Not long ago, I had occasion to reflect once more on human speech — on language itself. The reason is simple: there are words we may say to one another, and words we must never say. A mistake made with words is often likened to water spilled on the floor. Once it has poured out, no matter how desperately you try to correct it, you cannot gather it back. This is why every word each person speaks carries such immense weight — especially within a community of faith, where a single word can leave a profound mark on the whole body.

I was suddenly reminded of a ribbon I used to pin to my chest during my elementary school days. On it were the words: “Let us use beautiful language!” Every child wore that ribbon to school each morning. The slogan was printed in large letters on the school building walls, and at morning assembly we were made to recite it aloud, again and again. I suspect the intent was to purify a language that had grown coarse and polluted in the bleakness of hearts still raw from the Korean War — to plant something gentle in the souls of young children.

Language is always a mirror of our inner world. Even a stranger reveals their character and faith through the words they choose. A person carrying inner turmoil will let blunt, irritable words slip out in daily life; a person at peace within will speak with grace and beauty. This is why we who believe also need a ribbon pinned to our hearts — one that reads: “Let us use the language of faith!”

What a gift it is that human beings have language at all. Those of us living as immigrants know, moment by moment, just how vital language truly is. When we say that two people “speak the same language,” we really mean that their hearts understand each other. And yet, even among people who speak the very same tongue, we sometimes hear: “We just can’t communicate.” The sounds reach the ears, but the language resonating deep within that person’s spirit — the unspoken language of the soul — remains unreachable.

And yet, even in immigrant life, when the language of the heart speaks clearly between two people, the barrier that comes from a foreign tongue turns out to be far less formidable than we might have thought.

My mother knows only two words of English: “thank you” and “sorry.” And yet whenever I visit her, she tells me in vivid detail about her neighbors and what they said to each other. One time, she told me about the elderly woman next door who called to her from outside. My mother went out, and though the neighbor launched into a lengthy explanation, my mother couldn’t understand a word — so the neighbor said, in effect, “Just follow me.” My mother followed her inside, and the neighbor pointed to a beautiful potted flower, asking whether my mother would like to have it. My mother has always loved flowers, so she accepted with a joyful smile, thanked her warmly, carried the pot home, transplanted the flower into her own pot, and returned the empty pot. The neighbor was startled to see the empty pot returned and exclaimed, “No, no — the pot is yours too, please keep it!” Listening to my mother tell this story, I could see clearly that she was getting along wonderfully with her neighbors, as if the language barrier scarcely existed at all.

From the very beginning — since Genesis — God has spoken to human beings through the medium of language, and has opened a channel through which we can hear Him. Between human beings as well, language has woven together every shade of joy, anger, sorrow, and delight in our shared lives. We have all heard stories of how a single word from a courageous leader changed the course of history — and equally, of a daughter-in-law who carelessly tossed out a thoughtless remark that kept her mother-in-law awake all night, weeping. Language, I would venture to say, is like a brush held in the hand of an artist.

When a colleague you work alongside every day greets you with a blank, irritable expression, no one finds that easy to be around. Even if you arrived at work in good spirits, encountering that face is enough to sour your mood. In those moments, if that person happens to smile — seize it. Praise them unreservedly: “My, that smile of yours is so beautiful! When you smile, this whole office lights up. There seems to be a fragrance like a wildflower hiding in your laughter…” Words like these can coax the bloom of a smile back onto even the most hardened face — because everyone wants to be someone who earns praise.

The people of faith in the Bible repeatedly drew attention to the power of words. James wrote: “We all stumble in many ways. Anyone who is never at fault in what they say is perfect… the tongue is a fire, a world of evil among the parts of the body. It corrupts the whole body, sets the whole course of one’s life on fire, and is itself set on fire by hell…” (James 3:2–10)

I, too, stumble with my words far more often than I would like. As a pastor’s wife, as a mother to my children, I strive to speak with greater care and grace — and yet there are moments when words I never intended simply leap out of my mouth, and I am left mortified. My face flushes all by itself, and I am filled with regret: “If only I had said nothing — at least then I would have lost nothing!”

There is a man in Scripture who labored mightily to guard his words, to use language wisely, and to refuse to sin with his lips: Job. He testified of his life’s commitment: “He who is falling was helped by your words; you have strengthened feeble knees.” (Job 4:4) And even in the midst of innocent suffering at the hands of Satan, he swore: “My lips will not speak wickedness, and my tongue will utter no deceit.” (Job 27:4) The wise ones of Scripture understood early the power of words, and they possessed the discernment never to let their tongue become a tool in Satan’s hands. “Do not be quick with your mouth, do not be hasty in your heart to utter anything before God. God is in heaven and you are on earth, so let your words be few.” (Ecclesiastes 5:2)

David wrote in Psalm 15:1–3: “Lord, who may dwell in your sacred tent? Who may live on your holy mountain? The one whose walk is blameless, who does what is righteous, who speaks the truth from their heart; whose tongue utters no slander…” Through Scripture we see that David labored constantly not only to be truthful in outward appearance, but to speak truth from his innermost being.

Among America’s presidents, there was one who lived as David did — speaking truth from the heart. That man was Abraham Lincoln, who became president during the darkest period in American history. He reunited a nation torn in two and brought a chapter of bloodshed to a close. Not long after taking office, he is said to have spoken these words: “If, at the end of my term, I leave behind the impression that I merely occupied a seat of power, I will have been a failure. In every circumstance, I strive not to lose a single friend — the friend within my heart who shows me the right path.” Lincoln was shot and killed at Ford’s Theatre in Washington in 1865. Because he spent his entire life striving to speak truth from within, he remains one of the greatest presidents in history.

I hear often that one of the greatest sources of temptation within the church is the careless word. A certain believer, after a long absence, gathered their courage and came back to church. At the entrance, someone who knew them rushed over with great excitement and said: “Well! What on earth possessed you to come to church today?” The returning believer was already feeling embarrassed and a little ashamed after staying away so long — and the more they thought about that greeting, the worse they felt. And so, the story goes, they never came back.

Scripture calls us who believe to use language that is mature. Maturity does not mean words that simply sound pleasant to the ear. It means something deeper: not speech shaped entirely by our own mood or feelings, but conversation that flows from an open heart — one that has at least tried to understand and consider the position and circumstances of the other person.

If you listen carefully to how Americans tend to speak, you notice a striking care with words. Before pointing out even a single flaw or mistake in someone, they will first offer nine things in praise. As much as possible, even when someone has clearly done something wrong, they work to protect that person’s dignity — constructing a careful foundation of affirmation before offering any correction, so that the conversation can remain fair and honest. And if someone has already heard nine things said in their favor, there is no reason in the world they cannot work to correct one shortcoming.

“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.” (Ephesians 4:29) “And whatever you do, whether in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him.” (Colossians 3:17) “Let your conversation be always full of grace, seasoned with salt.” (Colossians 4:6)

Dear listeners! Even today, hidden within the words we speak without thinking, someone who has fallen can find strength in their knees and rise again. A family in conflict can be restored to peace. Let us never forget the power of language. Scripture often distinguishes the righteous from the wicked through the contrast between the speech of the wise and the speech of the foolish. Wherever we are — if words of wisdom and virtue flow freely among us — the living culture of those who follow Christ will grow all the more beautiful and rich.

— Wanhee Yoon, September 17, 1998