It’s time for another personal revelation that I can’t quite tell is part of the human condition, or just a sign of my own personal imperfections. So, I’ll be listening to my wife — a gal I deeply love and respect — talk about something that’s just beyond my wheelhouse: a complication with a project she’s working on, a thorny issue with a club she spearheads, an esoteric article she read. And I’ll realize, after a minute or three, that I didn’t understand what she was saying. And I’ll replay it in my mind, and try to put the pieces together, and — nope — nothing.
And so now I have a choice: Do I continue to nod, say “uh-huh,” and pretend that I understand? Or do I risk my own embarrassment and her ire by saying, “I’m sorry; I didn’t quite get any of that”? I usually choose the latter, and my ever-patient wife will rewind her conversational thread until I do, indeed, understand.
For me, this quirk of my listening ability is just a minor foible of married life. But Jesus talks about a related version of this in today’s Gospel selection. There, Jesus warns the listeners that their generation will be condemned, because they didn’t recognize “something greater than Jonah” preaching to them; that is, they didn’t recognize Jesus himself and what he represented.
Jesus, of course, wanted the people — everyone, everywhere — to turn away from their sinful ways and return to communion with God. And he evoked the memory of Jonah, who spread a similar message long ago.
The people who heard Jonah’s message did, indeed, repent. The people of Nineveh listened to Jonah’s words, and — though it was delivered by a tribesman for whom they felt animosity — they nevertheless recognized the truth in his message. From the most downtrodden to the most powerful, they took Jonah’s words to heart. They repented. And they were spared.
Many centuries later, Jesus stood before a new generation, with a very similar message . . . only this time the messenger couldn’t be more trustworthy, more holy, more believable. And the question before them is: Will they listen?
Centuries later still, today — right now — during this time of Lent, you are part of a new generation. You have a choice. And it’s directly related to the act of listening.
And I think it’s important to understand that “listening” is a somewhat deceptive, nuanced, and layered idea . . . as demonstrated by my long-suffering wife. In the situations described at the beginning of this reflection, I thought I was listening to my beloved; I acknowledged that sound was coming out of her mouth, and I heard many of the words she said. But I didn’t understand the message. I was “listening” only at the most superficial level — hardly better than not listening at all.
There have been times when I’ve heard my wife speak and understood what she said, but didn’t recognize the deeper meaning. If she says “I’m going grocery shopping” as she holds a lengthy list, that means she won’t be back for quite a while. If I wonder where she is an hour later, then that means I didn’t understand her even as I heard her.
There have been times I’ve heard my wife and fully understood the message, but failed to act. “The garbage needs to go out,” she says, looking at me expectantly. I understand completely what she means! But if I don’t feel like doing it, then I’ve heard and understood her but failed to act.
And even if her words inspire me to act, is that the end? Not quite.
Beneath all that, there’s a listening that calls for a true conversion of heart. Like the time that I heard my wife grumble exasperatedly about how she doesn’t like to cook. And I heard and realized this wasn’t the kind of wistfulness that comes with day-to-day chores. It was a true and earnest expression of her dislike of that daily chore. And so, realizing that I could improve her well-being and provide for the family, I took on the chore of making dinner, and I found that I quite enjoyed it in a way she doesn’t. It was a conversion of heart, of truly hearing her message and striving to make our world a better place for us.
Dear reader, the mere fact that you’re giving up some of your free time to read this blog indicates that you’re more willing than most to listen to God’s message. And God bless you for that! But search your heart and think about how well you’re really listening to how Jesus wants us to live.
You presumably went to Sunday Mass, just a few days ago. What were the readings about? What was the homily about?
If you went up for Holy Communion, you stood before the real, bodily presence of Christ himself. You took the body and blood of Jesus into your own. What was on your mind at that instance? What was in your heart? Do you even remember? You’d think that standing before the literal form of your Lord and Savior would make an impression . . . certainly more than meeting, say, Tom Hanks. Did it?
Our minds can trick us into thinking we’re listening even when we’re not. Our hearts can hear a message and refuse to act. Our souls can act on a message but refuse to change, unwilling to perform those actions eagerly and enthusiastically.
Presented with Jonah’s message, the people of Nineveh heard — really listened — and acted accordingly, changing their entire beings and saving their souls. Those to whom Jesus spoke faced a similar choice, and many whose ears took in the message refused to let their hearts and souls transform.
And you, during this Lenten season, are faced with a similar choice.
Take a breath.
Listen for the Spirit.
What do you hear?
And how do you act?
Today’s readings: 1 Jon 3:1-10; Ps 51:3-4,12-13,18-19; Lk 11:29-32
