The Miracle of Hearing 

“What language would you speak if you could speak any language?” someone asked as we reviewed the liturgical calendar during school chapel and came upon the Day of Pentecost. It struck me, among the news of January executive orders and other standard life complications, that the marvel of Pentecost is not so much the speaking but the crowd’s ability to hear each other. 

We do not hear each other well right now. When a friend posts his “told you so” on Facebook, and his colleague threatens to “unfriend” him, that colleague does not hear the fear that has risen up in his friend, he hears opposition. 

When my colleague and I disagree on a political matter, it is hard to hear that her vote for a candidate I don’t understand is a plea for financial security as she understands it and a nostalgic tug toward a simpler time she remembers fondly. 

And to all our credit, we have many people in politics and government, listed distinctly because they are not the same, who do a lot of work, I believe purposefully on many of their parts, to make a lot of noise that makes it hard for us to hear one another in the political and economic landscape of our civic lives. 

Some folks don’t want to belong to the loud cloud of dismembered governance, and I don’t blame them. Yet, we have a civic responsibility to engage as members of whatever communities we belong to and care for one another in love. Our faith reminds us that we were created to do so. 

Digital media has become an incessant hurricane of overstimulation; waves of input storms crash against our consciousness. The news threatens our physical, mental, and financial well-being, seeping under our doors and breaking the glass in our proverbial windows of sight and sound that we refuse to board up in anticipation of more “bad news” because we must let the sunshine in when we can. 

When feeling threatened or feeling that our needs for safety, love, or belonging are at risk, people will respond in myriad ways. When we are caught up in our own feelings and emotions, it’s harder to recognize other people running around are doing the same. It’s even more challenging to hear their perspective when we disagree with the way they are handling it. 

Like a toddler who throws a tantrum because he’s feeling hungry but cannot yet meet his own needs, rarely do we recognize or share our true motivations and emotions when our feelings grow too big to handle. Sometimes, we simply aren’t willing to do so, and sometimes, we aren’t self-aware enough to be vulnerable with ourselves or others to unpack them.

When Luke describes the fellowship of the believers following Pentecost, he describes meeting together, breaking bread together, and eating together with glad and sincere hearts. This time together in prayer and community allowed the disciples to be filled with awe. Together.

How can we reclaim awe in the depths of difficult times?

We have 100 days until Pentecost, a day that reminds us we are filled with the Holy Spirit. A miraculous day when a diverse group of people with similar human needs came together and truly heard one another. One hundred days until Pentecost and five days until Ash Wednesday.

What would it look like to adopt a Lenten spiritual discipline of committing to genuinely hear those around us?

Here are a few ideas I’m considering for my own spiritual practices.  

• Prayer: How might we make room to hear the Holy Spirit in our lives? What are we hoping to hear? What are we open to hearing? 

• Connection: Can we create the time and space to ask others how they are feeling? When there is something we don’t understand, can we ask, “Tell me more about that,” and then truly listen to better understand their perspective?

• Quiet: What steps can we take to quiet the digital media hurricane of information and input in our own lives while still staying informed? 

• Fellowship: When we examine our time with others, does it allow for genuine connection? Might we pause the busyness of our lives long enough to enjoy a meal or spend quality time with the people we care about? In these moments, can we appreciate the beauty of our diversity, including diverse opinions, and our many shared human experiences like basic needs for food and a sense of belonging.

• Service: How are we using our own time, talent, and treasure to bring love to our communities? Do we base these decisions reactively or proactively? 

As we consider the next 100 days, what is your vision for your little mark on the world and your impact on the people around you, remembering that sometimes it’s not adding to our lives but subtracting that aids our ability to love others wholly. Jesus performed miracles and he retreated to the wilderness. He turned tables and sat with children.

In Acts, Peter reminds us that the gift of the Holy Spirit is for us all, “The promise is for you and your children and all who are far off.” Where is the Spirit guiding you?