Pope Benedict got himself into a whole lot of trouble, this last week.

Early this week, in Germany, he stood behind a podium and gave a speech quoting a 14^th century Byzantine Monarch, a Christian emperor.

The Monarch accused Islam and its founder of being "evil and inhumane."

Cameras capture Muslim demonstrating in the streets, protesting that speech.

An angry reaction bleeding forth from all over the Muslim world.

Churches in Palestine and other places, bombed.

Interfaith dialogue groups are throwing up their hands, for this represents a serious setback in inter-religious understanding.

According to one account, the pope made these remarks, in spite of a warning handed to him by the Central Council of Muslims in Germany.

They warned him that such remarks could trigger worldwide protest.

Like the newspaper cartoon did, many months back.

Still, the Pope found it necessary to say what he did.

Later this week, the Pope apologized, saying that he is "Deeply Sorry" that his remarks "may have sounded offensive to the sensibilities of Muslim believers."

He said that he was only trying to discuss the relationship between religion and violence.

He said his intent was to speak for peace … and yet his words ignited a powder keg of anger.

I don’t want to disparage our Pope. I believe his integrity and devotion are committed. From his position, he can do much good.

But Christianity and Islam, both, from certain wings of their institutions, have painful histories of violence and inhumanity.

One cannot judge another without first doing serious self-examination.

I would also suggest that the conflict in our world does indeed have religious roots.

I’m using the word "religion" broadly.

We all live out of a belief system … a paradigm that makes assumptions about political systems, economic structures, basic values.

When these paradigms clash, heated words fly back and forth.

And when self-interests are at stake, words turn to war.

Peace in the world will come only as the world’s religions learn to live in peace.

And that will begin when kind and affirming words, wrapped in respect, are shared, one with another.

To me, the Pope’s current crisis is a clear demonstration of what James is talking about in the text read this morning.

Of all the parts of our body … eyes and ears, hands and feet … the tongue is our most perilous.

The tongue is like the rudder of a ship.

A huge ship that plows its way through the seas.

Aircraft carriers that house thousands of sailors, like floating cities.

And yet its that tiny rudder in the back of the ship, turned by the will of the captain, that determines its whole direction.

Or like a bit in a horses mouth.

A horse is such a massive animal. Muscled. Noble. A spirit of its own.

Yet a tiny bit in the horse’s mouth can turn the horse to the right or the left.

Or a tiny spark. A flash the size of a pinhead.

It falls on a dry leaf, which ignites a small twig laying across it.

Soon, the whole forest is set ablaze, flames licking at the clouds.

        There is nothing that turns our destiny more than our words.

Words spoken to us, that we take a certain way.

Or the words that we speak to others.

Once a word is let loose, it is like an arrow that flies.

No matter how much we wish we could recall it back to the bow, it is spent.

And the whole topography of the land is reshaped, for better or worse, and we have no choice but live with the consequences.

        Words matter.

In Shakespeare’s play, "Romeo and Juliet," Juliet has the familiar line, "What’s in a name? That which we call a rose by any other word would smell as sweet."

People quote this to imply that words don’t matter.

That it doesn’t matter what you call something.

But the point of the play seems to call Juliet’s rose into question.

Romeo’s "Montague" family and Juliet’s "Capulet" family were at war with each other.

What was in their names made all the difference in the world.

What’s in a word, for them, was a matter of life and death.

Words are like scattered seeds.

Many of them, perhaps most, will never see root.

But a few will take root, and they will grow, and they will spread, and they will reach far beyond our small circle of space.

The fruit they produce depends on the prayerful intent of the speaker.

If they are of a good kind, they will produce good fruit.

And if they are weeds, weeds are what we’ll get.

       The trick to safeguarding our words is cultivating a pure heart.

For out of the abundance of the heart, the mouth speaks.

If we have a pure heart, our words will be pure, and positive, and creative of peace and wholeness.

The metaphor that Jesus uses is that of a tree. It is a popular image used by Jesus. This one, from Matthew 12:33.

Make the tree good, and the fruits will be good.

If we allow the tree to become bad, the fruits will be bad.

For a tree is known by its fruits.

Jesus tells us that it is not what goes into our mouths that defile us.

What fundamentally can harm us is what comes out of our mouths.

And likewise, what can build peace, inner peace and outer harmony, is our words.

When we were on vacation, and when we went whale watching, something unusual happened.

Captains of whale watching boats phone into a central location to let each other know where the whales are.

Three pods of whales travel in a large loop around the San Juan Islands … and whale watching tours try to get ahead of them, and wait for them.

Other boats follow and wait for the whales to come.

On one of these private boats, a dog began barking. It was a frantic bark. The dog was clearly panicking.

And then, in a few minutes, the whales showed up.

It was like this dog heard them coming.

Dogs and whales can hear in a range so much higher than humans.

I believe that there are overtones in our own voices that animals can hear.

And instinctively, it seems, they can read our character.

Perhaps at some level, we, too, can sense these things.

The content of our words is the visible wrapping.

Our tone and demeanor reflects what hides within.

        Words can heal, and give hope. Albeit, sometimes, they are none the less challenging.