I aspire to be a good listener – it doesn’t come naturally, as so often I have something I want to say. (Five days a week, even!) Listening well is an attribute demonstrated by Mary of Bethany, when Jesus comes to visit the house:
Now as they went on their way, he entered a certain village, where a woman named Martha welcomed him into her home. She had a sister named Mary, who sat at the Lord’s feet and listened to what he was saying.
We often think of prayer as what we have to say to God, pouring out our gratitude and grumbles, our hopes and regrets. But saints and mystics throughout the centuries have pointed to Mary’s posture as the beginning of true prayer, sitting at Jesus’ feet and listening to what he says.
There are a number of ways we can do that. One is by reading and chewing on his words and actions as we find them in Scripture. Taking a small chunk of Jesus’ teaching, or reading, re-reading and putting ourselves into a gospel story about him is a way we can settle our spirits and start to truly hear from him. Talking to someone else about where we're experiencing God's activity and love, and hearing their stories is another way we listen to Jesus.
And we can learn to listen in prayer. Some do that through cultivating meditation techniques like centering prayer, learning to still the chattering mind and come into a place of deep, unspoken communion with God, in which occasionally we receive words or encouragement. Those of us who’s chattering rarely ebbs are hard pressed to truly quiet our minds. But we can open our imaginations to the Spirit, inviting God to make himself known through places or scenes that unfold in our mind’s eye.
For a time in my life, there was a rocky beach in Greece where I met Jesus in prayer in my imagination and shared conversation. That was followed by a musty old English church, a chalet kind of house in the mountains, and most recently a forest glade by a pond. Go figure. I didn’t choose these “mediating” spots, as I call them. They unfolded in my mind as I prayed, and I just went with them, asking where Jesus was. Right now there is no place, just sometimes words coming to mind as I pray, that I believe come from Jesus.
Our minds might not easily become still, but we can bring our bodies into stillness by setting aside time in our day or week, and even a place in our home or office where we settle in to listen to Jesus. I’m sure he doesn’t mind when we talk – our loving God wants to hear from her children. Yet we will find our spirits expand as we learn to follow the way of Mary, and let ourselves listen deeply to that still small voice of God which is amplified in our silences.
We often think of prayer as what we have to say to God, pouring out our gratitude and grumbles, our hopes and regrets. But saints and mystics throughout the centuries have pointed to Mary’s posture as the beginning of true prayer, sitting at Jesus’ feet and listening to what he says.
There are a number of ways we can do that. One is by reading and chewing on his words and actions as we find them in Scripture. Taking a small chunk of Jesus’ teaching, or reading, re-reading and putting ourselves into a gospel story about him is a way we can settle our spirits and start to truly hear from him. Talking to someone else about where we're experiencing God's activity and love, and hearing their stories is another way we listen to Jesus.
And we can learn to listen in prayer. Some do that through cultivating meditation techniques like centering prayer, learning to still the chattering mind and come into a place of deep, unspoken communion with God, in which occasionally we receive words or encouragement. Those of us who’s chattering rarely ebbs are hard pressed to truly quiet our minds. But we can open our imaginations to the Spirit, inviting God to make himself known through places or scenes that unfold in our mind’s eye.
For a time in my life, there was a rocky beach in Greece where I met Jesus in prayer in my imagination and shared conversation. That was followed by a musty old English church, a chalet kind of house in the mountains, and most recently a forest glade by a pond. Go figure. I didn’t choose these “mediating” spots, as I call them. They unfolded in my mind as I prayed, and I just went with them, asking where Jesus was. Right now there is no place, just sometimes words coming to mind as I pray, that I believe come from Jesus.
Our minds might not easily become still, but we can bring our bodies into stillness by setting aside time in our day or week, and even a place in our home or office where we settle in to listen to Jesus. I’m sure he doesn’t mind when we talk – our loving God wants to hear from her children. Yet we will find our spirits expand as we learn to follow the way of Mary, and let ourselves listen deeply to that still small voice of God which is amplified in our silences.
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