Teaching Summary: Recognizing the Voice of Jesus
Matthew 17:5, Proverbs 14:12, Proverbs 16:25, John 15:5, Romans 7:19, Romans 8:1, John 10:10, John 10:3, John 15:9, Matthew 9:36
On a mountain, a voice comes from heaven: “This is my Son, whom I love. Listen to him.”
Many Christians think faithfulness is about what we say, but according to the voice from heaven, faithfulness is about how we listen. That’s a challenge, because today everyone’s talking, but few are listening. Listening has become a lost art.
Learning to listen to Jesus doesn’t happen automatically. It takes practice. And if we want to be people who follow him, we have to learn to recognize his voice.
Why does it matter? Because the voice you listen to is the voice that leads you. Proverbs says twice, “There is a way that seems right, but in the end it leads to death.” The danger isn’t just ignoring God’s voice—it’s mistaking other voices for his and following them to places we never meant to go.
We live surrounded by noise—opinions, algorithms, updates, even spiritual advice. The more voices we let in, the harder it becomes to know which one is God’s. Jesus said his sheep know his voice. That means two things: Jesus speaks to his followers, and his voice isn’t the only one we hear.
He is always speaking, always guiding, always calling us back to himself. That’s good news—we are not without a shepherd. But his is not the only voice in the mix.
One competing voice is the voice of culture. Culture tells you what matters, what to value, who to admire, what to pursue. It says you are what you achieve, what people think of you, what you have. That voice is loud, persuasive, and constant. But it’s not the Shepherd’s.
Jesus will never call you to perform or prove yourself. He says, “Abide in me. Apart from me you can do nothing.” Culture drives you to do in order to have. Jesus calls you to abide in order to be.
Then there’s the voice of the self. For many of us, the loudest voice isn’t external—it’s internal. It’s that constant commentary running through your mind, narrating your day, judging your worth, telling stories that feel true but often aren’t. Steve Cuss calls this voice “the unreliable narrator.” It sounds familiar because it’s your own, but it’s not the Shepherd’s.
Remember this: the most anxious voice in your head is rarely the truest one. Anxiety, shame, and fear hijack the microphone and start narrating from insecurity instead of faith. Even Paul wrestled with this. In Romans 7 he says, “I do not do the good I want to do, but the evil I do not want to do, this I keep on doing.” One chapter later, he silences that inner critic with truth: “There is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.” The inner narrator condemns, but the Shepherd redeems.
And then there’s the voice of the enemy. Jesus said, “The thief comes only to steal, kill, and destroy.” That voice deceives, accuses, and divides. If you’re feeling fear, shame, or despair, that’s not Jesus. The enemy twists truth just enough to sound believable. His voice sounds like guilt, accusation, and defeat.
So what does Jesus’ voice sound like? He calls his sheep by name and leads them out. His voice is personal. He knows your story, your wounds, your hopes, your fears. When he speaks, it often feels like a word straight to the heart.
His voice also leads to life. “The thief comes only to steal, kill, and destroy,” Jesus said, “but I have come that they may have life and have it abundantly.” The Shepherd’s voice always leads toward life, never away from it.
His voice sounds like love. “As the Father has loved me,” Jesus said, “so I have loved you.” God’s voice never belittles—it builds. It never humiliates—it heals. Even correction comes wrapped in love. Condemnation says, “You’re a failure.” Conviction says, “You belong to me. Let’s walk this out together.”
We often wish God would just text us instructions. But hearing his voice isn’t a technique—it’s a relationship. When you know someone, you recognize their tone. The more you sit with Jesus, the more you know him. The Shepherd is speaking. His invitation is simple and clear: follow me.
The voice you listen to is the voice that leads you.