The sacred art of listening
Always read the book before watching the movie. This is one hill I will choose to die on!
Writing paints a picture with words but bringing that picture to life leaves something to the imagination. Before watching the movie there are infinite possibilities for how our minds build the worlds we read about. We interpret facial features, clothing, families, and towns, each creating a world of our own. But once we see the movie, it becomes difficult to imagine anything other than the actors and world portrayed on screen.
For me, there is great joy in imagining the world of a book and letting my mind run wild with possibilities. Our brains are storytellers and world builders, creating immersive experiences that become our own. And the movie can never quite live up to the world we imagined.
This gift of imagination has another side. Our brains are so good at storytelling that we naturally fill in the gaps in the stories we hear from others. We make assumptions about why people reacted in a certain way, what experiences shaped them, or where their story may lead. We become so caught up in the stories we create in our minds that sometimes we forget to listen — to deeply listen and truly understand the people around us.
Stories are everywhere: movies, television, books and, of course, the Bible. The Gospel each share the story of Jesus’ life in a unique way, emphasizing the events and details that they believe are most important. Through these four unique accounts, we encounter a fuller picture of who Jesus is. Throughout scripture we hear stories of people encountering God and discovering who God is.
These stories matter so deeply that we set aside time each week to hear them, reflect on their meaning, and discern what they reveal about our triune God and our lives of faith.
Imagine if we listened to each other’s stories with the same intention. What might we learn about the neighbors with whom we share our lives? Where might we recognize God showing up in their experiences? Each of us has a story to tell — a personal witness to who God is and how God shows up in our lives. In our own way, we could each write our own gospel story.
Deep listening, however, requires intentionality. It means removing distractions, resisting the urge to make someone’s story about us, and listening to understand rather than to respond. It means asking open, curious questions instead of filling in the blanks with our own assumptions. It means leaving room for silence and thanking those who have trusted us with their vulnerability.
Storytelling is an art, but so is listening. Our stories are sacred: they help us share who we are and how we experience God. No one knows your story better than you do, yet we grow in understanding when we make space for one another’s stories.
How will you make time to hear part of someone’s story this week? And what might you discover about them, yourself, and God when you truly listen?
