RALPH WALDO EMERSON once wrote, “Sow a thought and you reap an action; sow an act and you reap a habit; sow a habit and you reap a character; sow a character and you reap a destiny.” The underlying idea is not unique to Emerson — we can trace its roots all the way back to Aristotle’s understanding of virtue.

We can put it this way. The behaviors and practices we do repeatedly become habits. Over time, habits begin to solidify into dispositions; we begin to lean more and more naturally in the direction our habits point, predisposing us even more to act in a certain way. These predispositions then harden into an even more enduring character; they are no longer just what we do, but in a deeper sense they become who we are.

To Aristotle, if we begin with thoughtful practices that are oriented toward worthy goals, the eventual result is the well-being that comes with the pursuit of what is good and right. But the same process of character formation can also happen negatively. Start with thoughts and actions that are unworthy, continue to engage in them without moral reflection and concern, and you may not like the person you eventually become.

More specifically, as someone who teaches communication skills, I want people to understand the importance of how they speak. Words have the power to do harm as well as the power to heal. Our words, moreover, can be a window into our character. “A good man brings good things out of the good stored up in his heart,” Jesus taught, “and an evil man brings evil things out of the evil stored up in his heart. For the mouth speaks what the heart is full of” (Luke 6:45, NIV).

But I believe the relationship can also work the other way. Not only does the mouth speak out of what is in the heart, whether good or evil, but the words we habitually speak can feed back into our hearts, shaping our character.

We can see this in Psalm 109. The psalmist’s accuser is portrayed in stark terms as a truly wicked man:

For he never thought of doing a kindness,
    but hounded to death the poor
    and the needy and the brokenhearted. (v. 16)

Here, the psalmist describes his enemy in a way that is the polar opposite to the character of God. The word translated here as “kindness” is the same word used repeatedly in the Psalms for the mercy and lovingkindness of God. Whereas the possibility of kindness never occurred to this man, kindness is God’s very nature.

Moreover, as we’ve seen repeatedly in the Psalms, including this one, God cares for those who are “poor and needy.” The psalmist even describes himself in this way in verse 22 as he calls on God for help. But the psalmist’s enemy is one who persecutes the poor and needy, and is therefore the enemy of God.

The psalmist continues by again invoking a retaliatory, eye-for-eye kind of justice:

He loved to pronounce a curse—
    may it come back on him.
He found no pleasure in blessing—
    may it be far from him. (v. 17)

But notice what the psalmist says next. The words are sobering:

He wore cursing as his garment;
    it entered into his body like water,
    into his bones like oil.
May it be like a cloak wrapped about him,
    like a belt tied forever around him.
May this be the LORD’s payment to my accusers,
    to those who speak evil of me. (v. 18-20)

The accuser didn’t just spout the occasional curse, the odd word of anger here and there. As the psalmist describes it, he clothed himself with cursing as one might put on a coat. But unlike a coat that you can put on or take off at will, his habit of cursing “entered into his body like water”; it seeped into his bones, becoming the very marrow of his being.

This is part of the psalmist’s curse of his enemy. But the psalmist’s curse, again, is a cry for justice; his enemy’s curse is the injustice from which the psalmist needs to be rescued. And in some ways, the psalmist’s prayer here is only asking God to ratify what is already the case. If his enemy chooses to wear cursing like a garment, so be it: may God make that wretched state permanent. As Emerson might say, it was the accuser’s choice to sow the behavior of cursing, and from it he has reaped an accursed character and the destiny that goes with it.

. . .

OFTEN, WE ARE far too careless with our words. As the apostle James suggests in James 1:19-20, we are too quick to speak in anger, and too slow to listen. Anger can make the most hateful, hurtful words feel justified, even when part of us knows we’ve crossed a line. And the more we make a habit out of it, the more we will become bent in that direction. Angry words and self-righteous justifications come more and more easily; they shape a character that becomes a fountain of harshness in turn. Sooner or later, that’s all people will expect from us, because as far as they know, that’s just who we are.

I don’t know that anyone starts out consciously wanting to be the kind of person the psalmist describes. Nor should we simply assume that the psalmist is only describing someone else’s problem. We will all eventually reap what we continually sow.

In that sense, you are what you speak. So think about it: what do your words say about your character? And how are your words shaping your character in turn?