Listening (version 1.5)

For my new book: Beads on One String

When I had just finished a draft of my chapter Ancient Mysticism I had a dream. In the dream there was a saintly man, and he had just read the draft chapter. I asked him his feelings about it, and he said he liked it very much but there was something missing, that I should add to it. I eagerly asked him, "What should I add?" And instead of responding in words, he turned to the front page of the chapter, and wrote in ink the word "Listening." I woke up, and knew exactly what he meant by that. This chapter is what I am adding to that original writing.

There are many levels of listening, and for some reason, in this present modern age where there is so-incredibly-much information, we as a global culture have lost touch with what it means to simply listen to another person, or what it means for one group of souls to listen to another group, or for one faith to listen to another faith. I see an image of most communication being literally pushed outward from an individual, or from a group, or from a faith towards another, when this new stage of listening development reveals a circular (and reciprocal) flow of energy, where the listening encourages more sharing, and one grows through the receiving of what is being share, and grows through the act of communication.

I am reminded of visits I made to the Monastery of the Holy Spirit, in Georgia, where Father Anthony used to tell us about the lives of the monks there who lived by the Rule of Benedict (and he told us some funny monk jokes, and a great story of when the Dalai Lama visited them). What I remember is that the monks there have their time divided each day into preset parts, such as the reading scriptures, devotions and praying, meditation and contemplation as well as other spiritual practices, and then lastly and quite importantly another aspect, vital to the monk, was not doing anything but simply to be and listen for the Lord. This last part struck me as extraordinary. Shortly after writing this above, and unbeknownst to her, my dear spiritual sister Alison reminded me of this practice of "listening" within the Benedictine Order, and so I feel it is confirmed that I should share it here.

How much time do we set aside to just be with and listen to the Divine, to our loved ones, our children, our spouse, our sisters and brothers, our parents, and our friends? If we belong to a certain faith, or spiritual path, do we "tune people out" when we have decided they are "other" and therefore not worthy of being listened to? Do we pre-judge people as unworthy of being listened to?

One of the criticisms I have had of my own spiritual community over many years is that they tend to put up on a stage, with a microphone, only those who have met the Spiritual Master in his human form. Those who have met him purely spiritually (within) tend not to be invited to speak. Even if the same truths be told, the messenger is often deemed unworthy if they lack the stamp of a physical meeting with the Master. This is misguided. My feeling is that it should probably be the opposite, as those whose faith and experience is so strong that they follow the Master year after year without having met him physically are most worthy of being listened to carefully and having our full attention. The difficulty which arises then is that we must use our inner sense, our intuition, to determine the truth as it is shared. This is no doubt a vital process that many are now being called to engage in fully.

Another way of saying the same thing is that if a child were to speak the same truth into a microphone as let us say, St. Francis, or a disciple of Buddha, would the audience be able to hear and receive this truth as told by the child? If not, there is something wrong with the picture. So listening, at least in part, means embracing the Truth of the situation, not simply accepting it based on the package or wrapping on the container of the message. If a drug addict speaks the truth it is Truth and should be honored as such, and that means listening for Truth in and through all forms. How well do we listen as individuals to others? Do we need to remember how to listen, or work at learning how to listen? What are the tools of listening? How well do we listen as a group, or a nation, or a faith, to other groups?

My wife Lilly reminds me, "there have been examples throughout history of leaders and prophets listening to the Divine within them, and within the people surrounding them, which have led to great changes in the world. Martin Luther King listened to the state of his people and their suffering when he put his neck on the line to lead the civil rights movement in a non-violent manner. This led to the adoption of equal rights for minorities in this country."¹

The Prophet Zarathustra listened to the state of those around him when he gave humanity extremely simple precepts, "Think truly. Speak truly. Act truly." And gave them an image of living fire to represent the purity and reality of Beloved God. These seemingly simple commands are even today found to be so difficult to live up to by most people, showing that the path to Truth does not need to be complicated.

Abraham listened to his Lord YHWH ("HaShem") when the Lord asked him to sacrifice his son as a burnt offering, and he listened again when the angel of the Lord commanded him to stop before slaying him. Who can have such obedience, so total and complete?² This story continues to inspire both Jews and Muslims alike.

Prince Rama listened to his step mother, Kaikeyi, when she exercised her "wish" and exiled Rama for 14 years solely so that her son could be made King instead of Rama. Afterwards, when he became King, millions of Hindus were given the example of Rama's divine life of perfect humility, and called him Lord Rama. Over five thousand years later, Rama's story proves to be a constant example to millions of Hindus of how best to behave in a variety of challenging circumstances.

Krishna listened to his disciples, Arjuna and his brothers, especially Yudhisthira, when they decided it was time for war, and Krishna became Arjuna's chariot driver, showing that the divine life can be perfectly at peace in any role. That Krishna could be an integral part of a violent war between ruling royal families gave many a new view about what it means to be attached to the ways of the world.

Prince Buddha listened to his inner voice when it told him he must renounce his royal surroundings, including his wife and child, and live penniless as a wandering mystic until he reached enlightenment. Not that anyone should take this as an example and leave their family, but that a Prince would renounce not only his family, but all the princely trappings for a life of come what may and spiritual austerities was a dramatic example of living from one's gut.

Jesus listened to God, His Father, in the Garden of Gesthemane when they made the divine decision to go forward with Christ's crucifixion to benefit all humanity. The result, as we know, is the perfect story of the man of love despised by those to whom he reached out with perfect tenderness.

Saint Catherine listened to Jesus when he came to her in her bedroom and gently but firmly ordered to her to leave her room, to re-enter the world, and work for him as he guides her. She did, going first into the kitchen to help her mother, then she became a nurse, and finally she corresponded with the Pope in France boldly begging him to return the papacy to Italy. She was made a "Doctor of the Church" although she was barely able to read and write.

Mohammed listened to his own human nature when he decided to flee from Mecca to Medina, when the Arabian tribes sent representatives to his house to assassinate him in his sleep. He was saved by his own disciple Ali who waited for them so that Mohammed could be safe. Such is love. Mohammed humanness was exalted by God, and he became the perfect man to millions.

And Meher Baba listened to the state of the 20^th century world, when he decided that since God's principles and precepts had been ignored by humanity at large, and so in this present Avataric form he would observe total silence. What happens when the one who should be speaking keeps silent so that those who are saying nothing can have the floor? There is an spiritual unbalance which must be balanced, and when Meher Baba speaks, you will hear something real.

I have been asked to give examples of how we can listen more effectively. What I know is that most people seem to listen for what it means to them, meaning, they hear something that resonates with their own experience and then turn the conversation into something they can relate to, usually turning the conversation away from the speaker, so that they have something to say. I am sure we have all been in this situation. To me, truly effective listening means keeping the focus on the speaker, and when drawn to comment (or feedback) to go deeper into what the speaker is trying to get across. In this way, the focus remains on the issue at hand, and does not go back and forth from one person's sense of self to the other. When practicing this, I have found, the intuition may elucidate something fundamental and important in what the speaker is conveying, and sharing that intuition helps both the listener and the speaker to go deeper to the heart of the matter. In other words, the ego must let go of its desire to be the center of attention and to focus fully on the other for effective listening to take place. 

In a group setting, I believe, one group may listen effectively to another when instead of making demands to be heard, the group sincerely tries to put itself into the mind-set of the other group, and listen for the meaning or issues that are being wrestled with. For example, a group of Christians may desire to listen to a group of Muslims, and in order to accomplish this effectively, the Christians must try to put themselves into the Islamic view, and not push a Christian view into that process. By Islamic view, I mean, imagine that you met a prophet who shared with you what the Archangel Gabriel said to him last night, and what you experienced from this man was divinity in action. Try to forget the senseless acts of violence committed in anyone's name, whether Mohammed or Jesus, or for any cause, and just imagine what the early Muslims experienced. It is difficult but certainly not impossible, and the fruits of this type of listening are astounding.

To give another example, I will tell you what Father Anthony said about the visit from the Dalai Lama to the Monastery in Georgia. He told us that when he came to Georgia the Dalai Lama asked, are there monks living here? And someone said, yes, but in Conyers at the Monastery of the Holy Spirit. So, he said, "Let's go there." And he went with his own monks who accompanied him on his tour, and a translator. When he arrived, according to Father Anthony, he wanted to have the Abbot and some of the Roman Catholic monks meet with him and his Tibetan Buddhist monks, to share their "experiences." What astounded Father Anthony was that as the sharing went on over some hours, something became crystal clear to all the monks, regardless of their faith: they all shared the same experience, but the terminology and culture surrounding that experience was different. In other words, at an essential level, each monk had progressed according to common experiential truths regardless of the ideology or religious background. As a Meher Baba follower who had been given numerous examples by Baba of the unity of all religious ideals, this made perfect sense to me, and it was a dramatic confirmation that there is essentially one Divine Truth, and according to Baba one Infinite God for all humanity, no matter how many ways humans have come to regard this Beloved Divine Being, or which names they use to address it in their tender moments.

As a result, there are so many faiths all over the world all striving to move closer to the Truth of Oneness, to please God in one form or another. The question that must be asked is how can we learn to listen to one another? What can each faith learn from the other faiths to help bring a state of Oneness amongst all mankind? I believe if we beseech the Divine for the answers to such questions, that one will surely guide us.

I am now certain that listening is an aspect of love, and love is an aspect of forgiveness, and to me forgiveness is a divine attribute. Let us move closer to the truth of Oneness through practicing that love that God has done his best to exemplify throughout the ages by sending into the world matchless prophets, avatars, masters, saints and sincere lovers of God, who continue to inspire humanity to embrace the Divine Presence in any and all forms.

Notes:

1. In a discussion of this chapter over dinner November 11, 2007.
2. For the story of Abraham and the sacrifice of his son, see Genesis 22:1-14. This is also mentioned in the Quaran.