Your Tongue is Telling on You: Why Your Language is the Clearest Evidence of Your Faith

If you have spent any amount of time around church, you have probably heard the familiar line from the book of James: “Faith without works is dead.” Without diving too deeply into theology, one question that often arises in response to that statement is whether James is suggesting that works somehow create saving faith.

The question is especially natural for new believers. But if the churchy language is throwing you off, let me explain what I mean. Many people assume that becoming a Christian means learning to check the right boxes. A good Christian prays daily, reads the Bible regularly, attends church consistently, treats others kindly, and avoids obvious sins. And the list goes on. New believers might think that faith grows out of disciplined behavior.

That is not what James means by “Faith without works is dead.”

The relationship between faith and works does exist—but it exists in a very different order. People are not Christians because of what they do. Instead, Christians begin to do different things precisely because of who they are. Works become visible evidence that faith is present and active within a person.

Concrete Actions

Because true faith does not remain hidden, it always – and I do mean always – shows up in our actions. The letter of James stresses this. Much of his writing offers concrete areas of our lives that are affected by faith. He repeatedly points to observable indicators. And he is not vague about where faith shows up.

But there is one particular area of our behavior that James seems especially interested in. One place where faith does not merely exist but reveals itself plainly. A place where self-control is quickly tested, and where it is difficult to pretend.

That place is our language. Listen to what James writes: 

Indeed, we all make many mistakes. For if we could control our tongues, we would be perfect and could also control ourselves in every other way. 

We can make a large horse go wherever we want by means of a small bit in its mouth. And a small rudder makes a huge ship turn wherever the pilot chooses to go, even though the winds are strong. In the same way, the tongue is a small thing that makes grand speeches. 

But a tiny spark can set a great forest on fire. And among all the parts of the body, the tongue is a flame of fire. It is a whole world of wickedness, corrupting your entire body. It can set your whole life on fire, for it is set on fire by hell itself. 

People can tame all kinds of animals, birds, reptiles, and fish, but no one can tame the tongue. It is restless and evil, full of deadly poison.

James 3:2–8 (NLT)

Three Details Unique to the Tongue

At first, James' description of the tongue seems like poetic exaggeration. It is indeed poetic — but it is hardly exaggerated. He draws our attention to three distinct features of human speech. And I’ll explain why he does so momentarily.

(1) Speech is directly proportional to maturity.

When James says that control of the tongue would also mean control in every other area of life, he is showing us that speech is a measure of spiritual maturity. The way we talk is not just one isolated virtue, like keeping our language clean. It is tied to everything else. If someone could truly control the tongue, it would mean their whole life was under control.

Why? Because…

(2) The tongue resists human control.

When James says that no one can tame the tongue, he is not telling us to try harder. He is stating a reality. The tongue does not submit easily to discipline or willpower. If it ever is brought under control, that control comes from something deeper than effort alone. It points to a change that has taken place inside a person, not just a decision to speak more carefully.

(3) The tongue is disproportionately powerful.

James also makes it clear that the tongue’s influence far outweighs its size. Though it is small, it carries an enormous force. He compares it to a bit that directs a powerful horse, a rudder that turns a massive ship, and a tiny spark that creates a raging forest fire.

Words work the same way. They steer lives. They wound, and they heal. They tear down, and they build up. Small as they are, their impact is anything but minor.

These three observations explain why James treats our language as such a clear indicator of our faith. The tongue is the hardest part of our behavior to bring under control, which makes it the most honest test. If it were easy to manage, it would not tell us much about what is really going on inside the heart.

And because words carry such outsized power, they leave a trail. What we say lingers. It affects people. It shapes direction. That means even small patterns of speech become noticeable over time. Our words end up saying more than we realize.

For these reasons, we should not read James and assume he is concerned with our vocabulary. He is not asking us to stop cussing. He is showing us that language is the easiest place to see whether faith is actually alive. It provides evidence precisely because it is difficult to control and because its impact is so great.

How Faith Talks the Talk

If you are starting to realize that your tongue may be telling on you, James does not leave you without direction. He offers practical guidance for how faith is meant to shape a person’s life, all the way down to their language.

First, practice receptive faith.

In the opening chapter of his letter, James teaches us how to listen to God’s Word. He urges his readers to be “quick to hear, slow to speak,” and to “receive the implanted word.” The answer to uncontrolled speech does not begin with trying to manage our words better. It starts with learning to listen better.

Faith grows when it listens to God’s Word. And receiving the Word is more than simply knowing what Scripture says. James is clear that hearing alone does not produce change. Transformation comes when the Word is lived out—when Scripture shapes decisions, responses, and daily obedience. A heart that is humble enough to receive correction from God’s Word is a heart that begins to bear real fruit.

Put simply, when we receive God’s words, our words begin to change.

Second, ask for wisdom from above.

Later in the same chapter where James warns about the tongue, he points his readers toward what he calls “wisdom from above.” He describes it as pure, peaceable, gentle, and open to reason. His point is subtle but important. The solution to the tongue problem is not tighter restraint—it is a deeper reorientation.

James still speaks of the Word of God when he calls it “wisdom from above.” He uses this description of the Word because the Word brings a transformative force. When a person humbly receives God’s Word, they begin to take on the qualities James describes. Over time, that inner change becomes visible. Speech starts to sound different. Not perfect—but different. And others notice.

This leads to a simple but sobering truth: if transformation is happening anywhere, it will show up in our words. When you hear terms like peaceful, gentle, and open to reason, you likely imagine a particular kind of speech. The fact that we imagine language at all confirms James’s point—inner change is most clearly revealed by how we talk.

Faith without works is dead. And faith that lives will speak. Speech does not save us, but it does testify. Our words bear witness to whether faith is present and active in our lives.