Sunday, October 20, 2013

Listening is an art



   I remember some years ago I asked one of my students in a Literature class to read aloud a paragraph from a local author. When he had finished reading; I asked him to tell the class what the paragraph meant to him. He replied: "I am sorry, Don Ronaldo; I was not listening!"
   Listening is an art and it takes practice. Today in our world of mass communications, we have an abundance of talkers; but, so few listeners. I can still hear my own mother saying to her sons: "Boys, listen with your ears!" Being attentive is an aspect of listening. It says: "I am concerned enough about you to take time to listen." Jesus was a great listener. He equally wanted his followers to recognize his voice and to follow him when challenged.
   How do we listen? To listen means to obey. It is interchangeable in many languages, the root word coming from the Latin, auscultare. Obeying does not come easily. We learn how to obey. In the Caribbean where I grew up; just before supper at 6p.m. when the sun sets, our mothers would emerge from their windows shouting out our names. Our houses are built close to each other. In those days, I seldom heard my best friend's mother calling him. I always heard my mother's voice the first time. Instinctively, our ears as children are attuned to our mother's voice. As we grow older, we tend to tune out her familiar voice and perhaps others who have beckoned us to do good. I think we do the same with our religious convictions. Voices of doom can sometimes seem stronger and drown out solid voices of care and compassion. Amidst all the cacophony of noises in our lives, we still yearn for guidance. The image of Jesus as Shepherd calling out to us can cut directly to the heart: "My sheep hear my voice. I know them and they follow me." Perhaps, if they obey and listen well, Jesus added: "I will give them eternal life and they shall never perish. No one can snatch them out of my hand!" (John 10)
   Are we ready to listen and to obey when summoned! The sun is setting on the horizon and a lone voice echoes: "Ronaldo ..."

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