Let Your Words Be Few

“I don’t have a problem with Jesus—I have a problem with Christians.”  You’ve probably heard that line before. Maybe you’ve even nodded along. It stings because, if we’re honest, there’s truth in it. Christians talk about love but don’t always love well. We speak loudly about truth but listen poorly. We confess faith in God while our lives often look no different from the world around us.  What makes this chapter in Ecclesiastes so uncomfortable—and so necessary—is that it doesn’t aim these critiques at unbelievers. It speaks directly to God’s people. To those who pray, who worship, who make promises to God, and who live surrounded by money, success, and ambition. Solomon doesn’t start by condemning behavior. He goes straight to the heart.  At the root of hypocrisy is not bad habits—it’s a lack of reverence.

When we lose the fear of God, faith turns into performance. Worship becomes noisy and hollow. Words multiply, but listening disappears. Promises are made quickly and forgotten just as fast. We begin to trust ourselves, our effort, or our resources more than the God we claim to serve.  That’s why Ecclesiastes offers such a simple—and humbling—remedy: “God is in heaven and you are on earth. Therefore, let your words be few.” (Eccl. 5:2) This isn’t a call to silence for silence’s sake. It’s a call back to reality. God is God. We are not. When that truth sinks in, everything changes.  We start by listening more than we speak.

God is not impressed by religious noise. Rushed prayers, empty phrases, and performative worship reveal hearts that have forgotten who they’re speaking to. Jesus addressed this same issue when He warned against praying to be seen or piling up words as if God could be persuaded by many words. Prayer is not about impressing God—it’s about humbly receiving from Him.  Listening requires us to slow down. It forces us to confront our motives. Are we serving to love others—or to be noticed? Are we speaking truth—or virtue signaling? A life spent performing goodness for approval will always leave us exhausted. Only a life rooted in reverent dependence on God brings rest.  The fear of God also reshapes how we use our words.

Scripture warns us about careless vows and impulsive promises. God takes our words seriously, even when we don’t. Many of us have tried to bargain with God—especially in moments of fear or guilt. “If You get me out of this, I promise I’ll change.” And yet, once the pressure passes, so does our resolve.  True repentance isn’t emotional promises we never intend to keep. It’s honest confession. It’s telling the truth about our sin without dressing it up or explaining it away. God already knows. He is not looking for impressive language—He desires humility and integrity. Confession isn’t how we earn forgiveness; it’s how we receive what God has already promised to give.

Where are you placing your trust?  Money promises security but delivers anxiety. The more we have, the more we fear losing it. Wealth can occupy our hearts without ever satisfying them. Joy doesn’t come from control or accumulation—it comes from receiving life as a gift. When we trust God instead of our self-sufficiency, even ordinary days become rich with meaning.  The chapter ends not with despair, but with contentment. Eating, drinking, working, resting—these are gifts from God. When we stop trying to save ourselves, joy quietly returns.  The truth we learn is that Scripture doesn’t leave us with a checklist. It leaves us standing—honestly and quietly—before a holy God. Hypocrisy isn’t cured by louder worship or stronger effort. It’s healed by renewed fear of the Lord.

However, the good news is even when our fear of God is imperfect, God remains faithful. We don’t stand before Him because we have spoken well or lived consistently, but because Christ has. Jesus listened perfectly, obeyed fully, spoke truth without hypocrisy, and trusted the Father completely—even to death.  That righteousness is given to us by grace.  So today, don’t try to impress God. Revere Him. Listen more. Speak less. Trust Him with what you have. And let your life—quietly, humbly, gratefully—bear witness to the grace you’ve already received.  Remember, “God is in heaven and you are on earth. Therefore, let your words be few.”