Desperate Voices
As a priest, I know that I live in a somewhat privileged place of vulnerability. What I mean by this is that because of who and what I am, people that I know...and people that I don’t know feel a tremendous amount of safety in approaching me with their worries, joys, hopes, sorrows, and sins. The intimacy of the confessional provides a sanctuary where a room with a simple screen separating myself from the penitent provides everything needed to become a place where the deepest recesses of the heart are revealed. Even in public, surrounded by people I still have men and women approach me and say, “Father, can you please pray for _________? I/He/she/it isn’t doing well and they could really use your prayers.” These moments seem to come out of nowhere. Moving one moment from hearing of the joys of celebrating the birth of a grandchild to turning to another person to hear how someone so dear to them recently died. The emotional roller coaster is real.
What I have found in my relatively short experience of living within this privileged place of vulnerability is that the actual words spoken by someone in need of prayer really only tell part of the story. In the same way that the visible part of the iceberg is only about 10% of its total size, these desperate voices looking for someone to share the burden of life with often articulate only part of the problem...usually there is much more hiding beneath the surface. A simple request for prayers for an upcoming surgery could be hiding a tremendous concern over financial stability, mobility issues, and maybe even facing eventuality of death for the first time. Continual struggles with the same bad habit may reveal a tremendous amount of self-hatred and shame that cultivates an identity rooted in anything but love.
When people approach us and express a need for prayers or even only to express frustrations or fears, this is that privileged moment of vulnerability that ought to lead us towards greater reverence for that person and their existence. Far from being a time to immediately jump into action and think of all the ways that we can help solve a problem, analyze the situation, or interject ourselves in a way that causes more harm than good, this is a moment to simply receive the other in everything they present to us.
It starts with listening.
Joseph Cardinal Ratzinger insists that “Listening is not a skill, like working a machine, but a capacity simply to be which puts in requisition the whole person. To listen means to know and to acknowledge another and to allow him to step into the realm of one’s own ‘I’. It is readiness to assimilate his word, and therein his being, into one’s own reality as well as to assimilate oneself to him in corresponding fashion. Thus, after the act of listening, I am another man, my own being is enriched and deepened because it is united with the being of the other and, through it, with the being of the world.”
As we enter into this capacity to truly listen to another and be present with them in whatever situation they find themselves, we are actually making ourselves vulnerable to the point that we can know and exist in the other’s suffering in an incredibly intimate way.
This capacity to listen is portrayed beautifully in the Gospel of Matthew (15:21-28) when the Canaanite woman approaches Jesus seeking help for her daughter who is tormented by a demon. The mother has seen her daughter’s suffering. She now approaches Jesus only to first endure his silence and then to hear the voices of his closest followers ask him to send her away. In all of this, the mother persists out of a deep love for her daughter. I am not assuming this love because of the biological relationship - it is shown plainly in the text. When Christ finally speaks to her he says, “I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel” and her desperate voice simply responds, “Lord, help me.”
The mother’s prayer is not, “help my daughter”... her prayer is, “Lord, help me.” The mother’s love is so great that her daughter’s suffering is her own suffering. She truly listens to the voice of her daughter and through that capacity is able to receive her through vulnerability.
Listening isn’t a one way street, though. This capacity to listen goes both ways and forms a dialogue where both persons can vulnerability be present to the other, receiving the other.
Dialogue can be difficult as we all have some level of selfishness within us that wants to be heard and seen. This can lead us to fall into opposite extremes of self-expression where we either share everything or share nothing. We can share everything, not thinking of the one we are speaking to, and pour our hearts out to anyone that will listen. In this case, we are not really concerned that someone is exercising the capacity to listen, we are more concerned that there is an object in front of us with ears and an ability to nod along. On the opposite side of the spectrum we can find ourselves only listening and never really sharing our own hearts. We’ve been conditioned to see ourselves as vacuum cleaners that are always taking in everything we hear, but never letting anything out. We constantly open our hearts to receiving, but we fail to find an outlet for our own interior life.
Both extremes can be damaging as we are creatures that are made for dialogue. The capacity to listen and to speak in love must be practiced, but it is something that we were not only designed for, but also crave. The community formed through dialogue will always find new depths of communication because what is being shared is the very self. Groups of people that only share superficial conversations by gossiping, complaining, or tearing others down will find that these relationships quickly evaporate as only facades of the self are passed around, caricatures of who we were created to be.
In his Apostolic Exhortation Amoris Laetitia (136-141), Pope Francis offers practical advice on cultivating dialogue within a relationship. He says, “Dialogue is essential for experiencing, expressing and fostering love in marriage and family life. Yet it can only be the fruit of a long and demanding apprenticeship.” In order to go through this “apprenticeship” of dialogue we need to take on certain attitudes that “express love and encourage authentic dialogue.” The pontiff recommends:
Take time, quality time
“This means being ready to listen patiently and attentively to everything the other person wants to say. It requires the self-discipline of not speaking until the time is right. Instead of offering an opinion or advice, we need to be sure that we have heard everything the other person has to say. “
“This means cultivating an interior silence that makes it possible to listen to the other person without mental or emotional distractions.”
“Do not be rushed, put aside all of your own needs and worries, and make space.”
Develop the habit of giving real importance to the other person.
“This means appreciating them and recognizing their right to exist, to think as they do and to be happy.”
“We ought to be able to acknowledge the other person’s truth, the value of his or her deepest concerns, and what it is that they are trying to communicate, however aggressively.”
Keep an open mind
“A certain astuteness is also needed to prevent the appearance of “static” that can interfere with the process of dialogue. For example, if hard feelings start to emerge, they should be dealt with sensitively, lest they interrupt the dynamic of dialogue.”
“The ability to say what one is thinking without offending the other person is important. Words should be carefully chosen so as not to offend, especially when discussing difficult issues. Making a point should never involve venting anger and inflicting hurt.”
Show affection and concern for the other person.
“Love surmounts even the worst barriers. When we love someone, or when we feel loved by them, we can better understand what they are trying to communicate. Fearing the other person as a kind of ‘rival’ is a sign of weakness and needs to be overcome. It is very important to base one’s position on solid choices, beliefs or values, and not on the need to win an argument or to be proved right.”
Finally, let us acknowledge that for a worthwhile dialogue we have to have something to say. This can only be the fruit of an interior richness nourished by reading, personal reflection, prayer and openness to the world around us. Otherwise, conversations become boring and trivial.
These recommendations from Pope Francis offer much to reflect on and discern as we can use them to examine how we really communicate with others.
Am I taking time in conversations with others or do I rush them, always moving onto the next task?
Do I cultivate interior silence when listening to others or am I always finding a break in their words to interject my own opinion?
Do I reverence the other in how I look at them, speak to them, listen to them and acknowledge that it is good that they exist?
Do I only try to win arguments and not listen to the concerns expressed by the other?
Am I sensitive to the “static” that can arise from underlying wounds and baggage that can lead to a disintegration of the conversation?
Am I selecting my words carefully or do I speak only to be heard?
Are my conversations rooted in love or in some other motivation?
What obstacles have you found in communicating with others? Have you found other ways to deepen dialogue with others?