Listen

Preached on the opening night of the annual Chapter of the Anglican Order of Preachers, the Feast of the Transfiguration, August 6, 2024

Psalm 99, 2 Peter 1:13-21, Luke 9:28-36

In our little parish in Southeast Missouri, we do the office of Tenebrae every Holy Week, on Wednesday. We have done this now for over 20 years. If you have never experienced it, I urge you to try it. There is some preparation, as you need a whole bunch of candles, but it is absolutely worth it.

At the end of Tenebrae you have meditated on the Lamentations of Jeremiah, on St. Augustine, and on the Epistle to the Hebrews. You have read a whole bunch of Psalms, putting out a candle after each one. You are left with one lone candle burning, which you hide. By now the church is dark. After a final Psalm, the presider recites an anthem. Then, after a short silence a loud noise is made, symbolizing the stone being rolled away from Christ’s tomb. The final candle is brought back out, and all leave in silence. It’s one of those moments when the space becomes thin, and you can listen. And if you listen, you can hear God in your heart.

That silence, that listening, usually holds as people leave. People don’t want to talk. They want to stay in that quiet space. Some stay in the church for a surprising amount of time after the ministers have exited.

But there always seems to be that one parishioner who can’t help but try to start a conversation, often loudly. It’s jarring.

In this evening’s Gospel reading, Peter is that guy.

Peter, James, and John — the “core three” of the apostles, if you will — have gone up the mountain with Jesus. Evidently they’re pretty tired. The text says they are “weighed down with sleep”. Being sleepy seems to be a recurring theme for them. But things are happening that they can’t help but notice. Jesus is transfigured! His face is shining! And he’s talking to Moses and Elijah!

Now, personally, I think I would have been struck dumb. I HOPE I would have just lived in the moment. But it’s really possible that I might have been like Peter, and felt that I just had to say something, instead of basking in that transcendent experience. Peter is impulsive, and goes with his first thought: to intrude, basically, on what is going on. But God has other ideas.

The disciples hear the voice of God saying “This is my Son, my Chosen; listen to him!”

This is my Son, my Chosen. Listen to him.

Peter, always ready to say something whether it is appropriate or not, needs to be reminded to shut up and listen to Jesus.

Now, as Dominicans we do a lot of talking. It’s our stock in trade. We preach and we teach, and both generally involve talking.

But are we taking time to listen?

We live in a world of noise. We have the noise of our political environment right now. We have the noise of our 24-hour news services. Some of us who are (ahem) older remember when you only got the news a couple of times a day. Now it blasts at us all the time. Then there are jobs, the cares of daily living, all of them clamoring for our attention.

We can work at blocking that out. I think all of us probably have some “quiet time” – perhaps first thing in the morning. That’s when I have my “alone time.” Nobody else in the house is up yet. I can feed the cats, make my coffee, and sit down with Morning Prayer.

And this is good. Nothing wrong with this. But if we are really going to listen to the voice of God, we have to do more than just shut out the world. We have to learn how to quiet the noise that comes from within. We have to learn to let go of our agendas.

When you’re talking, you can’t listen, and vice versa.  If I am spending some of my quiet time in the morning thinking about the things I need to accomplish during the day, I’m not listening. If we can’t take the time to practice quieting our thoughts, it can be a little hard to hear what God may be trying to tell us.

It may be that God doesn’t spend that time talking either. One of my favorite quotes from Mother Teresa happened during an interview with Dan Rather. Rather asked her what she said while she was praying. She replied, “I listen.” Rather then asked her what God said to her. She replied, “He listens. And if you don’t understand that I can’t explain it to you.”

One of the Dominican mottos, in English, is to contemplate, and share with others the result of that contemplation. I think we often take that to mean we think about things like scripture or theology and let people know what we figure out. But that’s really too narrow. In Contemplative Prayer, you don’t think with words. In fact, you generally try to let words go, so you can find stillness. And in that stillness, you can listen.

Now, I’m sure some of us DO practice contemplative prayer, but I’m sure not all of us do. And I’d be willing to bet that even those of us who do aren’t as regular, as diligent as we need to be.

During a recent retreat I attended with the Bishop Kemper School for Ministry, we focused on Contemplative Prayer, led by a Benedictine monk. We practiced three types of prayer: Centering Prayer, Lectio Divina, and the Jesus Prayer. All are useful under different conditions. I personally am focusing on using the Jesus Prayer for contemplation, because you can do it almost anywhere. Any of these forms will work, but you have to practice regularly and consistently to be able to gain that quiet, that listening mind.

This is my Son, my Chosen. Listen to him.

Before we preach, before we talk, we need to listen.

In this, the first office of this year’s Chapter, I would ask that we all take time to listen. Take the time to listen to each other, yes, but also to listen for the voice of God. Listen for what He is urging us to do, for where He is urging us to go. To learn to quiet our own agendas and open ourselves to the possibilities that Christ opens for us. What does He want for our Order over the coming year? Not “what do we want”, but “What does He want?”

I would also challenge all of us to build some form of contemplative prayer into our regular prayer lives. It can be difficult. Believe me, I know how hard it can be to take that time. But I truly believe it is essential for us as Dominicans.

This is my Son, my Chosen. Listen to him.

Let us take the time to listen.

Amen.