John Calvin Commentary James 3

Be not many masters. The common and almost universal interpretation of this passage is that the Apostle discourages the desire for the office of teaching. He does so because it is dangerous and exposes one to a heavier judgment if he transgresses. They think that he said, Be not many masters, because there should have been some. However, I understand 'masters' not as those who performed a public duty in the Church, but as those who took upon themselves the right of passing judgment upon others. For such reprovers sought to be regarded as 'masters of morals'. This reflects a manner of speaking common among both Greeks and Latins, where those who superciliously criticized others were called 'masters'.

He forbade them to be many for this reason: because many everywhere thrust themselves in. For it is, as it were, an innate disease in mankind to seek reputation by blaming others. In this respect, a twofold vice prevails: though few excel in wisdom, yet all intrude indiscriminately into the office of 'masters'; and then, few are influenced by a right motivation, for hypocrisy and ambition stimulate them, not a concern for the salvation of their brethren. It should be observed that James does not discourage those brotherly admonitions, which the Spirit so often and so earnestly recommends to us. Rather, he discourages that immoderate desire to condemn, which proceeds from ambition and pride, when anyone exalts himself against his neighbor, slanders, carps, bites, and malignantly seeks for what he may turn to a sinister purpose. This is usually done when impertinent censors of this kind insolently boast in the work of exposing the vices of others.

James calls us back from this outrage and annoyance. He adds a reason: those who are so severe towards others will undergo a heavier judgment. For he who judges the words and deeds of others according to the rule of extreme rigor imposes a hard law on himself; nor does he deserve pardon who will pardon none. This truth should be carefully observed: those who are too rigid towards their brethren provoke the severity of God against themselves.

For in many things we offend all. This may be understood as a concession, as if he had said, “Suppose you find what is blameworthy in your brethren, for no one is free from sins; but do you think that you are perfect, you who use a slanderous and virulent tongue?” But James seems to me to exhort us by this argument to meekness, since we ourselves are also surrounded with many infirmities; for he acts unjustly who denies to others the pardon he needs himself. So also Paul says, when he instructs that the fallen are to be reproved kindly and in the spirit of meekness, for he immediately adds, “considering thyself, lest thou also be tempted” (Galatians 6:1). For there is nothing that serves more to moderate extreme rigor than the knowledge of our own infirmity.

If any man offend not in word. After having said that there is no one who does not sin in many things, he now shows that the disease of evil-speaking is more odious than other sins. For by saying that he who does not offend with his tongue is perfect, he intimates that restraining the tongue is a great virtue, and one of the chief virtues. Therefore, they act most perversely who curiously examine every fault, even the least, and yet so grossly indulge themselves.

He then indirectly touches here on the hypocrisy of censors, because in examining themselves they omitted the chief thing, and that which was of great importance—namely, their evil-speaking. For they who reproved others pretended a zeal for perfect holiness, but they ought to have begun with the tongue, if they wished to be perfect. Since they took no account of bridling the tongue, but, on the contrary, bit and tore others, they exhibited only a fictitious sanctity. It is therefore evident that they were the most reprehensible of all, because they neglected a primary virtue. This connection makes the Apostle's meaning plain to us.

We put bits in the horses’ mouths. By these two comparisons, he proves that a great part of true perfection is in the tongue, and that, as he has just said, it exercises dominion over the whole life. He compares the tongue, first, to a bridle, and then to a helm of a ship. Though a horse is a ferocious animal, yet it is turned about at the will of its rider because it is bridled; the tongue can likewise serve to govern a person. The same applies to the helm of a ship, which guides a large vessel and surmounts the impetuosity of winds. Though the tongue is a small member, yet it accomplishes much in regulating a person's life.

And boasteth great things. The verb μεγαλαυχεῖν means to boast, or to vaunt oneself. But James in this passage did not intend to reprove ostentation so much as to show that the tongue is the doer of great things; for in this last clause, he applies the previous comparisons to his subject, and vain boasting is not suitable to the bridle and the helm. He means, then, that the tongue is endowed with great power.

I have rendered what Erasmus translated as impetuosity as the inclination of the pilot or guide; for ὁρμὴ means desire. I indeed concede that among the Greeks it designates those lusts which are not subordinate to reason. But here James simply speaks of the will of the pilot.

He now explains the evils that come from neglecting to restrain the tongue, so that we may know that the tongue can do much good or much evil — that if it is modest and well-regulated, it becomes a bridle for the whole life, but if it is unruly and violent, like a fire, it destroys all things.

He represents it as a small or little fire, to indicate that the tongue's smallness will not prevent its power from extending far and wide to do harm.

By adding that it is a world of iniquity, it is as if he had called it the sea or the abyss. And he suitably connects the smallness of the tongue with the vastness of the world; according to this meaning, a slender portion of flesh contains in it the whole world of iniquity.

So is the tongue. He explains what he meant by the term world, namely that the contagion of the tongue spreads through every part of life; or rather, he shows what he understood by the metaphor fire, that is, that the tongue pollutes the whole person. However, he immediately returns to the fire and says that the whole course of nature is set on fire by the tongue. He compares human life to a course or a wheel; and γένεσις, as before, he takes to mean nature (James 1:23).

The meaning is that while other vices may be corrected by age or the passage of time, or at least when they do not possess the whole person, the vice of the tongue spreads and prevails over every part of life.

Unless one prefers to interpret setting on fire as signifying a violent impulse, for we call something fervid if it is accompanied by violence. Thus, Horace speaks of wheels, calling chariots in battle fervid because of their rapidity. The meaning then would be that the tongue is like untamed horses: just as these violently draw the chariots, so the tongue, by its own recklessness, hurls a person headlong.

When he says that it is set on fire by hell, it is as if he had said that the unruliness of the tongue is the flame of the infernal fire. For just as heathen poets imagined that the wicked are tormented by the torches of the Furies, so it is true that Satan, by temptations that fan the flames, kindles the fire of all evils in the world.

But James means that fire sent by Satan is most easily caught by the tongue, so that it burns immediately. In short, the tongue is a material suited for receiving, fostering, and increasing the fire of hell.

For every kind of beasts. This is a confirmation of the previous clause; for he proves that Satan rules most effectively through the tongue by this fact—that it can by no means be brought to proper order; and he amplifies this by comparisons. For he says that there is no animal so savage or fierce that is not tamed by human skill—that fishes, which, in a way, inhabit another world; that birds, which are so quick and roving; and that serpents, which are so hostile to humankind, are sometimes tamed. Since, then, the tongue cannot be restrained, there must be some secret fire of hell hidden in it.

What he says about wild beasts, serpents, and other animals is not to be understood as applying to all of them; it is enough that human skill subdues and tames some of the most ferocious of them, and also that serpents are sometimes tamed. He refers to present and past time: the present concerns power and capacity, and the past, usage or experience. He therefore justly concludes that the tongue is full of deadly poison.

Although all these things most suitably refer, in the first place, to the subject of this passage—namely, that those who claim an unreasonable command over others are themselves laboring under a worse vice—yet a universal doctrine may be understood as taught here: that if we desire to order our lives correctly, we must especially strive to restrain the tongue, for no part of a person does more harm.