Father Joseba Kamiruaga Mieza, CMF
In these times, the words of the ancient prophets always resound, while the time we are going through is marked by thirst and the search for words and gestures that point to a livable present and a future of hope, we are often invited to be vigilant and, consequently, to listen.
Prophecy always asks for an attentive ear but usually fails to find it. However, the invitation to listen, which returns insistently in the Word, is not closed: “Listen to me, you who seek righteousness, you who seek the Lord” [Isaiah 51:1].
Thus, the invitation is to scrutinise, to listen, to grasp the action of God in history: “In that day the deaf will hear the words of a book; freed from darkness and gloom, the eyes of the blind will see” [Isaiah 29:18]. Difficult, very difficult is the art of observing, catching and re-catching.
It is worth asking ourselves what the quality of our listening is and, to be fair, if we are thirsty for prophecy without having the courage, the desire, and the strength to listen to the history we inhabit and the relationships we live. Prophecy is grafted there daily; we need an attentive ear to welcome it.
“The first service owed to others in communion consists in listening to them,” wrote Dietrich Bonhoeffer in Life in Community [1937], when the Gestapo had closed the Finkenwalde fraternity. Listening is, therefore, the first office of the Christian: listening to God, to others, and to oneself, according to the triple classic.
“He who no longer knows how to listen to his brother, in the first place will no longer even be able to listen to God, and even in the presence of God he will only speak. Here begins the death of the spiritual life”: while our days are very often busy talking, saying, writing, and while listening is often reduced to absent-mindedly listening to voice messages sent to the cell phone, a silent pause on the awareness of listening could be a good exercise, really questioning ourselves on the difference between hearing and listening. Even in prayer.
It is worth asking ourselves what the quality of our listening is and, to be fair, if we are thirsty for prophecy without having the courage, the desire, and the strength to listen to the history we inhabit and the relationships we live
“There is also a way of listening distractedly, with the conviction that one already knows what the other wants to say. It is a way of listening impatiently, carelessly, which despises its brother and only waits for the moment of taking the floor to get rid of him.”
Here, Dietrich Bonhoeffer describes well the attitude of too many Christians who already know, who already have the answers—not infrequently—to questions that no one has asked; too many Christians who listen thinking of where the mistake is, where the error has to be corrected.
Too many Christians have to teach the content, afraid of losing the truth, without listening to the existential heartbeat of the person in front of them. Not so Jesus of Nazareth, who invites himself to the house of Zacchaeus before his conversion and who asks nothing of the dishonest tax collector.
The Word invites us to vigilance and listening: with a true existential metanoia we could still be able to discern the signs of the times and the signs of our life, especially today, when words abound, when communication is omnipresent.
To say little, to mature silence, to take root in listening as a tension towards humanity and towards God. Silence is not just the absence of noise, but a powerful tool in the art of listening, creating a calm and peaceful environment for understanding and reflection.
