Few things generate deep satisfaction as reading something well written. Better still is when that something communicates deep abiding life altering truth.
Flowery language is usually a reflection of poor writing. Beautiful writing is not always an exercise in excess though. When done well, the images it brings to mind and the way it sounds in the ear out way the negatives typically associated with ornate language.
The following excerpts strike this important balance of a beautiful use of words and communicating important truths.
“…take help from the windows. Open the shutters and admit the sun. So, if you wish to look well inwardly, look well out…This is the very way to quicken it. Throw widely open the portals of faith and in this, every light will be admitted into the chambers of experience. The true way to facilitate self-examination is to look believingly outwardly.” – Thomas Chalmers
Thomas Chalmers served as a divinity school professor in the late 1800’s. During that time he had a student named Robert Murray McCheyne who would pen the above words in his notes. They impacted his pursuit of Christ and practical holiness. They would lead him to pen similar words of his own in communication of the same truth:
“Learn much of the Lord Jesus. For every look at yourself, take ten looks at Christ. He is altogether lovely…Live much in the smiles of God. Bask in his beams. Feel his all-seeing eye settled on you in love. And repose in his almighty arms” – Robert Murray McCheyne
Inward reflection is of little good in your growth. Instead of focusing on what’s within you are to set your gaze upon Christ Himself. Look at Him. You cannot grow in holiness and Christ-likeness without a firm assurance of salvation. That assurance doesn’t come from within you. It comes from constant communion with Christ and conformity His image. These things take place as you not only spend time with Him but as you set your gaze on Him and what He has done. Not from what you feel or do.
“Now that I come to think of it, I remember Christian teachers telling me long ago that I must hate a bad man’s actions, but not hate the bad man: or, as they would say, hate the sin but not the sinner. For a long time, I used to think this a silly, straw-splitting distinction: how could you hate what a man did and not hate the man? But years later it occurred to me that there was one man to whom I had been doing this all my life—namely myself. However much I might dislike my own cowardice or conceit or greed, I went on loving myself. There had never been the slightest difficulty about it. In fact, the very reason why I hated the things was that I loved the man. Just because I loved myself, I was sorry to find that I was the sort of man who did those things. Consequently, Christianity does not want us to reduce by one atom the hatred we feel for cruelty and treachery. We ought to hate them. Not one word of what we have said about them needs to be unsaid. But it does want us to hate them in the same way in which we hate things in ourselves: being sorry that the man should have done such things, and hoping, if it is anyway possible, that somehow, sometime, somewhere he can be cured and made human again.” — C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity
C. S. Lewis is the quintessential example of finding a beautiful way to share important ideas. Here, Lewis encourages your loving people regardless of their behavior. He is encouraging you to disconnect identity from behavior because the two aren’t the same. One is who you are, the other is how you behave. As Lewis makes clear you do this with one person (yourself) each day. Christianity is calling you to see yourself in others. It calls you to extend the same kindness and grace you give yourself. This is part of what it means to love others as yourself.
“Look,” William Zinsser said, “for the clutter in your writing and prune it ruthlessly. Be grateful for everything you can throw away. Reexamine each sentence you put on paper. Is every word doing new work? Can any thought be expressed with more economy? Is anything pompous or pretentious or faddish? Are you hanging on to something useless just because you think it's beautiful?”
While Zinsser’s admonition to prune your writing is good. Following it need not mean stripping all form and beauty. There is a balance to fine writing. At their best writers find a fun and beautiful way to say something important. Writing can be both utilitarian and ornate. The two need not be exclusive.
In fact, artfully crafted language is memorable. It helps elusive ideas stick. The well-crafted sentence has a staying power austere writing lacks. It carries its reader along as if on a cloud and shows them truth in a way that is both enjoyable and insightful.
I tend to write in a plain and direct manner, mostly because it is a construction that agrees with me. I am to the point and direct in my communication. It is no surprise my writing follows suit. However plain and drab it may be, I do still love pieces of writing that strike that balance.