I have no idea what color my mother's eyes are.
Familiarity often doesn’t turn us into more attentive people. Sometimes, it’s the things we’re most familiar with that we’re the most blind towards. We get so close to a thing – we can become so accustomed to it – that we neglect to stop and notice the extraordinary it contains. That’s how, after almost three decades of relationship, my mother’s eyes are something I don’t really stop to look at anymore. They’ve become familiar, and thus, forgotten.
This same familiarity often catches us with God.
Here’s a familiar premise: God speaks through his word. This is Christianity 101, as basic as it gets. But what we might not stop to consider – what we might be too familiar to remember – is that when you or I speak, our words come in a particular tone and tenor. Often, what we’re actually saying is less important than the tone in which we say them. (Imagine all you could learn about a couple you’re observing across a busy restaurant: you can infer a lot from their body language and verbal tones even if you don't know what they're actually saying.)
But if that’s true, then God’s word must have a tone. And if it does, then we’re left with a question: what should we do about it?
“Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly, teaching and admonishing one another in all wisdom, singing psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, with thankfulness in your hearts to God. And whatever you do, in word or deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him.”
Colossians 3:16-17 ESV
Christians should wish for God's word to dwell in us richly. That means a radical, gospel centered transformation should be being made apparent in our lives. But transformation can be a kind of Christian shibboleth that gestures vaguely but doesn’t point specifically. Transformation into what? And how does this relate to tone of voice?
Well, have you ever observed the myriad little ways you become like your friends? How your speech changes, your clothes, or maybe even your posture? – you might pick up mannerisms or catchphrases they frequent, find yourself adopting the same nicknames for mutual friends, or use vocabulary that is more “them” than “you”. If they’re a very close friend, you might even wear similar brands of clothing, or shoes, or drive the same brand of vehicle, or buy a house in the same neighborhood.
More and more, we become like those people we love.
And the reverse often works too: you can usually tell who you love most by who you most closely resemble. Yes, you resemble what you love.
Do you love God enough that you resemble him?
Of course, any professing Christian ought to answer Yes; or desperately wish that they had. But how do we practically examine ourselves for this kind of transformation? How do we know that the love of the gospel dwells richly in us? How can we know that we love God the way we want to?
Here's one modest and practical benchmark you can set for yourself: What the Bible is concerned with, you should concern yourself with also. Put another way: to the degree that Scripture addresses a topic or engages in a particular tone, you should recognize that in your own life as well. Put very simply: a Christian ought to sound more and more like Scripture as they grow in maturity, adopting its tones and attentive to its topics.
So what does Scripture sound like?
Well, Scripture is melancholy, radiant, melodious, wistful, tender, furious, instructive, gentle, excoriating, blunt, and comforting; it speaks in narrative and as instruction, coming in both poetry and prose, with tones of triumph, lament, correction, praise, adoration, warning, and wonder. It contains multitudes, never leaning too far in one direction, never unbalanced, but able to hold the tension of extreme opposites without contradiction. It is both widely and particularly applicable, sharp and incisive, truthful and wise; but it is often beautiful simply for the sake of beauty, less concerned with application than with worship. It holds all these at once, and stretches in all directions without growing thin.
It is, in short, majestic.
Is this the Word that dwells richly in us? Do we recognize a transformation into something like the description above? Or do we rather read God's Word as toothless and dull, unable to transform or produce truth and beauty?
Last month I wrote about hearts that have fallen asleep and how we can stir them awake. In this article, I hope to accomplish a similarly modest goal. Below, I'll give five practical categories of broad tones that we should recognize in our lives, as well as the dangers of deficiency in any category. These are helpful, non-exhaustive markers we can look for in our lives to see whether we are gospel suffused or gospel deficient. This isn’t a formula; you aren’t finding exact proportions to mimic, like a chemist balancing reactants and products in a chemical equation. Rather, these are notes you should recognize, like the subtle undertones found in a rich wine. As you become more and more conformed to Christ, these notes and tones should be more and more recognizable in your life. There should be a recognition.
But if God's Word comes to you more as a confrontation than a recognition, then maybe you aren't being shaped by it quite as much as you think. Maybe you ought to ask: "Do I love God enough to sound like him?" Maybe you need to devote yourself more to the indwelling of that beautiful, sharp, transformative Word.
Well, do you? Do you recognize his mannerisms in your daily life? Does your emotional life span that which he reveals in his Word? Does the word he has given dwell richly in you?
How then shall you live?
Praise
How naturally does praise come to you?
You will naturally talk most about what excites you. Are you excited by God? Do you often erupt in unfiltered expressions of love and awe when you encounter his creation? Do you see him as worthy to be praised and do you devote yourself to regular expressions of praise?
As Christians, we should praise the praiseworthy. God is the source of all that is good, true, and beautiful; and so he is worthy of our praise. Many of the psalms are devoted to praise. You can turn to Psalm 34 and see how he will "bless the Lord at all times,” and that his praise is "continually in my mouth". Does your life reflect the psalmist's words, when he says this? “Oh, magnify the Lord with me, and let us exalt his name together!" (Ps. 34).
A life deficient of praise may be a life with a deficient view of the praiseworthiness of God; but a life suffused with praise is one which sees God as infinitely valuable, desperately precious, aboundingly worthy.
As God's word praises the praiseworthy, will you join him in praising his name with all that you are?
Lament
Do you know how to lament?
You must know how to lament; it isn’t just for certain people or seasons. Unfamiliarity with lament often reveals our unfamiliarity with this side of his heart, as we shield our eyes from the sorrows and injustices that presently shroud this broken world that awaits the redemption of Christ. So long as we live as weak and broken people in an unredeemed world, it is good that we should lament.
The psalmist cries, "How long, O Lord? Will you forget me forever?" (Ps. 13). He says, with tears in his eyes, that his "companions have become darkness" (88), and asks, "Why are you downcast, oh my soul? Why so disturbed within me?" (42). Is this language familiar to your soul, or does it disturb you? The Christian life is one that looks headlong at evil and suffering and misery: not fascinated by it, not immune to it, but brought to its knees nevertheless.
A life deficient of lamentation may be a life that has become comfortable with this present darkness and the brokenness of sin; but a life suffused with lament is one which despairs completely of self-salvation and runs to Christ as the only hope of rescue.
As God laments over this broken but beautiful world, will you lament with him?
Gratitude
Are you routinely grateful?
Christian gratitude is not vague and detached, offered up thoughtlessly and impersonally to the wind. It is pointed, interwoven, thoughtful, and directed to a personal God. Christian gratitude is higher than "feeling good" or "being happy." The apostles and martyrs routinely expressed gratitude to God while in prison, after being scourged, and on their way to the executioner's block or the pyre. This kind of gratitude is not circumstantial, but routine. It is not gratitude apart from suffering, but in despite of it.
As you are shaken in circumstances beyond your control, are you "grateful for receiving a kingdom that cannot be shaken"? (Heb. 12). Will you say each day, "Thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through Jesus Christ"? (1 Cor. 15). Do you "count it all joy" when you "meet trials of various kinds"? (Jas. 1). A Christian does.
A life deficient of gratitude may be a life that has lost sight of the gospel and how its good news applies to all of life; but a grateful Christian is an invincible Christian, as no matter what comes their way, they can offer up their good cheer and energetic service to a Father they trust to turn every hurt and heartbreak into good.
As God teaches us to be grateful through his word, will you let the gospel make you more of a grateful person?
Fury
Are you furious towards sin?
Ultimately, Christian fury lives and breathes in submission to God. We must be angry at sin and evil and all the havoc and destruction wrought by the Enemy; but at the same time we must never let our fury drive us to sin, as “the anger of man does not produce the righteousness of God.”
Yet as we see in Scripture repeated commands to care for the “widow, the orphan, the sojourner, and the poor” (Zech. 7:10), how can we be at peace when we see the oppression of the destitute, marginalized, and powerless? How can we be indifferent to the genocide of the unborn? (Ex. 22:22-24). How can we stay silent when we see racial hatred continually stoked towards division? (Deut. 24:17). How can we feel anything other than fury as we see political and economic pressure continually leveraged as injustice towards the helpless? (Ezk. 22:29).
A life deficient of fury may be a life that looks only to itself, and never to its neighbor; but a furious Christian is one who loves their neighbor as themselves, and loves them enough to fight for their justice as if it was their own.
As God burns with righteous anger towards evil, will you love him enough to be angry at what angers him?
Tenderness
Are you tender?
The tenderness we give begins with the tenderness we receive. In order to be gentle and lowly with the cruel and unlovely, we must first recognize that though we were those things to God, he loved us anyway. While we were ugly and ridden with sin, he loved us before we ever did anything but hate him. Once we understand that, we can offer tender love and gentle kindness to all, no matter how difficult or ugly.
Do you, like God, desire to "tend to his flock like a shepherd"? (Isa. 40). Are you often instead a "noisy gong or a clanging cymbal," speaking without love? (1 Cor. 13). Is it your desire to be described as God describes himself, as "slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love and faithfulness"? (Ex. 34). Do you view those against you as enemies, or as fellow sinners and sufferers? Do you find yourself wishing yourself around the spiritually ugly less, or do you consider them image bearers of a pure and perfect God?
A life deficient in tenderness is one that utterly disarms the power of the gospel, leaving it toothless and unable to compel heart transformation; but a tender-hearted Christian is one who remembers the depths from which they have been raised, despairing of themselves and hoping only in Christ, able to be tender in all things and to all people, no matter what.
As God was tender to you while you were his enemy, will you join him in his tenderness towards those who are your enemies?
Do you recognize these notes in your own heart? Does your life contain these tones? Do you praise, lament? express gratitude and fury? are you tender towards the difficult?
We often don't consider how we ought to live – we just live. We figure it out as we go. But as we do that, we should always be reflecting back through the mirror of Scripture to know whether we are sounding more or less like the One we profess to love and adore, and submit to in obedience, who saved us from our sin and calls us to live for him.
Ultimately, our lives are best when they reflect our God and Savior, Jesus Christ. It is a monumental task. And it is utterly worth devoting yourself – your whole self – to.
So do you love God enough to sound like him? Will you look for his little mannerisms in your life? Can you let his word dwell richly in your heart?
How then, Christian, shall you live?