James 1:26: “If anyone thinks he is religious and does not bridle his tongue but deceives his heart, this person’s religion is worthless.”
James does not aim this verse at irreligious people, but at churchgoers. He addresses those who pray, sing, serve, and show up—yet still leave bruises behind them with their words. His concern is not about occasional slips of the tongue, but about an unrestrained tongue—speech left unchecked, unrepentant, and unsubmitted to Christ.
The book of Proverbs reminds us, “When words are many, transgression is not lacking, but whoever restrains his lips is prudent” (Proverbs 10:19). The old rabbis observed wisely that God gave us two ears and one tongue—and then placed the tongue behind the barricade of the teeth. Listening should come easily; speaking should come carefully. But all of us struggle to do both.
Why is God so concerned about our words?
Because our words reveal our hearts. Jesus said plainly, “Out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaks” (Matthew 12:34). Angry outbursts, sharp criticisms, cutting sarcasm, whispered slander—these are not merely communication problems. They are heart problems. Our speech exposes what we truly love, fear, envy, or resent.
James presses the point uncomfortably far: if our tongues are consistently uncontrolled—if we are known for quarrelling, tearing down, or wounding others—then no amount of outward religion can compensate. Our faith is not weak; it is empty. Not imperfect, but hollow.
Throughout his letter, James names some of the most common ways our tongues run loose. The first is slander… when we speak against one another and injure their good reputation under the guise of discernment. The second is cursing when we bless God on Sunday and curse people made in His image on Monday. How easy it is to justify harsh words as honesty and criticism as concern. And often, beneath it all, lies a deeper root.
John Calvin observed that chronic criticism often grows from bitterness and jealousy left unhealed by Christ. It is often easier to diminish others than to deal honestly with our own wounds.
Here is the full quote in his commentary on James:
“Criticizing others issues forth from the root of bitterness and jealousy within ourselves, which we have not allowed Christ to extract.” It is “a vice under which hypocrites commonly labor, that is the impiety of the tongue in detraction… They who have put off the grosser vices are especially subject to this disease. He who seems brilliant in some outward show of sanctity, will set himself off by defaming others, and this under a pretense of zeal, but really through the lust of slandering… They seek praise from the defects of others” (Calvin’s Commentary, pp. 298-299).
Sometimes we tear down others in order to make ourselves feel better. James would say this kind of speech does not come from zeal for truth, but from a heart still in need of grace.
James uses a striking image to drive his point home. To “bridle” the tongue is an equestrian term. Just as a small bit directs a powerful horse, so the tongue directs the whole course of a person’s life. Lose control of the tongue, and the whole self veers off course.
But here is the good news: The gospel does not merely command silence—it gives power for transformation. Jesus Christ never spoke a careless word. He was silent when slandered, gentle with the broken, firm with the proud, and gracious with sinners. And at the cross, He bore not only our sinful deeds, but our sinful words—every harsh sentence, every cruel remark, and every moment of verbal pride.
When Christ reigns in the heart, His grace begins to reign over the tongue. Not perfectly. Not instantly. But truly.
So let us ask ourselves:
Are my words shaped more by Christ’s mercy—or by my unresolved anger?
Do my conversations leave others built up—or quietly diminished?
The gospel liberates us to speak differently—not to prove we are religious, but because we belong to a Savior who is transforming us.
“Set a guard, O Lord, over my mouth; keep watch over the door of my lips.” – Psalm 141:3
