It started as a great day in the Tripp household. We had a nice family breakfast, the weather forecast was as wonderful as we needed it to be for our family outing, and we had two hours to relax before we needed to leave for our planned activity. I sat down on the couch to enjoy some personal reading.

A good morning, a good afternoon planned, and a good bit of personal time in between! “Praise God from Whom all blessings flow” . . . until two of my teenage children started arguing and fighting.

I listened as the verbal back-and-forth escalated, and my irritation level escalated rapidly. I sat there, steaming, book in hand, but I refused to intervene. “I don’t have to deal with this today,” I reasoned with myself. “I am Paul Tripp, and this is my day off!” I even wondered why my wife wasn’t doing something. Didn’t she hear what was going on? When is she going to parent?

One kid ran into the bathroom and slammed the door, with the other in hot pursuit. They began to push with all their might on either side of the door, and it sounded like the door was about to come off the hinges. I became unhinged first! I stood up from my chair, which I apparently thought was my throne, not with a godly sense of parental purpose, but with a heart full of anger, personal offense, and self-pity.

Didn’t they know what my life is like? Didn’t they know how hard I worked for them? Didn’t they realize how important this day off was to me? Couldn’t they see that I was trying to read? In that spirit, I got up and stormed toward the scene. I spoke to my kids as if I had been personally sinned against and my laws had been broken. I missed an opportunity to gently reveal their sin against one another and how they were breaking God’s law.

My words were accusatory and harsh, born more out of self-love than love for them. I spoke to accomplish what I wanted, not what God wanted in that moment. I missed the opportunity to speak as an ambassador. I gave the “I do and do for you, and this is the thanks I get?” speech. “When will you stop wrecking our day? Why don’t you grow up for once?” One of my kids kept saying (as I talked on and on), “But, Dad, you just don’t understand.” I wasn’t there to understand. I was there to vent my irritation and make my anger known. I left the room in a huff, threw myself down on the couch, and tried to resume reading.

By God’s grace, I could not concentrate. The Holy Spirit troubled my conscience over the way I had handled things. No matter how hard I tried to justify myself, I could not lift the weight of conviction, which soon turned to remorse. “When would I ever get it right? How could I know what I know, yet give in to this kind of communication?” I cried out in prayer for forgiveness and help. It was, for me, one of those “O wretched man that I am” moments (Romans 7:24-25). I finished praying and went to my kids to ask for their forgiveness.

Do You Regret What You Have Said?

Who among us hasn’t regretted what we’ve said as a parent, spouse, friend, neighbor, or co-worker? If you’re anything like me, you long to snatch back words (to somehow erase the tape) so that they would no longer exist in memory. I’ve been saying things I regret for 75 years, and I know I’ll keep doing so until I’m on the other side. Day after day, I have to ask for forgiveness for what I say and how I say it.

But morning after morning, God’s mercies never come to an end. The forgiveness of Christ has covered all our words (past, present, and future) and because it has, we can admit we are a people in need of ongoing help with our communication and in our relationships. The Bible offers that help by providing a framework for God-honoring communication, and the “right here, right now” presence and power of Jesus empowers us to speak more righteously.

This is what I want to write about in today’s Grace & Knowledge, and the biblical framework for God-honoring, relationship-strengthening communication is found in words spoken in the Garden of Eden in Genesis 3.

Until the Serpent Spoke

“Now the serpent was more crafty than any other beast of the field that the LORD God had made. He said to the woman, ‘Did God actually say, “You shall not eat of any tree in the garden”?’” (Genesis 3:1-2)

Into the perfect world of the garden came the voice of the serpent. Satan spoke, and his words turned the simple world of human communication into a complex arena of sin and struggle. All our trouble with talk has its roots here. As we consider our troubled world of communication, we see many “firsts” in Genesis 3.

1. For the first time, the authority of God is challenged.

Until the serpent spoke, the world God had made existed in complete submission to his authority and will. Adam and Eve were obediently living out their identity as God’s creatures, his image bearers, and his resident managers on earth. All their responses to God and their conversations with each other were carried out with unbroken submission to God. The moment the serpent spoke, something dramatic and unthinkable happened: words challenged God’s authority! The world would never be the same again.

Imagine what our lives would be like if we spoke every word in perfect submission to God. How much less complicated would our relationships be? Many of the problems we experience when talking with one another come from usurping God’s authority.

We say what we want to say, when we want to say it, and how we want to say it. We speak as if we are in charge, as if we have the right to use words to advance our purpose, and as if our communication is solely to achieve what makes us happy. We talk as if we were God, rather than his creatures. We speak to others as if they are called to submit to our authority, rather than submitting to his authority with every active or idle word we speak.

The problem with the way I spoke to my kids that morning was that I entered the room as if I were God, rather than as a man under God’s authority who had a heartfelt desire to see God’s will done in my life and my children’s.

2. For the first time, a lie is spoken.

Until the serpent spoke, every conversation was perfectly, completely truthful. God’s words were utterly reliable, and life could be built on them. Adam and Eve’s words to each other were trustworthy because they were consistent with the words of God.

But then the serpent purposely lied to advance his purpose. He was not confused; he had not forgotten what is true. He was not ignorant; he did not lack understanding. He knew what he said was untrue. That is why he said it! He did not want Adam and Eve to live in the light of truth or in obedience to God. He sold them a lie and manipulated and deceived them to make it plausible.

Good, godly communication is always dependent on truth. Lies, falsehood, manipulation, and deception always subvert it. Lies not only distort facts but destroy the trust necessary for people to talk with one another. Every word we speak is rooted either in the truth or a lie. Most of our communication problems come from deceiving, distorting, and manipulating with our words. We reshape the facts to our advantage. We recast events, often convincing ourselves that our perspective is true. When I spoke to my kids that morning, I was fully convinced that I was right in what I was about to do. But I had bought into a lie.

3. For the first time, people speak against one another.

“The man said, ‘The woman whom you gave to be with me, she gave me fruit of the tree, and I ate.’ Then the LORD God said to the woman, ‘What is this that you have done?’ The woman said, ‘The serpent deceived me, and I ate.’” (Genesis 3:12-13)

Until the serpent spoke, no critical, condemning, or angry words had been spoken. There had been no accusations or put-downs, no throwing a person’s words or actions back in their face. Adam and Eve’s relationship was free of this because they were free of sin. But after they ate the fruit, we see a dramatic change not only in their relationship with God but in their relationship with each other.

When God asked Adam about eating the forbidden fruit, Adam was quick to accuse Eve. He did not stand with her or protect her. He did not act as an intercessor and advocate, pleading her case to God. Rather, he stood aside, pointed a finger, and essentially said, “Blame her, God. She’s the one who got me into this mess.”

How much of our communication is about passing the blame to others? Who among us isn’t tempted to accuse and blame when the heat of responsibility is put on us? In times of difficulty, we are often more ready to assign blame than to seek solutions. Barely a day goes by without blame being on our lips or in our ears.

4. For the first time, words of accusation are spoken against God.

Until the serpent spoke, God was loved, obeyed, and served. And then he became the scapegoat for the sins of his creation. When God approached Adam after he ate the fruit, Adam pointed the finger not only at Eve but at God. Adam said, “God, if you hadn’t given me this woman, none of this would have happened. God, it’s your fault; you created her, and look what she has done to me now!”

Just like Adam, when we blame people and situations for our problems, we are also making accusations against God. When a wife says, “My husband makes me so angry!”, she points her finger not only at her husband but at God, who ordained the relationship. A dad who says, “I was much more relaxed and patient before I had children” is blaming God for the parental burden he finds overwhelming.

The examples could go on and on. In much of our talk today, we hear and make the same subtle (or not-so-subtle) accusations against God.

World of Words, War of Words

Challenging the authority of God, speaking and believing lies, and accusing one another and God all have their origin in this dramatic moment found in Genesis 3. Satan spoke, and as Adam and Eve acted on his words, our world of words became a war of words.

We no longer reflect God’s image with our words; we also reflect the serpent’s image. We no longer consistently speak up to God’s standard; we often speak down to the serpent’s standard. Our words no longer faithfully picture God’s design; too often, they picture Satan’s deceit.

Talk is no longer easy or safe. Instead, we live in a world where lies manipulate, angry words wound, falsehood destroys, slander harms, condemnation tears down, and disrespectful words challenge the authorities God has set in place.

We must humbly acknowledge and vigilantly be on guard that our words, as sinners, have their roots in the words of the serpent. With this admission, we confess that our struggle with communication is not primarily a struggle of technique but a struggle of our nature.

Our war of words is not with other people; it is a battle within our own heart.

A Prayer for Our Words

How do we fight this war? First, we must confess. Why don’t you pray this with me today?

“Lord, I admit that I have not always recognized that my words belong to you. I have not faithfully communicated according to your example and plan. I have claimed my words as my own and used them for my own purpose. I have listened to the Great Deceiver and, many times and in many ways, spoken more like him than you. I ask for your forgiveness and plead for your help. I know you alone can tame my tongue. I offer my talk back to you, that I may speak up to your standard and according to your design.”

Then, as we confess, we must embrace the glorious promise of the gospel Paul captures in 2 Corinthians 12:9: “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.”

Nowhere is our weakness more dramatically revealed than in our struggle with words. But we need not despair! Christ has come. He lived, died, and rose for us. In him, we find not only forgiveness, but deliverance from sins of the heart that lead to sins of the tongue. In him, we receive the “right here, right now” gospel power to speak in a way that reflects him, not the serpent. In him, our words find their hope.