Listening has never been one of my strong points. I know this is true because I am married to someone who points this out on occasion and I have three progeny who seem to agree. My only defense is that I can’t be good at everything – right? Apparently not.
Over the years my family have adopted the practice of leaving me lists. You know, do this and that and if you have time leftover there’s another list in the pantry for you. My frustration with lists is now inversely proportional to my listening skills. So if I had any sense I would work on listening more and thus reducing my frustration.
However it would be fair to say I find this difficult. I have discovered there is a wide chasm between listening to someone and hearing them. Listening is merely familiar sounds finding their way to that part of the brain that registers the noise and files it in some secret place. Hearing means interpreting, understanding and responding. It’s this latter activity that requires what we call “undivided attention”.
Being divided in ones attention to the point of not hearing people properly means we are consumed by something we consider to be more important. And that’s a worry. When my kids talk to me and I’m working at the computer or reading a book and I listen but do not hear, I convey a message that my current preoccupation is more significant than they are.
Now that might seem trite or even extreme. But think about it! is it really? I wonder these days if we are slowly losing the art of communication. We listen, but hear less and less.
One of the tragic sides of being in ministry has been involvement in the often unnecessary demise of marriages. Likewise, I have seen good kids alienated from generally caring parents, or friends part company for reasons that neither fully understand. I know that it’s not uncommon for these things to occur, but I observe them to be increasingly regular features of our social landscape.
There’s a saying attributed to Jesus that goes, “those who have ears let them hear”. At one stage in the Gospel of Matthew he pulled out the sledge hammer by using it as follows, “For this people’s heart has become calloused; they hardly hear with their ears, and they have closed their eyes. Otherwise they might see with their eyes, hear with their ears, understand with their hearts and turn, and I would heal them.”
I wonder how many relationships that have soured would be healed if we would only take the time to hear. My kids and my wife are the most important people in my life, but my listening and hearing do not always convey that.
As Jesus pointed out, often we don’t want to hear because we don’t want to face what must faced, so we become callous instead. Yet what would be healed if we chose to hear and respond? What might be gained far outweighs what is often lost.
© Digby Wilkinson 2007