WHAT'S BETTER THAN HAVING TO SAY SOMETHING

We are a society that bathes in the waters of controversy. Like young birds waiting to fed by their mother, we too wait, mouth agape, for the next controversial story to come through the news cycle. Anytime we are fed, opinions abound.

From Facebook posts and their attending comments, to Tweets, to blogs – we live in a world where anyone has a chance to say something. What we forget is just because we can say something does not mean something needs to be said.

With the massive amount of commentary available online, surprisingly little offers deep insight, true wisdom, compelling thoughts or sensible perspective. The real chore, for any discerning reader, is to slog through the mire of words to find the choice nuggets that actually nourish our heart and soul.

Which causes me to wonder: Why the harmful comments? Why the words that growl when read? Why the insights that plumb the depths of shallowness? Why the ignorance that masquerades as wisdom?

Many believe we have to say something, and do not see we do not have something to say. And if we do not have something to say, then it is better to say nothing at all.

But what is the difference between those who have to say something from those who have something to say? The latter are those who have developed a discipline that is difficult to do and nearly impossible to master. They have learned to listen.

To be still.

To breathe.

To be quiet.

Through this they read more than words and hear more than voices and see more than issues.

They read the desires, aches, hopes, fears and dreams clothed beneath the words. They hear the longing that echoes after each sentence has been spoken, the question behind the question being asked and learn what the soul sounds like when it makes noise. They see the image-bearing human being, the illuminating eyes and what is left unsaid.

They do not only listen to others, but to themselves. They take a candid look at their hearts, discern their true motivations, ruthlessly address their brokenness, courageously confront their fear and are open to hearing from others.

Ultimately, they listen to the Divine.

In the Hebrew Scriptures, the prophets continually say to the people of God, “This is what God says …” For all the prophets performed and spoke and wrote down there was one thing they did more than anything else. They listened. They tuned their ear toward the voice of the Almighty so they would have a word; so they would have something to say.

There are moments when I feel I have to say something. Given my role as a pastor and author it is almost expected of me, and, even worse, I expect it of myself. When I am at my worst what informs my words are: my ego, my craving to be heard and my need to be seen as wise.

But there are other times, moments when I have something to say. When my heart is stirred and there is a fire in my bones and I am weary of holding it in. My thoughts flow as though they come from somewhere else – most likely because they do. The difference between the two is simple. It comes down to listening. Whether I am still, contemplating, meditating and reflecting or only adding to the din too common in our world.

When I do listen I learn that even when I have something to say, that’s not what matters most. What really matter is simply that I am listening and aware and paying attention. For then I have to gift of truly reading, hearing and seeing others and our world. Which raises questions for all of us: How are we practicing the discipline of listening? When do we make space in our noisy lives to listen? What are we hearing when we pause to be still and silent?

Our answers to those questions may well teach us whether or not we need to say anything.