Tauren Wells - Like You Lyrics

Video

Aaron Cole - LIKE YOU (feat. Tauren Wells & TobyMac)

Meaning & Inspiration

"We’re all becomin’ what we behold."

It is a striking claim in the opening of Tauren Wells’ "Like You." It’s an observation that feels like a quiet warning. In theology, we call this the law of correspondence: the object of our worship inevitably dictates the architecture of our character. If the heart is a mirror, it eventually reflects the shape of the thing it stares at long enough. If that thing is our own ambition or the frantic noise of a culture demanding our attention, we become fractured, distorted, and hollow.

But there’s a rigorous, difficult truth buried here. To become "more like You"—the refrain of the track—isn’t merely a nice sentiment for a radio hit. It is a terrifying proposition if we actually stop to consider what it means to be like Christ.

When we sing about being "more like You," are we speaking of the Sunday morning comfort, or are we speaking of the cross? To be conformed to the Imago Dei, fully realized in the person of Jesus, requires the death of the autonomous self. It demands the surrender of that "purpose" we’re all so desperate to find, which is usually just a pseudonym for personal significance. Real sanctification isn’t an upgrade to our current lifestyle; it is a displacement. It’s the ego being shoved aside so that the fruit of the Spirit—the "peace, joy, love" mentioned later in the song—can actually take root in soil that was previously occupied by our own selfish grasping.

I find myself lingering on the line, "Everybody’s gonna worship somethin’." It’s a classic Reformed realization. Human beings are inherently liturgical creatures. We don't have the option of being neutral; we are always bowing at the altar of our own desires, our own anxieties, or our own perceived importance. Tauren Wells and Aaron Cole force a confrontation here. If we are going to be enslaved to an object of worship—and we will—is it the One who actually possesses the capacity to redeem, or are we just rearranging the furniture of our own idolatry?

There is a gap, however, between the bridge’s upbeat mention of "peace, joy, love" and the grueling reality of being "changed by Your Spirit." Sometimes, I wonder if we treat the Holy Spirit like an atmospheric mood enhancer rather than the primary Agent of transformation who actively kills off the old man to make room for the new. That process involves friction. It involves the breaking of our idols.

"Like You" moves quickly, which is its greatest danger. It’s catchy. But underneath the rhythm is a stark challenge. To be "more like You" is to invite the pruning shears. It’s a prayer that asks the Architect to dismantle the parts of us that don’t look like His Son. It’s a heavy thing to ask, and I’m not sure we often realize the cost of the "yes" we’re singing.