Mark Slouko, in a beautifully written piece, poignantly critiques contemporary Western culture’s psychobabble:

“Ensnared in webs of sounds, those of us living in the industrialised West today must pick our way through a discordant, infinite channelled auditory landscape. Like a radio stuck on permanent scan, the culture slashes us with skittering bits and bytes, each dragging its piece of historical or emotional context: a commercial overheard in traffic, a falsely urgent weather report, a burst of canned laughter, half a refrain. The pagers interrupt lectures, sermons, second acts, and funerals. Everywhere a new song begins before the last one ends, as though to guard us against even the potential of silence.” (in “Listening for Silence,” Harper’s Magazine, April 1999).

The other week I visited some friends I had not seen in awhile – a husband, wife and their three children. I had been so looking forward to catching up with them; they had been great friends in earlier days. I sat in their lounge room, was handed a cup of coffee and a biscuit. There was so much I wanted to share and to find out about their lives over the recent years. Our conversation was continually punctured by a cacophony of electronic mediums in the home; a cris-crossing of disparate sounds, voices, agendas. The TV continued to interrupt and regulate. The mobile phone rang several times and beckoned my hosts to another room. And the jumbled insane mix of Video Hits, Nintendo and talk back radio emanated from three bedrooms. At one point I told my hosts how it had been a tough year in some significant ways for my wife and I. They smiled and I realised that they were distracted by the commercial for sexy lingerie. I drove away with their smile. For the first time in my life I realised a smile could be the most hideous expression. I remembered suddenly like the glint of a knife blade that I had seen such an expression once on a dead person.

Contemporary life seems so distracted, inattentive, restless, unconscious, amnesiac, lost. No wonder we cannot hear God if we cannot hear ourselves or hear each other. We live in a sound saturated, image impaired era. There is so much noise, so much activity, so much sensation, and yet it is all so monochrome, driven by the god of ” the inevitable” market forces. We live in a time that could be depicted in the same language used by the writer of the story of Samuel: “The word of the Lord is rare in [our] days, and visions are not widespread” (1 Samuel 3). The story is such an intriguing one, as the young Samuel dashes to and fro from his room in the Temple to Eli’s room, repeating three times: “Here I am!” Though he did not at that point recognise that it was God calling him, yet he demonstrated his eager obedience and his readiness to be attentive to the Divine Voice. It is only after Eli’s instruction to him, when God called again, that Samuel responds: “Speak, Lord, for your servant is listening.”

Samuel needed the spiritual guidance and insight of the old priest, Eli, to assist him in the art of attentive listening. Likewise we need spiritual directors or mentors or prayer partners to help us in discerning God’s presence and word, in order to begin to know his purposes and also what our response can be within his purpose and design.

The story of God’s people recorded in the pages of the Bible is about those who took time to listen to God as much as it is about those who were distracted by the idols of the day and did not listen and the tragic consequences of their inattentiveness. At the beginning of time, God spoke, and God’s words created the whole cosmos. Throughout Israel’s history, God spoke into the lives of the patriachs like Noah, Moses, Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Tamar, Rahab, Ruth, and prophets, like Isaiah and Jeremiah. Not all listened at first. But God’s Word persists and eventually God could use these ordinary people in extra-ordinary ways. Then God’s Word created, with a new power, and became incarnate in the form of his only Son, Jesus Christ. God spoke to Mary, Joseph and the parents of John the Baptist. Through their silence and attentiveness God’s message broke through. God spoke to Jesus at his baptism, in the silence and awe of that moment, as indeed Jesus learned to be attentive at many other times in the course of his ministry – in the desert times in prayer and as he mentored the disciples.

As the post-Resurrection communities spread the good news of Jesus, God spoke to Peter, Paul, Ananias and Stephen, and many others. And indeed God has continued to speak to his faithful servants – those who are attentive – down through the ages to the present day. Attentiveness to God means creating space in out lives to hear his Word. Creating space means:

* Developing an intentional disciplined prayer life * Participating in a community of Christian faith * Being disciplined about reading and meditating upon the Biblical stories and teachings * Allowing ourselves to be defined by these stories and teachings * Learning from the Christian tradition of the wider Christian community in time and space * Practising silence, learning to listen in silence

When we create space and give time to these disciplines God’s great messenger, the Holy Spirit, stands a chance to be heard in this chaotic, noisy and inattentive world. God is always speaking, but the question is always: are we listening? The Psalmist tells us God’s strategy: “Be still and know that I am God” (Psalm 46:10). When we learn to live in simplicity, solitude and silence the hermeneutical conduit between us and God is reconnected and we can discern his purposes:

* in our hearts and minds * in our conscience * in the pain and joy of life * through the words and actions of significant others * through music, art, poetry, science and the natural world * in short, in all of our human experience.

The great Danish philosopher, Sözen Kierkegaard, once wrote:

“As my prayer became more attentive and inward, I had less and less to say. I finally became completely silent. I started to listen – which is even further removed from speaking. I first thought that praying entailed speaking. I then learned that praying is hearing, not merely being silent. This is how it is – to pray does not mean to listen to one-self speaking. Prayer involves becoming silent and being silent, And waiting until God is heard.”

Frederick Beuchner says in his book, Whistling in the Dark: A Doubter’s Companion (p.107-8), “An empty room is silent. A room where people are not speaking or moving is quiet. Silence is a given, quiet a gift. Silence is the absence of sound and quiet the stilling of sound. Silence can’t be anything but silent. Quiet chooses to be silent. It holds its breath to listen. It waits and is still. “In returning and rest you shall be saved,” says God through the prophet Isaiah, “in quietness and confidence shall be your strength” (Isaiah 30:15). They are all parts of each other. We return to our deep strength and to the confidence that lies beneath all our misgiving. The quiet there, the rest, is beyond the reach of the world to disturb. It is how being saved sounds.”

May we learn to live like Samuel and be able to say with meaning: “Speak, Lord, for your servant is listening.”

Grace and Peace,

Kim Thoday, Hewett Community Church of Christ, South Australia

http://www.hewett.org.au