As an introvert, I expected a sermon on the practice of listening to be easy. After all, I’m comfortable with quiet. I don’t feel a need to fill up the empty space in a conversation with words. But it turns out that “not talking” isn’t the same thing as “listening”. When I’m “not talking”, am I actually paying attention to what is said, or am I planning my witty response for when I finally get a word in edgewise? Or am I completely zoned out and thinking about what I’m going to make for dinner? Like any worthwhile practice, listening isn’t passive; it’s hard work.

At the beginning of the sermon, Pastor Justin asked the children in the room to draw a picture of the last time they didn’t listen, and what the consequences were. As I take a closer look at this topic, a better question for me might be “when’s the last time I DID listen to God?” Truly listening means believing that God is speaking to me, and recognizing that I want and need to know what he has to say. That in itself is a pretty radical idea - the God of the universe has something to communicate to ME, a tiny piece of his creation. It’s like getting a personal phone call from the President (except a whole lot more so) - exciting but perhaps also a bit intimidating. Coming to grips with that truth means developing an attitude of expectation - when God speaks, it shouldn’t be surprising. This is not some idol of wood or stone we’re talking about; one of the names of our communicating God is “The Word”. 

After recognizing that God wants to speak to us, another important part of listening is to put ourselves in situations where we can hear him clearly. God is perfectly capable of speaking to me in a thundering voice from the sky next time I go for a hike in the wilderness, but until that happens I’ve learned to also hear him in Scripture, in preaching, during quiet times of prayer, and in words of wisdom from other Christians. Yet even in such times, I rarely hear God’s voice if I’m not paying attention. 

And finally, I can’t claim to have actually listened to God if it has no impact on my life. As in James’ example of looking in a mirror and promptly forgetting what you look like, true listening goes hand-in-hand with obedience. Currently I’m doing physical therapy for my ankle injury. If the therapist tells me I need to complete certain exercises and I don’t do any of them, my listening was pointless. If my employer sends out a survey and compiles statistics on the responses, but implements no policy changes as a result, they clearly didn’t listen to the feedback they received.

All that sounds a little exhausting, which might be why I don’t fully listen to God as often as I should. But maybe the problem isn’t that listening to God is difficult, but rather that my secular liturgies have shaped me into a bad listener. A few examples:

• Music or even a tv show playing in the background of my life that I’ve learned to tune out while I go about my life

• Sensational social media posts to get me to react rather than consider thoughtfully

• News delivered as a series of 30-second tragedies, teaching me that none of the content is actually worth deeper attention or response

• Distractions from a multitude of devices that prevent me from spending time in uninterrupted listening

In the face of all these and other obstacles, it’s easy to get discouraged. But that’s not the end of the story. Our God died for us while we were dead in our sins to raise us to new life. That same God bends to listen to us while we are still deaf to him, and by his grace gives us “new ears” to listen with obedience.

O God, “Let my prayer come before you; incline your ear to my cry!” (Psalm 88:2). I acknowledge that I am often deaf to your words and fail to follow through with obedience when I do hear you. Teach me to listen and to reject the secular liturgies that so easily drown out your voice.

~Joanna Hinks