Jesus often spoke in what we know as “parables,” stories meant to illustrate a moral or spiritual lesson. He often emphasized the importance of what he was saying with the dictum: “Whoever has ears to hear ought to hear.” I used to wonder why he didn’t just say something like: “Pay attention, everybody!” or just “Listen!” It’s a little strange to seek out people who have ears, since everyone has them. Sometimes though, if someone is talking to me while I’m doing something else I miss what the speaker is saying. That might necessitate the addition of “to hear” as in “Whoever has ears to hear…” which might then turn my head toward the speaker.
It’s likely that Jesus was signaling a deeper listening, one that would take more reflection because the meaning might be veiled somehow. In that case listeners would need to go beyond the reach of their ordinary minds. Then perhaps it would take the kind of listening that Jesus required for those who were following a different way of being/living. If it was a really important point that he wanted his followers to understand, leaving the other people gathered in the dark until they “saw the light,” his disciples would then perk up and open the ears of their hearts.
When do you listen with the ears of your heart? How is that different for you? Might you hear God any better in the silence?
The lectionary readings for today are a little scary. In the first (from Genesis 6&7) God is lamenting that he created humans at all because of how wicked they have become. The only solution, God thinks, is destruction of all humans. animals and birds. “For I am sorry that I made them,” God says. Thank heaven that Noah showed up as the one shining creation, enough to save the world because “he did what God commanded him.”
Sometimes it’s difficult to know what to say in this complex and over-stimulating world in which we now live. This morning as I was considering the lectionary readings one by one I kept getting interrupted with news flashes. It went something like this:
Everything is so still this morning. It reminds me of the line in Paul’s Letter to the Romans where he says that “all creation is on tiptoe, waiting for the children of God to come into their own.” That image is my favorite translation because it is so visual but also because it implies for me an intense use of both ears and eyes. We won’t see it if we have our eyes closed and we won’t hear it if we’re not really listening. Even if all of our five outer senses are engaged, there needs to be an interior readiness for the in-breaking of God’s presence. I’ve come to the conclusion that it is an incremental thing, sparked either by our own silence or by a communal encounter of recognition. Deeper than silence, the stillness becomes palpable and we know something that we didn’t know before – indescribable but deeply true. Again it is John Philip Newell whose prayer suffices for this morning.
The Sophia Center for Spirituality 