Bishop Gates’ Sermon – For Your Consideration

My mom had what we always called “selective hearing loss.” You could tell her loudly a dozen times that you were not going to be able to make it for Thanksgiving this year, but always she was still expecting you when the day came. On the other hand, your stomach could growl softly from two rooms away, and she was immediately there, eagerly suggesting a drive to Dunkin Donuts (her favorite snacking spot) to quiet your noisy stomach. By some miracle of physiology, when you said something she wanted to hear, her hearing was acute; when you said something she didn’t want to hear, she was deaf as the proverbial post.

Perhaps she was not so different from many of us in this way. Our children often display this affliction, do they not? “Pick up your room,” we say. “Get your thank-you notes written,” we say. “Put down that phone and come to supper,” we say. And is anyone listening? Not so much!

But let’s be honest. Our children are not the only ones who fail to hear what has been said. A certain husband presented his wife with a Peace Lily for Mother’s Day, only to be reminded that she hates peace lilies – had never bought one, never asked for one, never kept one that he gave her. On another occasion this certain husband substituted lamb for beef in the stew recipe, only to be reminded by his beloved that she has told him for forty years that she does not like lamb.

We respond but we do not listen. We listen but we do not hear. Sometimes we’re distracted. Other times we just don’t really want to hear what’s said; we tune it out – sometimes literally. It has been suggested that this human tendency has been aggravated in our current age of digital communication. With unlimited access to cable, internet, and satellite radio, we have precise options and complete control over our sources of news and editorial perspective. What we don’t like, we don’t have to hear.

The Gospel reading today speaks of the importance of listening as though we really do want to hear. The Parable of the Sower [Matthew 13:1-9, 18-23] speaks of those who fail to hear the God’s message when it is broadcast. Like seeds falling on receptive or non-receptive soil, says Jesus, God’s Word is heard only by ears which are open and receptive to hearing it. It is not heard by those with a short span of attention; it is not heard by those who allow other priorities to “choke it out.”

How often we say, “I so wish I knew what God wants in this situation!” Yet how much time do we really spend listening? Do we really expect to hear God in our reading of Scripture, or do we view the Bible as outdated and irrelevant? Do we wait and listen for genuine answers to our prayers, or do we assume that the only purpose for prayer is that God should listen to us? We talk pretty well; how receptive are we in return? In the imagery of today’s parable, how permeable is our soil?

Meanwhile, our First Lesson today continues the lectionary’s romp through the Book of Genesis. I understand that your preacher has been focusing on these “Greatest Hits” stories of our Hebrew forebears. So today we have the tale of the twin sons of Isaac and Rebekah. We hear about Esau, the skillful outdoorsman, and his home-body brother Jacob. You know the story – how Esau returns from the fields, fatigued and famished. How Jacob is cooking up a nice fragrant stew; how he waves the ladle around under Esau’s nose; pours a tall pint of Guinness; turns up the air conditioning in the tent; and says, “C’mon in Esau, and take a load off. All of this deliciousness is yours, for the small and insignificant price of your birthright.” “Oh, that old thing!” says Esau dismissively. And the deed is done.

Now, much is made of Jacob’s scheming chicanery – a deception furthered later when he tricks their father Isaac into giving Jacob a paternal blessing which also should have been for Esau. For today’s topic I want to suggest that Esau was not entirely the innocent victim in the matter of the boeuf bourguignonne birthright swindle. Honestly, all Esau had to do was listen – actually to listen to what was being demanded of him. This was not a matter of fine print buried in pages of legalese. Jacob told Esau exactly what he was asking for. But Esau wasn’t listening.

As with the broadcast message of God in Jesus’ parable, as with Esau turning the deaf ear – so with listening in all arenas of our life. The more I experience of life and relationships; and the more I experience crucial moments and life-changing incidents; and the more I observe how our world view relates to our capacity to flourish – in all these contexts, I am ever more convinced that these aspects of our lives thrive or falter based deeply and inextricably upon this thing about which Jesus speaks: listening and understanding.

If we do not really listen to our children, how can we begin to help them with whatever they are struggling with; how can they believe we even care?

If we do not really listen to our spouse or partner, how can we hope to continue walking the same path with them?

If we do not really listen to our friends, how can we hear what joys or sorrows are on their hearts; how can we respond in love to what we do not know?

If we do not listen even to our enemies, nor they to us, how can we ever hope to breach that gulf? How can we find the common ground upon which to stand, to talk, to see one another as global neighbor?

If we do not listen to reports about the changes afoot in our world, how will we evaluate them and seek our own place in the forward progress of humankind which is embedded in our eternal prayer, “thy Kingdom come?”

In our nation these days we seem to have arrived at an inflection point in our capacity or even our willingness to listen. As one who served as an intelligence analyst before seminary, and studied in the Soviet Union during the Cold War, I never thought I would live to see in this country the kind of overt information control we have begun to see: book banning in libraries, curriculum control in schools, scientific information deemed too political to be shared. A teacher’s job is at risk for the honest facing of our history. A television meteorologist resigns after receiving death threats for discussing climate change. A pediatrician tells parents she cannot even discuss their child’s medical situation. Willful non-listening and efforts to control what others can hear – these are on the rise in distressing ways.

In our own world of relationship and caring; in our wider world of commonwealth and justice; here is the task: To listen. To listen well. To listen intentionally. To be not just physically but also emotionally present for those we would love better. To listen for information, to listen for meaning, to listen for revelation. To be as open as we can be, even to the unexpected and challenging. This is the only hope for genuine relationship – with God and with one another – personally, communally. This is our only hope for breaching the divisive chasms that deepen around us.

It begins with us. And it may not be easy for us. Perhaps no one ever listened to us in that way. Perhaps we are afraid of what we might hear. Perhaps we are impatient by nature, always anxious to get on to the next thing. Perhaps we are generally distractible, always thinking of some other situation awaiting our attention somewhere else. Perhaps, God help us, we are self-centered, not really interested in what is troubling or affecting anyone else other than ourselves.

Well then, if practice and discipline are needed in order for us to be fully listening to another, then practice and discipline are precisely what is demanded. If listening instead of only talking goes against our nature, then our nature is flawed and we need to work on that. If impatience or distraction plague the times when we should be fully present with others, then we need to ask God to help us grow beyond that. If we have allowed our listening to occur only in the echo chambers of our particular perspective – well then, even that needs to change, with God’s help.

Listen, my friends. Listen to God. Listen to one another. Listen to hear, listen to understand. And if we do, according to Jesus’ parable, we will be rewarded, 30-fold, 60-fold, a hundred-fold. Jesus says, “Let anyone with ears listen!”