Custody of the Tongue

Considering a spiritual disciple for Lent

Sometimes, it comes over me like a blast of hot air from an oven. It usually starts somewhere in the middle of my chest or from the back of my head. Sometimes, it even causes a slight tremble in my hands.

Despite my best efforts, the free-floating anxiety that seems to be in the ether these days begins to feed my anger, and suddenly, my mouth opens and I’m spewing. Except, I like to think of it as ‘venting’.

God knows we need to vent. We need to have safe places and safe people to say the quiet parts out loud. It’s one way to discharge the tension in our bodies. The pressure valve in our heads open and lets off some steam. It helps to relieve some of the heaviness around our hearts.

Except . . . except . . . when we become part of what feeds the anxiety and anger in others. Except when we misplace or displace our anger and hit easy targets like, for example, “The Democrats”. We want SOMEbody to do SOMEthing to make it STOP. And, isn’t that what our elected party leaders are supposed to do?

Except, every time I see Hakeem Jefferies these days, he looks pale and exhausted, like he has been chased by dogs and has been blown around like a rag doll in the face of an open, full-force fire hose. Which is a pretty good description of what’s going on in the Sacred Chambers of Congress these days. 

 

This is the deliberate practice of guarding one's speech, carefully considering the words they speak to avoid negativity, gossip, or harmful language, essentially exercising control over what comes out of their mouth to maintain a spiritual focus and positive attitude; it is considered a key aspect of living a mindful and dedicated religious life.

One of my dear colleagues, someone I greatly admire, was venting (spewing) the other day about the Democrats during the Joint Session of Congress. She was angry because all they could do was to hold up “wimpy” signs and a few of them walked out.

What would you have them do, I asked. SOMEthing, she responded. ANYthing, she practically yelled. Boycott. Walk out. Stand up and turn their backs every time he lied. Yell at him the way they yelled at Biden and Obama.

Really, I asked. And, what would that have accomplished? She gave an exasperated sigh and said, they would have let the American people know that they are fighting for us. You don’t think they are, I said. Not by holding up wimpy signs, no.

Wouldn’t we look like hypocrites, holding them to the rules of decorum when we are in power but not abiding by those same rules ourselves? She shook her head and said, we have to do SOMEthing.

I heard her, loud and clear. Her voice has repeated itself several times over the last few days, especially when the latest outrageous, unconstitutional decision has been made or cruel policy enacted. There’s a part of me that wants to do something, that wants the Democrats to do anything. Whatever it takes to Make. It. Stop.

I didn’t watch the 100-minute Congressional lovefest the POTUS held for himself, which he sprinkled liberally with his usual lies and misinformation, exaggerations and, of course, political venom. In the clips I saw, he sounded more like a Wrestling Character who had won the Championship but couldn’t stop spitting and growling about his opponent.

I understand her anxiety. I share her anger. I just don’t know what good it does to dress down the Democrats for not being able to fight back against a man who has kept his promise to be a “dictator on Day One,” and has filled his cabinet with people who have no education or experience but are intensely loyal to him, while breaking constitutional law left right and center, six times before breakfast.

I, at least, can turn off the news. I, at least, can walk away and lower the volume. Our elected officials can’t. They have to stand there, in front of the blast of an open furnace, and take it, knowing that the POTUS controls both chambers of Congress and the majority of the Supreme Court.

“Likewise, the tongue is a small part of the body, but it makes great boasts. Consider what a great forest is set on fire by a small spark. The tongue also 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 3:5-6)

As I considered all that a thought came to me that I - without a law degree, without having survived a political election and been voted into office, without any practical knowledge or experience of how government actually works, on the ground, in the trenches and back rooms and golf courses and tennis courts and over gourmet meals in a high-priced restaurant in The District - I, even I, have no room to criticize.

It occurred to me that I am no different than the MAGA folks who, without any medical education, suddenly become experts on immunology and the management of a pandemic. Or, without any knowledge of the art and science of education, presume to tell teachers what and how to teach children which includes more children than just my own. Or, participate in the hypocrisy of advocating for First Amendment Rights on the one hand while banning books from libraries on the other.

Or, the hipocrisy that really pulls my poor, last, tired nerve: Refusing to take vaccines during a pandemic or to immunize their children saying "You can't tell me what to do with my body," but cheer when Roe v. Wade was overturned and Dodd passed, denying a woman the very same right.

Yes, it is important - critically important - that I am in communication with my elected officials. They must know that we know that democracy is based on the principle of “participatory representation,” and take our part in the government “of the people, by the people, for the people.”

And, it is important that we allow ourselves to find safe people and places where we can vent. And, spew. And, rage, when necessary.

That said, I am also remembering something the nuns of my youth taught me. It’s a spiritual disciple called “custody of the tongue.”

This is the deliberate practice of guarding one's speech, carefully considering the words they speak to avoid negativity, gossip, or harmful language, essentially exercising control over what comes out of their mouth to maintain a spiritual focus and positive attitude; it is considered a key aspect of living a mindful and dedicated religious life.

It’s based on something James said in one of his Epistles, “Likewise, the tongue is a small part of the body, but it makes great boasts. Consider what a great forest is set on fire by a small spark. The tongue also 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 3:5-6)

So, this Lent, one of the spiritual disciplines I am committing to practice is “custody of the tongue”. I commit to being a safe person and creating safe places where my friends can do all the venting and spewing they need, but I commit myself to not participating in that activity with them.

I will listen, actively and compassionately. I will practice custody of the tongue

I commit myself to being gentle and compassionate with and kind to myself so that I can be gentle and compassionate and kind to others. I will practice custody of the tongue.

I commit myself to working out my anger and anxiety and rage with my spiritual director and therapist. I will not hold my tongue there.

I commit to finding ways to channel that righteous anger and understandable anxiety and moments of blind rage into activities that involve my presence and energy in activities of “participatory representation” of government.

To wit: March 15th is the #IdesOfTrump - a postcard campaign to break the record set by Hank Aron of having received over 900,000 postcards. I am quietly inviting friends to a postcard-writing party where, for two hours, we’ll sit and write postcards to the current (for now) POTUS, telling him the things he hates to hear. Like, “You are the most unpopular POTUS in the history of this country.” And, “You are a failure.” And, “You are not a patriot.” And, “You are a disgrace.” And, "You're FIRED".

No, he won’t read them. Of course, he won’t read them. But, he will know if we’ve broken Hank Aron’s record with a million postcards in the White House mail room.

And I can show up for the Indivisible Protests in my area, which are happening every Saturday morning from 9-noon out on Route One in front of the Walmart (Attention, Delmarva Peeps).

And, I can attend Indivisible Meetings and ACLU information sessions to learn what I can do that will begin to make a dent in the movement to rid ourselves of the far right, fascist MAGA White Christian Nationalist curse while sending a strong, loud, and clear message to our elected officials that we’re here, we’re with them, that they are not alone, and that they should keep on keepin’ on and find creative, effective ways to send a strong, loud and clear message to those who control the levers of power in our government that we are here, we are fired up, and we are fighting back.

Will it work? Will it help? Dunno. I suspect it will be far better for my soul my mind and my body than missing 40 pieces of chocolate.

Custody of the tongue. Who knew that something I used to giggle about outside of the hearing range of the nuns would be something that I would consider in my own life?