"What's the Good Word?"

"What's the Good Word?"
Proverbs 13:2-3; 15:23; 16:13,24; 17:28; 18:21


A strong, self-reliant ranch owner who didn’t outwardly express his emotions, had to rush his wife to the hospital.  She had a ruptured appendix.  The operation was successful, but the woman’s condition deteriorated.  Despite massive antibiotics and intensive care, she continued to lose strength.  The doctors were puzzled because by all medical standards she should have been recovering.

The doctors were finally convinced of the reason for her not getting well.  She wasn’t trying to get well.  The surgeon, a family friend, went to her and talked to her about it.  During the conversation he said to her, “I’d think you would want to be strong for John.”
She replied, weakly, “John is so strong, he doesn’t need anybody.”

When the surgeon told the husband what she had said, he immediately went into his wife’s room, took her hand and said, “You’ve got to get well!”
Without opening her eyes, she asked, “Why?”
He said, “Because I need you.”

The nurse, who happened to be in the room monitoring her vital signs, noticed an immediate change in her pulse and blood pressure.  The wife opened her eyes, looked at her husband, and said, “John, that’s the first time you’ve ever said anything like that to me.”

Two days later she was home.  The doctor, commenting on the case said it wasn’t the antibiotics, but the husband’s words that made the difference between life and death for her.

We too often underestimate the power of a good word.  When a good word is spoken, isn’t it interesting how it stands out, like an oasis in the middle of the driest desert.  Like the balm of healing upon the deepest of wounds.  The opposite is also true: poorly chosen words can only make a dry life feel more barren, or a wound more deep and unhealable.

Joyce Landorf wrote about such words in her book, Irregular People:
There are the irregular parents who never attended any of their daughter’s swim meets while she was in competition.  They were blind to the fact that she broke all the swimming records in her events her first year of high school.
Later, as a senior, she became the secretary of both her class and the student body; but at no time would either parent acknowledge her accomplishments.
She said, looking back, “I tried so hard to make my parents see that I was good.”  Then, when she won the title of Homecoming Queen her senior year, she recalled thinking, “Now they’ll be proud of me!”  But, again, out of blindness, her mother’s only caustic comment was, “I guess it pays to be cheap with the boys.”
Receiving no affirmation or approval from her parents wreaked havoc in this young girl’s heart.  She eventually, years later, worked through this. But as a teenager, she couldn’t understand the blindness of her irregular parents and the pain of their words.  (pg. 30)

Just as an underline, hear the words of the poem, “Twas Only a Word”:
‘Twas only a word, a careless word,
But it smote the heart of one who heard
Like a fierce, relentless blow;
The day seemed overcast with gloom,
The sweetest songs seemed out of tune;
The fires of hope burned low.

‘Twas only a word, a loving word,
But a weary, sorrowing heart was stirred,
And life took a brighter hue;
And Faith, triumphant, pruned her wing
Discouraged souls began to sing,
And hope revived anew.

Only a word, and yet what power
It holds to better or to mar
The lives of those who hear.
What power for good--for evil too!
Oh, may our words be good and true,
And spoken in God’s fear.

“The right word, at the right time--beautiful!” states the second half of Proverbs 15:23.  Yet, sometimes the right word at the right time is no word at all.  Especially when people are hurting.  One of the hardest things is knowing what to say to someone who has just suffered a tragedy.  We want to offer some kind of comfort so badly, and then end up saying something we wish we wouldn’t have.  It’s like taking a big mouthful of really hot coffee; whatever you do next is wrong.

Maybe you read the book, When Bad Things Happen To Good People.  It came out maybe 30 years ago.  The author, Rabbi Harold Kushner was working through his feelings about his son’s death as a result of progeria, or rapid aging disease.  One of the things he struggled with most was the harm done by well-meaning people who felt a compulsion to say something meaningful.  But they ended up making him feel worse.  He gave a couple of examples from his own experience, but one from a friends experience stands out in my memory.

Rabbi Kushner’s friends had had a child killed when the little boy ran out between two parked cars to chase a ball.  A driver didn’t see the boy run out in the street, hit him, killing him instantly.

A neighbor came over to visit the family in the first days after the son’s death.  The couple was struggling with how God was a part of this tragedy.  The neighbor said, “Maybe God is trying to teach you a lesson that you need to keep a closer watch on your kids.”  If someone would have said that to me, I would have been severely tempted to punch them in the mouth.  Man or woman, it wouldn’t have mattered at that moment.  (But that’s the anger sermon from last week.)  Instead the mourning couple just quietly got up and asked their neighbor to leave.

As Christians, we feel we just have to say something to hurting people.  We may think that we would be inadequate witnesses if we didn’t say something.  But it’s often the case that wisdom is on the side of the exact opposite.

We can speak just as loudly and profoundly through our presence with hurting friends and family.  And simply listening to them.  It may be that what’s important is not what we say, but what they have to say.  We need to learn from one of the greatest sufferers in the Bible, Job.  He said to his so-called comforters:
O that you would be completely silent
And that it would become your wisdom!  (Job 13:5)

A good word is, at times, a silent word.



A good word, like that oasis in the desert, can make astounding changes in peoples lives.  When it’s the right moment to say something, good words are like a deep, healing massage that penetrates seemingly to the bones, bringing new life to a tired, weary, and dragging frame.

One day Pooh Bear is about to go for a walk in the Hundred Acre Wood.  It’s about 11:30 in the morning.  It’s a fine time to go calling--just before lunch.  Pooh sets out across the stream, stepping on the stones.  When he gets right in the middle of the stream, he sits down on a warm stone and thinks about which friend would be the best to call on.  He said to himself, “I think I’ll go see Tigger.”  No, he dismisses that.  Then he says, “Owl!”  Then, “No, Owl uses big words, hard-to-understand words.”  At last he brightens up.  “I know!  I think I’ll go see Rabbit.  I like Rabbit.  Rabbit uses encouraging words like, ‘How’s about lunch?’ and ‘Help yourself to some more, Pooh!’  Yes, I think I’ll go see Rabbit.”

Or in a more serious vein there is the story of a 16 year old boy who was arrested for stealing a car.  He was a previous offender.  He was rebellious, and outwardly very hard.  All attempts to get through to him had failed.  In the trial, the prosecuting attorney was harsh and judgmental, attempting to break the boy down.  The attorney pointed out to the jury and others that the boy was incorrigible, that he had caused trouble numerous times before, that he should be put behind bars to protect others.

The judge also had some harsh words for the boy, trying to break the boy’s spirit.  When the judge was through, the boy startled everyone in the courtroom by saying to the judge, “I’m not afraid of you.”

There was another man in the courtroom.  Mr. Weston ran a farm for delinquent boys.  The judge turned to Mr. Weston and said, “I feel that this boy is hopeless and there’s no need sending him to your farm.  We’ll have to send him to jail.”  Mr. Weston got up and said, “Your honor, I don’t feel the boy is hopeless at all.  I feel that beneath that rough, bluff exterior he is very frightened and confused.  I happen to know that he has never had a father’s love, and has never had a chance to make anything of himself.  I would like to give him that chance.”

The only sound in the courtroom was the sound of the boy breaking down and crying.  As it turned out, at that moment, Mr. Weston’s statement, at that particular time in the boy’s life, was the turning point toward a new life.  A full half-hour of harsh, judgmental condemnation had only driven the boy deeper into himself.  One statement--non-judgmental, compassionate--had released within the boy the fresh waters of healing and hope.


Notice the adjectives in these proverbs that are used to describe a good word.  Good words bring about:
the enjoyment of good
joy
delight
favor
love
sweetness, like honeycomb
healing
prudence

Who wouldn’t want to sit at this table of good words and enjoy this bill of fare they provide?  Who wouldn’t want to hear, and see, and taste a good word that sinks deeply into parched souls and bring healing?

As the poem says:

Oh, that my tongue might so possess
The accent of His tenderness
That every word I breathe should bless.
For those who mourn, a word of cheer;
A word of hope for those who fear;
And love to all people, far or near.
Oh, that it might be said of me,
“Surely thy speech betrayeth thee
As a friend of Christ of Galilee!”