. The Word had poured in to my life for many years but it was time to bless others with the grace, love and compassion I had received.

Did you know that you don’t need to swim in the Dead Sea? The salt level is so high you float on top. It’s safe and easy. But it’s dead.

Give me fresh water.

Do not let any unwholesome talk come out of your mouths, but only what is helpful for building others up according to their needs, that it may benefit those who listen.

Eph 4:29