Care in our Speech

Homily for the 8th Sunday in Ordinary Time

One of the curiosities that appears in the Hebrew language is that the word “dabar” means both “word” and “deed.” Words identify our deeds, and our deeds are expressions of the words that are formulated first in our minds and then on our lips. The fact that one and the same word can be used for either words or deeds shows us the value placed on integrity of speech in Jewish spirituality.

Both the first reading and the Gospel today offer proverbs and admonitions, several of which center on how a person’s speech reveals their inner nature. A bad tree does not bear good fruit, nor does a good tree yield bad produce. Only one with a good heart, centered on God, can speak and act in a way that is harmonious with Jesus’ proverb and the ethic of the Gospel.

These readings today prompt us to reflect on the care that is needed in speaking. In an age where public discourse often degenerates into name-calling, spinning false accusations, and impugning the character of others, a person of faith stands out by his or her refusal to speak ill of others. Moreover, the Gospel warns that one who is blind to the goodness in others, and who speaks evil of them instead, reveals his or her own puny measure of openness to God’s goodness. Their inability to see the beam in their own eye while calling out the speck in the eye of the other is reckless and unacceptable behavior for the follower of Jesus. Those who see only their neighbor’s tiny faults and rush to point those out expose the logjam that blocks their own hearts from receiving and giving God’s unfathomable love. A starting point toward transformation of the heart that results in kind words can be vigilance over what one says, curbing the impulse to speak ill of another. However, this is only a beginning. The Gospel envisions a point where the faithful disciple reaches maturity in cultivating inner goodness to such an extent that only good and kind speech would well up from within and pass through the lips.

Reaching this level of maturity presupposes self-conversion. The only effective way to help our neighbor improve ever-so-slightly is to tell the story of our own massive conversion. There is a story told about Mahatma Gandhi that illustrates this point. A woman brought her granddaughter to Gandhi and commanded, “My granddaughter eats too much sugar. Tell her to stop.” Gandhi said, “Bring her back to me next week.”

The grandmother and granddaughter returned next week. But Gandhi again put them off, saying the same thing, “Bring her back to me next week.” This happened three times. Finally Gandhi said to the granddaughter, “You should not eat so much sugar. It is not good for you.”

The grandmother was nonplussed. “We waited four weeks for this simple remark.”

“Ah, Gandhi sighed,” “It took me that along to stop eating too much sugar myself.” He knew well that the only way to help his neighbor was to tell the story of his own struggle.

Spiritual development entails hearing, understanding, and acting. A question that would naturally arise for disciples would be: if we hear, understand, and act on what you say, what will we become? Jesus answers this question in a startling way. They will become flood proof. Raging rivers symbolize both the vicissitudes of life and the dark, sinister forces that seek to destroy genuine human life. What Jesus offers is a foundation that can withstand those attacks. This is not esoteric heavenly promises. This is down-to-earth, practical wisdom on how not to get engulfed. Jesus the teacher wants disciples who can act and survive in a dangerous world where word and deed are oftentimes in conflict.

This coming week we enter into the time that the Church sets aside for self-correction and conversion. Refraining from speaking ill of others might not be a bad place to start our quest for holiness.