Skip to main content

listening

Image result for listen

Recently, I came across these words by Eugene Peterson: "Prayer is first of all a means of listening. Prayer is an act of attention. We are not used to this. We suppose we are in charge of prayer. We aren't. God has spoken. We are required to enter a world of listening to God." [1]

My work requires me to be a good listener. All my ideas, theological insights, and teaching and writing material come from listening. To the biblical texts, to learned and experienced voices, to the whispers of the Spirit, to the extravagant presence of creation, and to my own heart and mind as they move through this world. Sometimes the work is difficult. I feel stuck. And then I realize that I have not spent enough time listening. The same thing happens in prayer. When it feels dull, flat, uninspired, or weak, it usually means that I am not listening, just babbling on and on, caught in my own thoughts and words. Real listening requires what Peterson calls the "cultivation of unhurried intimacies." [2]

Listening seems a lost art in some ways. I have observed too many conversations where neither party is really hearing what the other is saying, especially when they espouse different points of view. People often show up to a dialogue with no intent to hear, only to be heard. They come to prove a point, to change someone's mind, to explain or defend a position, to recount their own experience or put forth their opinion, but they seldom come to listen.

Sad to say, many of us who are involved in Christian work are pretty poor listeners. We are so busy preaching, teaching, evangelizing, praying, worshiping, counseling, and repeating pithy sayings that we have no time to actually listen. To be still. To wait. To take in the pain of the world. To see the confusion and fear on the faces of those we exclude, condemn, or dismiss. To stop short and realize we are not helping but hurting. When we don't listen, we create chaos.

Let me offer an analogy. One of the primary places I have learned to listen is through making music. Most of us have heard someone go off-key when they sing, or heard a musician play out of time. In many cases, the singer or musician was unable to hear themselves or the accompanying musicians, so they lost their connection to the song. Attentive and continuous listening is the only way to create beautiful music (and not cringe-worthy cacophony).

I remember learning to sing harmony as a child. I spent hours listening to music, straining to hear the secondary notes, the notes which weren't the loudest or the most obvious or the easiest to identify. And at some point, my ears and my brain finally got it and I was able to hear and reproduce the harmonies.

Harmony is all about listening. A harmony seeks to add something beautiful to the melody; it is not a melody in itself. Harmony listens and helps. It is never the main attraction. Some singers prefer to learn a harmony line in isolation and then join it to the melody. To me, the final product always sounds like two voices each doing their own thing. When a harmony is not learned through listening but as its own stand-alone solo, it prevents the singer from engaging in adaptive collaboration. They end up focusing on singing their part right and not on creating a beautiful song together. When we are not good listeners, we end up screeching out our own melodies without giving much attention to what the rest of the band or choir is doing. We end up being out of tune and out of sync, ruining the whole performance. For everyone.

If we want to foster harmony instead of chaos, community instead of competition, peace instead of conflict, beauty instead of pain, and compassion instead of control, we must become better listeners. And it takes practice, a lot of practice.

One of the first things we can do is to listen to ourselves and recognize where we are not good listeners. If we identify our problem areas, we can begin to make concerted efforts to change our behaviour. We can also ask someone to be straight with us about how well we listen. Here are some points to consider.

How can we tell if we are not very good at listening?
1. What is said to us bounces off and never really affects our response. We feel that we "already know."
2. We tend to bring everything back to our own situation, experience, or view.
3. We seldom ask questions in order to learn more about someone else.
4. We find it hard to accurately and empathetically restate what someone says to us.
5. We find it difficult not to have the final word.
6. We are easily distracted when someone is talking to us.
7. Our ideas are formed mostly in isolation (or in an echo chamber) and not in rigorous, diverse, communal discourse.
8. We tend to communicate through monologues or small prepared speeches.
9. We can't remember the last time our view changed on something.
10. We frequently interrupt people when they are talking.
11. We are more concerned with being right and being heard than with helping and caring.
12. People seldom thank us for listening to them.
13. Most of our prayer time consists of talking to God and very little time is spent in silence.

"People love to talk but hate to listen. Listening is not merely not talking, though even that is beyond most of our powers; it means taking a vigorous, human interest in what is being told us. You can listen like a blank wall or like a splendid auditorium where every sound comes back fuller and richer." - Alice Duer Miller

"Whoever has ears, let them hear..." - Jesus (Matt. 11:15, Matt. 13:9,43, Mark 4:9,23, Luke 8:8, Luke 14:35)

-------------------------
Image from imgur.com

[1] Eugene H. Peterson, As Kingfishers Catch Fire (New York: Waterbrook, 2017), 59.
[2] Eugene H. Peterson, Tell It Slant (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2008), 4.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

comedic timing

Comic by Joel Micah Harris at xkcd.com One of my favourite jokes goes like this: Knock, knock. Who's there? Interrupting cow Interrupting cow w--- Moooooooo!! Timing is important in both drama and comedy. A well-paced story draws the audience in and helps it invest in the characters, while a tale too hastily told or too long drawn out will fail to engage anyone. Surprise - something which interrupts the expected - is a creative use of timing and integral to any good story. If someone is reading a novel and everything unfolds in a predictable manner, they will probably wonder why they bothered reading the book. And so it is in life. Having life be predictable all of the time is not as calming as it sounds. We love surprises, especially good surprises like birthday parties, gifts, marriage proposals, and finding something that we thought was lost. Surprises are an important part of humour. A good joke is funny because it goes to a place you didn't expect it to go. Sim

Names of God

The Hebrew word "YHWH" (read from right to left) This past Sunday I gave a talk on the Names of God, the beginning of a series on this topic. This first talk was to be a gentle introduction so I thought it wouldn't take too many hours of preparation. Well, I quickly discovered that the research is almost bottomless; every time I thought I had a somewhat definitive list of names, I found another source which added a few more or gave a different twist on some of the names I had already come across. After several hours I was getting overwhelmed by the sheer amount of data (and that was only looking at the Hebrew Bible). I wondered how I could present this to people in an orderly and accessible fashion and within a reasonable time frame. Not everyone is up for a 3-hour lecture crammed full of detail on a Sunday morning. So I took a break and spent a bit of time meditating on this problem and asking the Spirit for guidance. And then I thought that being overwhelmed by Go

soul refrigerator

I went grocery shopping yesterday and came home with three bags of food. After I unpacked them all, this is what my fridge looked like: really empty. How does that happen? How can I feel so full and ready for any food emergency one moment, and after one quick glance, realise that I have nothing, really? Today is one of those days in my soul as well. I woke up with gratitude and fullness in my heart, ready to take on this day and all the wonderful opportunities that it presented. Then I caught a brief glance of some emptiness in my life and bam - my buoyancy was compromised. For the past few hours I have been treading water, trying to keep my head in a positive space, bobbing in and out of disappointment, and catching myself whining with pathetic indignity at the cement blocks of other people's stupidity that are tangled around my ankles. When I am staring at the empty refrigerator of my soul, these are my thoughts. Where do I go from here? Perhaps I should slam that refrigerator