Listen!

Matthew 17: 1-9
Six days later, Jesus took with him Peter, James and his brother John and led them up a high mountain, by themselves. And he was transfigured before them, and his face shone like the sun, and his clothes became dazzling white. Suddenly there appeared to them Moses and Elijah, talking with him. Then Peter said to Jesus, ‘Lord, it is good for us to be here; if you wish, I will make three dwellings here, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.’ While he was still speaking, suddenly a bright cloud overshadowed them, and from the cloud a voice said, ‘This is my Son, the Beloved; with him I am well pleased; listen to him!’ When the disciples heard this, they fell to the ground and were overcome by fear. But Jesus came and touched them, saying, ‘Get up and do not be afraid.’ And when they looked up, they saw no one except Jesus himself alone.
As they were coming down the mountain, Jesus ordered them, ‘Tell no one about the vision until after the Son of Man has been raised from the dead.’

Imagine…

You’re at Mass. Your priest is saying the words of consecration and says, “This is my body which was given up for you,” and holds up the wafer for all to see.  As he holds the substantially changed and mysteriously beautiful wafer of bread, a voice suddenly fills the church: “This is my son, the Beloved. Listen to him!” Not only is the church filled by this voice but every heart is filled as well. No one doubts that it is the Father’s voice but later no one can say if they actually heard the voice with their ears. Was it authoritative words or was it an instantaneous complete inner knowing? No one can say for sure but all agree that something radical, immense, critical and utterly astounding has taken place.

What would we do with an experience like that? Form committees? Build a shrine? Organize pilgrimages? That would definitely be our inclination because the first thing we want to do with a mystical experience is somehow capture it, announce it and give others an opportunity to come close to the mystery as well. There would also be the desire to create a sacred space, a place where we could leave the ordinary chaos and confusion of the world and come to re-visit and re-member the mystery and the glorious awesomeness of it. We would want to hold this experience close to our hearts somehow, some way, in order to keep it fresh, real and alive. We would yearn to have a place of silence and respect where we could come, recall the moment and do what the Father said to do: listen to his son.

There is nothing wrong with these very natural desires. It is a wonderful thing to have shrines and sacred spaces that are set apart from the hurly burly of the world, places that offer rare silence and a touch of peace. These are necessary spaces whether they are found in a chapel, a forest glade or on a deserted beach. But we must never forget that Jesus went with the disciples back down the mountain. There was no physical memorial constructed of an event of huge significance. There was no material tabernacle built,.

Why? Because the Tabernacle went down the mountain with them. We need our set aside sacred spaces but we must never ever forget that the most sacred space of all is within each one of us and that the Tabernacle of God, Jesus, comes down the mountain with us, right into the noise, chaos and, as our priest likes to put it, the messiness of real life.

God the Father says to us, “Listen to him! Every moment of every day, get into the habit of listening to my son. Speak with him. Discover that my Tabernacle is within you and that the Holy Presence, the Lamp Stand is always lit and always burning in your inner room. Find that place within yourself and learn to say, ‘Lord, it is good for me to be here.’ Speak to my son and listen, listen, listen!”

Too often, we leave the tabernacle behind when we leave Mass. Most of us go out with the understanding that we have been sent and that as Christians we have responsibilities to attend to but perhaps we go a feeling a little insignificant. There can be a sense of, “I’m just one small person trying to make some difference in my corner of the world, trying to be a good disciple of the Lord.” We can feel just a little bit alone and sometimes lonely. But that’s not the case. Jesus is going down the mountain and out of those doors with us. He’s not staying in the church like an executive director sending us out on our own to do whatever we can. He’s not hanging out with Moses and Elijah (or the priest!) while we head on down our mountains. As we are making our way back into the fray, into the crowds and into the marketplace, he’s with us every step of the way. He doesn’t stay behind and he doesn’t go on ahead without us because he is within each of us. He is with us in the most intimate way possible. Even the most loving of married couples will never know such intimacy.

“Listen to him!”  When the Father said this on the Mount of Transfiguration, he wasn’t telling them to listen to what Jesus had to say before they went down the mountain.” It wasn’t a one-off instruction to just Peter, James and John. He was speaking to all of us for all time and it was his intention that there would never be a separation between us and his son and that there would never be a space that could keep us from being able to hear him if we listen. But we can keep ourselves from hearing. We can forget to listen. We can choose not to listen. We can believe the lie that we’re not good enough or important enough to listen and be spoken to. We can have distorted ideas about God and think he wouldn’t be interested in speaking to us. We can get discouraged and think that listening is all right for others but probably not for us.

Listening is a habit and, like all habits, it’s one that develops and becomes stronger over time. Another way to say ‘listen’ is ‘pay attention.’  We tend to spend large chunks of our time engaged in the activities of our daily lives, never remembering to simply turn to the Lord to say, “I’m here. I’m listening…” Then when we go to our prayer time, if we have one, we’re all distracted, tense and harried. We try to listen but we don’t know what to listen for. What we mostly hear is the chattering of our minds.

We have to build up the habit of continual listening during the course of our day and to understand that Christ can speak through everything and anything. We can’t pick and choose where or how he will speak; we can only watch and be open. What better time to start building a listening habit than during Lent? All that’s needed is a short and simple prayer that says something to the effect of, “Open my ears  so I may hear you. Open my eyes so I may see you.” I have suggested to others that a good way to remind themselves to pray often is to choose a small object, like a stone, and put it in a place where it will be seen or felt often: in a pocket, in front of the computer, at the back of the sink – somewhere that will catch your eye several times each day. You could have several stones, or whatever you choose as a reminder, left in different places. Eventually you will not need the reminder; the prayer will rise up out of you unbidden because you will have developed a holy habit of turning to the Lord in a listening mode.  

One thing needs to be understood. The act of listening is not an act of simply receiving instructions or answers to our prayers and questions. The act of listening is an act of love. The act of listening is a critical part of any relationship and there needs to be a commitment to learn the language of his love. In natural relationships, learning to listen to the language of one’s partner is a lifetime activity. Really listening and hearing goes beyond mere words. Committed married couples learn to read each other in many ways other than through verbal exchanges. Learning to listen to the Lord or pay attention to him is far more than waiting to hear some sort of verbal communication; it’s learning to sense his whole being by paying attention to all the small expressions of his love. Those expressions are always there, coming at us all the time. We need to tune in and learn to recognize the movements that speak his love. God has a sign language all of his own.

May his ‘voice’ be like a stream in the desert for you and may your listening be like drinking cool clear water in a parched land.