Holy Listening

I have long observed that in this post-modern, technologically sophisticated, yet very divided society, we are very poor listeners. Believers scattered throughout various religions and denominations expound loudly from church pulpits, mosques and synagogues on their positions and beliefs, each professing to be the single owners of truth. Politicians divided into ideological camps spanning from far Left to extreme Right yell and pontificate with the same zeal as the religious folks, claiming their truth as superior, beyond reproach. Journalists, professors, business owners, sports heroes, models, actors - each claim to have the exclusive ownership of truth, each pouring forth their own diatribes of what should be done (or what should not be done) about the “problem of the day”, declaring opinion and conjecture as if they were scientific facts, in decibels so loud there is no hope of hearing a counter-argument, a different opinion, or perhaps, even, a rational thought.

Sexuality and gender identity, racial equality, religion, immigration, economics, abortion, vaccines, gun rights; no matter the issue, no matter what a person knows or understands about any of these complex issues, everyone has an opinion. And these opinions are closely held, carefully guarded, preciously protected; inviolable. And surely, the battle lines are more deeply and quickly drawn when the issues violate our deeply held core values, such as God, religion, integrity, love, faith, freedom, family. We each have them, and we cannot help but bear witness to them in our views of the world, even though we may not recognize the great power they wield in our daily lives, and in our opinions of the world.

The tragedy is not that people have opinions, or that they try to defend their opinions; it is that no one listens. On neither side is there any indication that people actually hear or care about the opinions of others. The tragedy is that lost in the whirlwind of the hot air and gesticulating hands is the whispered dirge of the lost, the broken, the lonely, the wounded, the disenfranchised. We have come to see our problems as political pawns in a chess game of power instead of symptoms of a broken world that desperately needs compassionate, loving and holy listening.

I’m fairly certain you would agree with me; we need to listen more. OK. That’s fine. But let’s go beyond a simple conversation: I propose a listening that goes deeper; a listening that suspends my own agenda, that sets aside my need to convince you that you are wrong and I am right; a listening that lets go of my own opinion, and allows the speaker into the shadows of my own heart. A listening that makes me vulnerable; a listening that requires far more effort of my heart than of my mind. I propose a holy listening; a listening of the heart.

That may seem like an unlikely pipe dream, a foolish fancy that is unrealistic. But still, I think if we did more holy listening, more heart-listening, we could change the world. Jesus did.

Think of how Jesus listened; read the gospels to see for yourself the unrelenting power of his listening. The gospels reflect a Jesus who listened in the full presence of both his humanity and divinity. I imagine that the gentleness of his Spirit radiated a quiet peace as he focused totally on the person who was speaking before him, excluding the loud and raucous crowds that pressed in upon him from every side. Each person Jesus encountered got his full attention: the Samaritan woman at the well, the leper, the woman with a hemorrhage, the Roman soldier, the demon-possesed man. Jesus listened without judgment to these marginalized people in his world. He listened with care, with love.

I imagine that was the great force of his attraction— his gentle yet powerful listening; his ability to draw you in and make you believe you were the only human being on the planet.  I believe Jesus’ power in listening with his heart provided a fertile ground for transformation and healing. He didn’t need to preach to the broken and wounded: it was his listening heart that healed and transformed those in his presence, that set the stage for changed lives, and transformed the world.

What if we really listened to each other without- at the same time - listening to our own thoughts; setting aside our preconceived notions and opinions, allowing the speaker full access to our hearts and minds? Husbands and wives; parents and kids, colleagues, friends, rivals: how would it change the dialogue?

What if, as we listened, we quieted our minds and thoughts, and instead - listened with our senses? What if we listened to the tone of voice, looked into the expression of eye, and stance of hands? What would we hear and see? Memories of deep wounds? A longing to belong? A visceral need for love and acceptance? How would that change the conversation?

What if we listened to another just with our hearts and not with our minds? … seeking to understand in love, and not jump to judgment and execution, especially when their opinions or beliefs are completely opposite our own? How would that change the atmosphere?

What if we stilled our adrenaline rush to convince them of the error of their ways and instead, stilled our minds and slowed the rhythm of our hearts to seek understanding?

What if we realized that the purpose of holy listening is not to change minds or save the world, but to simply understand?

Holy listening creates a ground of mercy and grace in which a real exchange of deep-heart communication can happen - beyond the diatribes of disagreement and disconnection. Holy listening means that I let go of my prideful need to have everything my way; to let go of my desire to always be right - and to simply listen with grace, giving over mercy to the other that I so desire for myself.

Holy listening does not require a judgment of right or wrong; it simply acknowledges our shared humanity, a need to understand each other in the midst of often messy and complicated lives.

Holy listening requires courage and deep humility. It’s why Jesus did it so well, and in doing so, changed the world.

It’s a good reason why we should strive to do the same.