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Eli, Here I am Lord, listening, Samuel, silence, The Sophia Center for Spirituality, voice of God
One of the most commonly recognized stories in the Hebrew Scriptures appears as today’s first lectionary reading. (1SM 3) It’s the story of the boy Samuel in his first days in the temple when “he was not yet familiar with the Lord.” It could actually be presented as a comedy in a religion class with Samuel getting out of bed and running to Eli saying, “You called me!” and Eli responding: “I didn’t call you. Go back to bed!” By the third time this happens, Eli the prophet catches on that God is calling the boy, so he instructs Samuel to answer, saying,”Speak, Lord, for your servant is listening.”
Many of us long for such a clear message from God, and to be able to recognize it when it comes. Some of us have wise people who help us interpret messages when we don’t recognize the voice of God. To be fair, we can’t always count on such a “direct address” as we find in today’s reading. How have you heard God speaking in your life? Do you allow at least a modicum of silence in your days so that you might hear a message? Are you open to new ways of hearing, new sources of wisdom? Have you any prompts in your environment? A candle perhaps, or music? Or perhaps an icon, a favorite picture of Jesus? There are many ways of preparation to hear the voice of God. And always, an open heart can echo this morning’s responsorial psalm, saying: “Here I am, Lord! I come to do your will!” If you put yourself in the place of most opportunity (openness) and make it a habit to call to God, you might be surprised someday to hear God’s voice in answer!
I’m up early to greet the day with Meg Wheatley’s book, turning to one another. (Yes, the title is written in all lower case letters – most likely to emphasize the desire to have a conversation of equality.) I haven’t visited this treasure for a long time but have been trying to live with its messages nonetheless. It all seems so timely now when, day by day, so much in the world seems so fractured. I don’t know why it called to me as I turned to set my coffee on my side table. Perhaps it’s the appearance of the book itself, skinny but tall and dressed in a coat of red and yellow on its spine. Here are the two paragraphs that wouldn’t let me go this morning.
Today we have an appearance of those two outspoken disciples, James and John, the sons of Zebedee. We first meet them in the gospel of Matthew as they are with their father preparing their nets for fishing. As with all the others who left what they were doing to follow Jesus, one wonders about the reaction in their family. We never meet the father again but their mother shows up in the gospel of Matthew asking for privilege for her sons (MT 20) and today we have Mark’s rendition of that event (MK 10:32-45) where the brothers speak for themselves. It’s a rather shocking passage but maybe understandable if you consider the haughty behavior of their mother recorded elsewhere. Asking Jesus that they be “seated one at your right and one at your left in your glory” is not at all in keeping with the humility expected of the closest followers of Jesus. Even worse is the fact that Mark pairs that conversation with Jesus telling the Twelve what was going to happen to him in Jerusalem – his suffering, death and resurrection.
I’m always interested when the Psalm response in the lectionary consists of some verses from a long psalm that fit a specific purpose directly without any extraneous “sidebars” of intervening verses. Today my antenna was up because the stated title of Psalm 50 in the book Ancient Songs Sung Anew was “God Calls the World to Listen.” Since I had spent yesterday presenting to two different groups on the topic of “The Art of Sacred Listening” I was, you might say, “all ears” for the message. I wasn’t disappointed. Here are the salient points.
Sometimes the strangest thoughts bubble up when I’m reading the Scriptures for the day. This year we’re reading Mark and today’s section is the familiar story of the Transfiguration (9:2-10). None of the gospels provides all the details for any story but Mark is especially brief – the first written and shortest gospel. In some cases it’s like reading shorthand. Over the years I’ve become brave enough to try filling in some of the blanks in the stories. I doubt it can hurt; it’s not dogmatic teaching but just conjecture for my own deeper understanding. I think of it as a kind of similar activity to that of movie makers who try to give us pictures to accompany the most visual texts – not always successfully, I might add.
Last winter we decided to offer a series on Mindfulness at the Sophia Center because it seemed that this concept was being talked about in many circles and there were many ways to go about presenting it. We decided on five sessions during which we would explain and then offer examples of a different “mindfulness practice” each week. The topics were diverse: chanting from several traditions, Buddhist meditation practices, centering prayer, etc. and each of them touched somehow on a more quiet approach to life. The series was one of the best-attended efforts of the year so we have decided to continue our exploration of mindfulness. For a number of reasons we chose the topic Hearing With the Heart for this year’s series. It is our hope that we will come to understand more deeply the concept and practice of contemplative listening and contemplative dialogue as we explore hearing and speaking out of spacious silence.
I have to smile this morning as I sit here waiting for a message to arise when prompts are all around me. My brain feels like a broken record and I wonder if I will ever move through a day – or even an hour – without falling out of consciousness. Here’s what I mean.
In keeping with what I said yesterday about Chardin’s vision of evolution in the universe, today we have Psalm 19 in the lectionary readings. One commentator sees this psalm as containing “a grand cosmological vision of a vast universe, alive and full of the divine Presence.” In this psalm we hear the message that God’s word is heard through the natural world as well as in church sermons and our life experiences. I am always happy to read and hear others speak of the importance of the natural world as a conduit of God’s presence and teaching since I learn a lot from observing the depth and function of nature. Here is a suggestion for all of us, the busy people of the world, that might be something to try with the goal of opening us more fully to a deeper way of seeing.