“Listen”
A Sermon by Rev. Patrice Ficken
John 10:22-30
Sanbornton Congregational Church, UCC
April 29, 2007
(Please do not re-print or re-use without permission of the author)
Who do you listen to? Who do you trust to help you stay in touch, stay connected, sort things out? Do you tune into NPR or Fox News? NECN? The Daily Show? The Weather Channel? What, who are your sources? The Monitor, The Daily Sun, the Union Leader? The Belfry Newsletter? To whom, to what do you listen?
In our scripture passage this morning, we are told that “the Jews” confronted Jesus and said, “How long are you going to keep us guessing? If you’re the Messiah, tell us straight out.”
The question is a trap, designed to corner Jesus, to get him to say something that would give the religious authorities an excuse to accuse and arrest him. The question underneath the question is: “Who do you think you are? Who are you, really – and why should we listen to you?” We can hear the sneer in their voice, the disdain. Maybe even a dash of fear. For the things that Jesus has been saying and teaching and doing have been literally turning the tables on cherished beliefs, cherished traditions, cherished ways of seeing and understanding their world.
Jesus, always the perceptive listener, can hear in their question that no matter what he says, this group of religious folk will not, cannot hear what he has to say. Their ears are tuned into one thing only – how can we get this guy? How can we silence him for good?
We remember that this Gospel presents an ugly dynamic. It is the testimony of an early Christian community who has been rejected by members of their own Jewish faith; and who are now searching for a way to understand their identity. While this Gospel contains beautiful imagery, symbolism and testimony – it is also in many ways a deeply divisive document. It portrays a community trying to grapple with who is in and who is out; who is right and who is wrong? It intends to show that the “Jews” were wrong. But we have to remember it is written by people who were also of Jewish faith but who now testified the Risen Christ as the source of their authority; as the voice to whom they turned and listened and trusted. We can’t repeat this enough – because of the ways Christians have used this as an excuse for terrible persecution of people of Jewish faith over the centuries. We have to keep reminding ourselves that this was an internal dispute within the Jewish faith.
So I would prefer to refer to the “Jews” as the religious authorities, the ones who are deeply entrenched in their traditions and beliefs and who find Jesus’ teaching to be too radical a departure from how they understand their faith tradition. It is a classic dynamic – one that we see played out all the time on the national and world stage. Sides get polarized. Heels get dug in. Both sides start talking louder in the hopes of being heard. The distance grows wider and deeper. Sound familiar?
I wonder how many of us think that we’re good listeners?
I always thought that I was until I did my chaplain residency at Mass General. Then I realized just how difficult it is to truly listen, to truly be present to another especially in difficult circumstances.
I think of the very first person I visited as a chaplain. I served the women’s oncology unit. I met a young woman who had just had surgery for ovarian cancer; and who was very, very sick. I tried to ask sensitive questions, to reach through the pain this woman was in, but it was clear each question only served to put more distance between us. Every question I asked was the wrong question. I’ve never felt so helpless, so inept.
Marshall Rosenberg in his book, NonViolent Communication says that most of us do not truly listen. Here are a few of the common obstacles:
“Advising: ‘I think you should….How come you didn’t….’
“One-upping: ‘That’s nothing; wait’ll you hear what happened to me.”
“Educating: ‘This could turn into a very positive experience for you if you just…’
(NonViolent Communication, by Marshall Rosenberg, p. 99)
A great summary of all these tendencies is, as given by my spiritual director goes like this: “I will not shame, blame, judge, criticize, embarrass or even advise you when you give me information about yourself.”
At the root of our inability to listen is anxiety. The anxiety we feel when a person presents us with difficult feelings, difficult circumstances, a situation – to which we have no answers, no solutions, no explanations.
Perhaps the biggest barrier is that we are afraid to be changed by what we hear. We might actually have to shift our perspective. We might have to admit we really don’t have the answers, we really don’t know what to do or say – and we might not like the way that feels.
Jesus knew who was open to hearing him and who was not. He seemed to know intuitively who was listening, who was open to his message.
He faced many barriers to being heard:
The religious authorities, people in positions of power felt threatened by Jesus’ message of inclusion, his defiance of the purity codes and Sabbath observances.
People in his own hometown – who had watched him grow up, thought they knew him – could not open themselves to really see and embrace Jesus for who he became and embrace his spiritual authority. Some even drove him to the edge of town to make sure they did not have to listen to him anymore.
Some were too busy, too preoccupied to listen to Jesus. We remember Martha, too busy in the kitchen – while her sister Mary comes to sit at Jesus’ feet to listen to every word.
I think most of us can tell whether we are being listened to, whether we are being heard. If we pay attention to this – pay attention to who is tuning into us and who is tuning out – this gives us a lot of information about the quality of our relationships.
Which leads us to ask what is the quality of our relationship with God? Are we tuned in or tuned out?
Jesus said, “My sheep recognize my voice. I know them, and they follow me.”
How do we learn to recognize Jesus’ voice? How do we tune into the “Jesus channel” and how do we know we are on the right frequency? There is of course, no guarantee, no real way to prove that what we are hearing is truly discerning God’s call. But there are some indicators that can help guide us.
First, we can tell by the quality of what we are hearing and how it makes us feel.
God’s voice is always the voice of love. God’s guidance is always toward wholeness, toward fullness of life, toward claiming life’s abundance; toward embracing the vision of peace, harmony, inclusion.
Voices that are full of hate; voices that claim preference for one group people over another, voices that call for acts of violence – are never, ever the voice of God.
God’s call opens us up, challenges our self-made views, opens our hearts in compassion. God calls us to lower our defenses, not raise them up further. We are following God’s call when an idea, a course of action – brings increased energy, joy, enthusiasm.
God softens us rather than hardens us.
We know we’re listening to God by the quality of our own words and actions.
Cultivating our listening – takes practice. It requires us to slow down. It requires us to clear out preconceived ideas. It requires all of our senses to really hear what is being said. Often, it is the nonverbal, the quality of presence and intention behind the words that speaks volumes.
Next time we feel ourselves closing up, shutting down, bristling from a person’s words – we might ask what is it within us that is being challenged. Rather than react, we can recognize it as an opportunity to listen more closely. Rather than closing our ears and our hearts – perhaps we can take a deep breath – and allow ourselves to be stretched, even changed. Who knows, the person who is speaking may speak just the words we need to hear.
I invite you to try it. Take this week and tune out, turn off the radio, the television, the newspaper.
Turn off the drumbeat of the voices of hatred and hype, division and fear.
Take time to listen to the voice of the Good Shepherd, to hear the voice of love. Notice how much better it feels. Notice the increased serenity and peace it brings.
God’s love longs to reach us. Our world longs to be changed by our willingness to listen.
Amen.
