(Mat. 12, 37)
"FOR by thy words thou shalt be justified, and by thy words thou shalt be condemned."
Isn't this a strange way of speaking?
If Jesus had said: "By thy works thou shalt be justified, and by thy works thou shalt be condemned", then I would have immediately conceded that this was good common sense. Actions are something tangible, something you can get the actual "feel" of, but words—why, they often are nothing but hot air.
Still Jesus says: "By thy words shalt thou be justified, and by thy words thou shalt be condemned"—so, I must accept that.
When, then, I think of the words I have spoken, at home, in the church, in the midst of the congregation, I cannot conceal to myself the fact that there were many empty words among them. Not only that—there were also some mean words, and when they are to be measured by Him who never sinned, and whose lips never knew deceit, then I must tell myself: There is enough right here to condemn you! And I am possessed with fear and worry because of my own words.
If I revert to the good words I may have spoken, it isn't much better. And still, I cannot say but that I doubtless have spoken some good words, and that they may have been of benefit to some. I am quite certain that I often have spoken good words at sick-beds, in the homes and in the church—words that were willingly listened to just because they were good words, that really did comfort those who were sick and had sorrowful souls—words that were something more than sounding brass or a tinkling cymbal—words that were inspired and filled with the warmth of my heart—words in which I myself rejoiced sincerely, and for which I could never sufficiently thank God that He gave me the grace to utter them.
But, yet—in spite of all this—it does seem to me that when my words are to be judged by Him who always spake the pure, the powerful, the pungent, and the perfect word—then mine will be found wanting. In other words: I doubt that those words of mine were so faultless that He who is Himself faultless, would consider me justified by my words. No, to the contrary—I must tell myself: Thou art weighed in the balance and found wanting!
Thus I find myself placed between fear and doubt—fear because of my evil words, and doubt about the faultlessness of my good words.
What shall I do, then? Shall I timidly withdraw from the words of the Lord: "By thy words thou shalt be justified, and by thy words thou shalt be condemned"?—Shall I attempt to forget them, imagine that they were not meant for me, have no bearing upon me—or shall I try to avoid them as some fearfully avoid cemeteries at the midnight hour?