The sun had set on another day of summer camp, and the campers had been shuffled off to their cabins. I was standing in the small main office with several of my staff pals. We had some photo copies to make in preparation for the next day, but in truth the job only needed one of us. We were really there for the company.

Other than the copies to be made, we were in one of those rare moments without pressing responsibilities and away from the campers. We were nearly giddy with the freedom of it. And it was just us friends!

“Can you believe [male staff member’s name]?” I said, identifying one of the staff who had clearly developed a crush on my younger sister. She was also working at the camp that summer. I didn’t approve, and over the course of the week I had–in prime Big Brother fashion–created a mental list of ways he just wasn’t the right stuff for my sister. Here in the safety of my friend circle I could finally vent my astute observations, and these friends would certainly enjoy them. It was a pretty hilarious list, after all, and I launched into it.

Several of my pals in the room chimed in, laughingly offering their own thoughts on the young staff member. Ah, nothing brings a group together like a common enemy! The copy machine was starting to hum and churn, and the barbs and jabs were starting to fly. Foibles and slips from the chap were quickly being served up for target practice, and I could sense that two of my funnier friends were about to hit a real groove.

Then Dan turned around from the copy machine. Dan and I had been friends for several years and weathered some real challenges together in previous summers at camp. He was as clever and witty as anyone in the room, and I expected a broad grin on his face, but it wasn’t there. “Guys,” he said quietly. “We’re Christians. We shouldn’t be talking about someone like this.”

Silence.

Dan’s words, spoken from friend to friend, cut straight to my heart. “You’re right,” I said at last. “My bad.” And we changed the subject. It was awkward at first, and some of the mirth had certainly gone out of the conversation, but Dan was right. We were Christians. We shouldn’t be talking about someone like this.

When Jesus told his disciples that it was what came out of their mouths that made them impure, they were baffled. In their culture, it was generally understood that you got contaminated by the things you touched or ate. It sounds to me like they were really good hand-washers and were very precise when they checked the menu at restaurants. These are both things I can relate to. But Jesus was talking about a new way of living, a Kingdom of Heaven where everyone was as important as the person to their left or the person to their right. And the way we most often affect those people is with our words. 

Dan’s reaction to our words that night has stuck with me throughout the years since. There was no anger in them. Just gentle concern and admonition. Often when I find myself in a venting session about someone who has caused me frustration, I am brought back to that moment and the reminder of what kind of kingdom Christ is calling us to build. Please don’t misunderstand me! This doesn’t mean that Christians should excuse or ignore hurtful behavior or sweep unpleasantness under the rug–Dan didn’t do that when he spoke out in his circle, our circle, of friends. What it does mean is that when we feel the urge to speak devastating “truths” about another human being, we check ourselves to see why we are saying these things. Will our words be constructive? Or are they aimed to build our own ego? To harm someone else? To protect us from something that makes us uncomfortable? Or just for a bit of evening entertainment?

I’ll confess that I’m actually quite bad at this despite a powerful moment gifted to me by a friend. I’m right with James who bemoaned our inability to control our tongue in his letter to 1st century Christian believers. But even though checking the way I speak about others is difficult, I believe it is something worth striving for and going back to. Something worth practicing and fixing as best I can when I fail.