Are You Listening?

Sabbath Day Thoughts — “Are You Listening?” Mark 9:2-9

No one teaches us how to listen. As children, we are told to listen to our parents, and we are sent off to school with the expectation that we will listen to our teachers. But rarely will anyone sit down with a child and offer some practical wisdom on how to listen. Our expectation for kids is that listening will come naturally, but true listening is a skilled discipline. It takes practice, openness, and commitment.

One of the core class series that I have taught with our deacons over the years is “Listening Skills.” Good listening involves creating the space within ourselves to hear what the other has to say. We follow the person whom we are listening to, giving them our attention and setting aside our desire to talk back and interrupt. Listening also demands that we attend to non-verbal communication: hand gestures, eye contact, tone of voice, even the pace at which something is shared. When we listen, we respond with verbal check-ins, paraphrasing what someone has said to make sure that we got it right. We might also ask some clarifying questions if we feel confused or need more information. A good listener will withhold judgment and refrain from giving advice. They’ll also be willing to sit in silence. Until we master the basics, good listening can feel hard work, but it equips us to be exceptional caregivers, just ask anyone who has been truly listened to by one of our deacons.

There are great relational benefits to listening. We better understand the other person’s point of view and can respond with empathy. We recognize that the conversation is more about the other person than about us. We gain a better understanding of problems and may be able to collaborate to develop solutions. Not only are our relationships strengthened and deepened, those we listen to feel emotionally supported and valued.

On this Transfiguration Sunday, Mark’s gospel tells us that Peter was having a hard time listening. There on the mountaintop, Jesus was revealed in dazzling glory and joined by Elijah and Moses, the greatest prophet and the wisest teacher in scripture. It was an awesome and holy moment. I love reading the story of the Transfiguration in the King James Version of the Bible, which says that the disciples were “sore afraid.”

But Peter’s silence didn’t last long. If the appearance of Moses and Elijah signaled the end of the age, if Jesus was filled with God’s glory, then there was work to do on the mountaintop. There were shelters to build and an advertising campaign to launch. Peter could see it all: those heroes of the faith ensconced in their booths, the mountain thronged with pilgrims, the word of God flowing down the slopes and out into the world. It would be glorious. But all those plans ground to a halt as a cloud swept over them and the voice of God spoke. “This is my beloved Son. Listen to him!”  C. Clifton Black, who teaches Biblical Theology at Princeton Seminary, likes to point out that this is the only place in the Gospel of Mark where God speaks directly to the disciples. It’s important, both a declaration of love and an imperative to listen.

Perhaps the reason that Peter was having trouble listening was that he didn’t like what he had been hearing. Just six days earlier, while they were on the road to Caesarea Philippi, Jesus disclosed that he would suffer and die a terrible death before being raised. Horrified that the man whom he had rightly identified as the Messiah would make such a prediction, Peter tried to talk Jesus out of it. That didn’t go so well. Jesus silenced him with the words, “Get behind me, Satan.” On the mountaintop, Peter imagined a way out of the coming suffering: building of booths, create of a safe sanctuary where the ways of the Kingdom could be made known and carried down into the world. But according to Jesus, and now God Almighty, there would be no escaping the cross.

Listening! Not only does no one teach us how to listen, it’s also especially hard to listen when we don’t want to hear the message. Let’s be honest, there are teachings of Jesus that we could listen to all day. Love God. Love your neighbor. Do unto others as you would have them do unto you. But there are plenty of Jesus’s words that we would rather not hear. Follow. Forgive those who have wronged you. Feed the hungry masses. It’s best to be last, not first. Turn the other cheek. Do not be afraid. Only believe. All those teachings are easier said than done, Jesus. This listening business is hard. Jesus sets before us the way of life and the goals of the kingdom, and we don’t want to hear about it.

Our struggle to listen is deeply ingrained in a cultural world that emphasizes doing over being. When we are in “doing” mode, we are goal oriented and achievement motivated. Our credo is “Git Er Done,” the catchphrase of the comedian Larry the Cable Guy. Git Er Done! Take action and get things accomplished. Be proactive and don’t slow down, even when faced with emotional turmoil. Just keep moving forward until you have achieved success!

When we are in “doing mode,” we find ourselves saying, “I have to . . . I must . . . I should . . . I ought . . . I need to. Dr. Zinder Segal, Distinguished Professor of Psychology at the University of Toronto, says that the problem with “doing” is that we aren’t all there in the present moment. We’re mentally off to what is next. In fact, we may even switch into “doing mode” to escape tough emotions, like grief, sadness, fear, hurt, disappointment, and anger. Does any of this sound familiar? But when we are focused on what to do next, we miss the “full multidimensional splendor” of the moment. We are like Peter on the mountaintop, who couldn’t be present to the awe-inspiring revelation of Jesus in his glory because he was already planning his big building project.

The antidote to our compulsive doing is “being.” The catch phrase here is from Psalm 62, “For God alone my soul waits in silence.” In “being mode,” our attention shifts from what comes next to the present moment. We accept and allow what is, without the pressure to change it. The moment is experienced in its full depth, width, and richness. We truly see, we really hear, we listen. We stop the driven doing. We don’t miss out on the people and places that surround us. We don’t wish away our lives thinking about the next big event. We find the space to listen to God and one another. Pastor and evangelist John Warden teaches that, “Our identity is not in what we do but in who we are as sons and daughters in Christ. To pursue God’s way is to be people of ‘being’ over people of ‘doing.’”

Dominican leader and author Richard Rohr is the founder of the Center for Action and Contemplation in New Mexico. It’s an educational nonprofit that teaches the contemplative Christian path of transformation. Rohr believes that the way of God’s Kingdom is found when we find the right balance of “doing” and “being.” We begin with being, with contemplation the practice of holy listening. We rely on the heart instead of the head. In contemplation, we prayerfully let go of our sense of control and choose instead to cooperate with God and God’s work in the world. From contemplation, God calls us to action. Being leads to doing, leads to our service to God’s Kingdom. In fact, the more we grow in our capacity for listening with the ear of our heart, the greater our capacity for world-changing social action.

If Richard Rohr is right, then Jesus took Peter, James, and John to the mountaintop to listen with their hearts. Jesus took his friends to the mountain to find in that prayerful being the courage to follow Jesus back down into the valley that would lead to the cross. If Richard Rohr is right, then our practice of being can also lead to doing. We can make the time to listen to Jesus and find the holy purpose that God holds for our lives.

No one teaches us to listen, but today’s reading from Mark’s gospel suggests that it’s never too late. If we aren’t sure how to listen to Jesus, we can use the same steps that we practice when we want to truly listen to one another. We’ll stop what we are doing and create the space within ourselves to hear what Jesus has to say. We’ll follow Jesus, attending to his words in scripture, listening in times of quiet prayer, and expressing our devotion in worship, giving him our full attention. We might want to ask clarifying questions, by digging into Bible Study, reading what scholars have to say, talking with spiritual friends, or checking in with a pastor. As good listeners, we’ll withhold judgment and refrain from thinking we know better than Jesus. We’ll be willing to sit in silence and unknowing. We’ll trust that when the time is right, our listening will flow forth in holy action, to the glory of God and for the good of our neighbors. Are we listening? May it be so.

Resources:

C. Clifton Black. “Commentary on Mark 9:2-9 in Preaching This Week, Feb. 11, 2018. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/transfiguration-of-our-lord-2/commentary-on-mark-92-9-4

Arlin Cuncic. “7 Active Listening Techniques for Better Communication” in Verywell Mind, Nov. 9, 2022. Accessed online at https://www.verywellmind.com/what-is-active-listening-3024343

Sarah Henrich. “Commentary on Mark 9:2-9 in Preaching This Week, Feb. 19, 2012. Accessed online at Commentary on Mark 9:2-9 – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary

Zindel Segal. “Being vs Doing: The Difference Between ‘Being’ and ‘Doing,’” in Mindful: Healthy Mind, Healthy Life, Dec. 18, 2022. Accessed online at https://www.mindful.org/difference-between-being-and-doing/


Mark 9:2-9

2Six days later, Jesus took with him Peter and James and John, and led them up a high mountain apart, by themselves. And he was transfigured before them, 3and his clothes became dazzling white, such as no one on earth could bleach them. 4And there appeared to them Elijah with Moses, who were talking with Jesus. 5Then Peter said to Jesus, “Rabbi, it is good for us to be here; let us make three dwellings, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.” 6He did not know what to say, for they were terrified. 7Then a cloud overshadowed them, and from the cloud there came a voice, “This is my Son, the Beloved; listen to him!” 8Suddenly when they looked around, they saw no one with them any more, but only Jesus. 9As they were coming down the mountain, he ordered them to tell no one about what they had seen, until after the Son of Man had risen from the dead.


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This Morning

Poem for a Tuesday — “This Morning” Raymond Carver

This morning was something. A little snow
lay on the ground. The sun floated in a clear
blue sky. The sea was blue, and blue-green,
as far as the eye could see.
Scarcely a ripple. Calm. I dressed and went
for a walk — determined not to return
until I took in what Nature had to offer.
I passed close to some old, bent-over trees.
Crossed a field strewn with rocks
where snow had drifted. Kept going
until I reached the bluff.
Where I gazed at the sea, and the sky, and
the gulls wheeling over the white beach
far below. All lovely. All bathed in a pure
cold light. But, as usual, my thoughts
began to wander. I had to will
myself to see what I was seeing
and nothing else. I had to tell myself this is what
mattered, not the other. (And I did see it,
for a minute or two!) For a minute or two
it crowded out the usual musings on
what was right, and what was wrong — duty,
tender memories, thoughts of death, how I should treat
with my former wife. All the things
I hoped would go away this morning.
The stuff I live with every day. What
I’ve trampled on in order to stay alive.
But for a minute or two I did forget
myself and everything else. I know I did.
For when I turned back i didn’t know
where I was. Until some birds rose up
from the gnarled trees. And flew
in the direction I needed to be going.

in Ploughshares, vol. 11, no. 4, 1985.


Raymond Carver was best known for his sublime short stories. He had working class roots, growing up in rural Washington where his hard-drinking father worked in a sawmill and his mother waited tables. At age nineteen, while working in a California sawmill, he met and married sixteen-year-old Maryann Burk. His interest in writing was stoked by undergraduate work at Chico State University, where he was mentored by John Gardner and Richard Cortez Day. Carver supported his family as a delivery man, janitor, and library assistant, often rushing to complete his tasks so that he could spend time writing. Carver struggled with alcohol addiction, quipping once that he gave up writing and took to full-time drinking. He mastered his addiction with the help of Alcoholics Anonymous. His first short story collection, Will You Please Be Quiet, Please?, was published in 1976. It was shortlisted for the National Book Award. He died of lung cancer at the age of fifty.


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A Blessing

Poem for a Tuesday

“A Blessing” by James Wright

Just off the highway to Rochester, Minnesota,
Twilight bounds softly forth on the grass.
And the eyes of those two Indian ponies
Darken with kindness.
They have come gladly out of the willows
To welcome my friend and me.
We step over the barbed wire into the pasture
Where they have been grazing all day, alone.
They ripple tensely, they can hardly contain their happiness   
That we have come.
They bow shyly as wet swans. They love each other.
There is no loneliness like theirs.   
At home once more,
They begin munching the young tufts of spring in the darkness.   
I would like to hold the slenderer one in my arms,
For she has walked over to me   
And nuzzled my left hand.   
She is black and white,
Her mane falls wild on her forehead,
And the light breeze moves me to caress her long ear
That is delicate as the skin over a girl’s wrist.
Suddenly I realize
That if I stepped out of my body I would break
Into blossom.

from James Wright, The Branch Will Not Break, Middletown, CT: Wesleyan University Press, 1963.

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