During our worship, we say words together for a reason: the call to worship, the prayer of confession, the words of hymns, the Lord’s prayer. What we say in public to God and one another matters. Some of us say them with personal conviction. Some of us aren’t sure how or why we believe. Some of us are just saying the words to find out. Our words matter.

Jesus and the disciples continue their ministry travels in today’s gospel reading. And rather than focusing on a particular ministry event, we hear several conversations: Jesus questions the disciples about his identity, Jesus teaches about his own suffering and his correction of Peter, and Jesus addresses the crowd about what it will take to follow him.

We overhear conversations between Jesus and the disciples. Jesus asked them a question. Who do people say that I am?

And they answered him, “Some say John the Baptist; and others, Elijah; and still others, one of the prophets.”

Then Jesus looked at them and said, “And you? Who do you say that I am?” That’s the thing about what we do every Sunday. We can’t just report what everyone else is saying. You have a stake in this, you have to say your own words.

So of course, Peter is the first to speak up. He’s always first. He’s always venturing to go where no one else was quite brave enough to go. And quite confidently he gives an exemplary answer: “You are the Messiah.”

Jesus instructs Peter and the disciples to not tell anyone and to keep it among themselves. That’s surprising. Why does he tell them to keep quiet? Preaching Professor Fred Craddock says, “I don’t know. I think it may have been that they were not ready to say it. Sometimes you can have an insight into the truth…but you do not really get it yet. Sometimes you can say something that is really true, but you do not fully know yet how true it is. So Jesus said, ‘Let it soak in. Grow to understand it. Learn the fullness of what you just said.’” In the next conversation, Jesus began to teach the disciples about his own suffering, death and resurrection. And Peter took Jesus aside and began to rebuke him. Peter clearly reacted without too much thought, which we have all done.

Jesus immediately rebukes Peter in front of the disciples saying, “Get behind me Satan! For you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things.” The word “Satan” here means “adversary.”

Jesus said Peter was thinking like a human and that his mind is on human rather than on divine things. Peter wanted to correct Jesus. He didn’t want to believe that suffering and death was essential to Jesus’ mission. It was not why he joined this group of disciples. If he could talk some sense into Jesus before it was too late maybe there was a chance they could all escape these uncomfortable propositions.

In the third conversation, Jesus widens the circle. He calls the crowd and the disciples together to say, here’s what it means to follow me. “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it. For what will it profit them to gain the whole world and forfeit their life?”

Jesus is saying that following is a choice —not a matter of thinking or even speaking. Discipleship is an act of faithful self denial. Denying self is about understanding how we trust our lives to Christ. It is embracing suffering as well as embracing the promise of new life. Suffering goes with the lot. Denying ourselves means not always being first, not always having a rosy outlook; it means we hurt, we struggle, we doubt, we don’t always know the answer.

The James’ passage might seem like an odd lectionary companion with the Mark conversations and maybe it’s not. Chapter 3 of James’ letter is a discussion about the tongue, “a small member, yet it boasts of great exploits.” James considers our capacity for good and evil. His thinking about the power of speech echoes other Wisdom literature that teaches that honour and dishonour come from speaking.

James describes the tongue like a wildfire. James speaks of those who “let loose with the tongue” without really paying attention to what they are saying. Other times we make what is difficult about following Jesus sound easy. “The Lord won’t put any more on you than you can bear.” “If you have enough faith, God will (fill in the blank).” “Everything happens for a reason.” James was particularly concerned about harm done when we speak boldly of our faith but then Christlike behavior does not follow.

Many years ago, I came upon the concept of “Loyalty to the absent.” The idea is that you don’t speak about another person if that person is absent from that conversation. In essence, if I am willing to speak ill of another person who is not present, it shows that I’m likely to speak ill of you in whatever conversation I’m in next when you are not present.

Loyalty to the absent means you have the highest level of regard for someone, even those you don’t agree with. It means we don’t talk about that person when that person is not present. In other words, you love your neighbor as yourself. It is difficult to do, to never speak ill of another person who is not present in that conversation To do that we live out the prayer we spoke in the call to worship: “Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable to you, O Lord, my rock and my redeemer.”

T. J. Grizzard was the eldest member of the session in a church I served many years ago. During the nine years I was privileged to serve there, I can remember the few occasions when he did speak. His words reflected a deep wisdom and an uncompromising love for the church and his fellow elders. You might know someone like TJ. While their silence may at times feel a bit socially awkward, they remind us to slow down and allow a little silence before leaping into speech.

Small silences before we speak are opportunities to practice the presence of God. In that moment, we can return to our center, open to the Spirit who dwells within us, to receive guidance and let go of whatever we might want to say that is off the cuff and unhelpful. The Psalmist writes, “I have calmed and quieted my soul.”

Without periods of silence, our words become chatter. Silence offers time to consider how we construct a world with our own words. The rewards of silence are rich, both for the one who waits before speaking and the one who is also waiting to hear. On either side of the gap, words may be spoken and heard more accurately and attentively.

Be still …
before you speak,
in the midst of the noise,
before you act.