Today it is very cold in upstate New York. The outside temperature has remained in the single digits all day and tonight the mercury is to drop down well below zero. It’s the kind of cold that makes you hurt. The frigid air makes it hard to breathe. In addition to the cold, snow blankets the ground in a thick cover just outside my study window. Everything is frozen. Everything is cold. And this makes it all the more compelling to stay inside.
With the door to my study closed it is warm and quiet in here. The ticking of the clock calls me to slow down, listen, and it reminds me to breathe easy. It invites me to enter a quiet place within. This interior space is familiar to me. My prayer life often takes me into this place of stillness and contemplation. Yoga practice also guides me into these interior spaces of peace and quiet. But recently something inside has shifted. My heart has been strangely warmed. Let me explain.
Believing that discernment is foundational to the work and ministry of our Commission on Ministry, our Episcopal Diocese of Central New York is participating in the Listening Hearts training with Suzanne Farnham. Six persons from our Commission are taking the training and I am the “extra” person who observes and will coordinate some of our diocesan training. So on the third day of our training session when a “seeker” is invited to come and work with the group of six discerners my part is to pray. Suzanne and I move our chairs close to the circle but just outside it. We can see and hear but we do not verbally enter into the conversation. Instead we surround the group with prayers and pray silently for the three hours of this discernment session.
As I mentioned, prayer is something I do regularly but I have never prayed for this long in one sitting and with such intention. It was an amazing experience. It was a though I was drawn into a very deep place of listening. The listening was soft and warm. Words spoken by the group resonated within but did not attach themselves to any part of my mind and if the words did linger it was not for long. It was as though the words, spoken both as questions and responses, floated in and out like the tide. Through my heart I was hearing them, receiving them and then they were being bathed in prayer. It was listening at a level to which I am not accustomed. Clearly the Spirit of God was present, known and unknown, in a powerful way. I was being transformed through listening and my heart was being strangely warmed.
Once in a while, however, a question would be asked by someone in the group that seemed to jolt me out of a Spirit-filled place. I would even say it hurt. Not that it was a hurtful question and was intended to startle anyone but it seemed to be out of sync with the Spirit. Either the timing was off or the silence shattered much too abruptly. (Let me quickly say this was our group’s first practice session with the seeker. We were just beginning to learn this approach of discernment and with practice our group became comfortable and proficient with whole process.) But what was surprising was that by praying I could feel the difference in the kinds of questions that were being asked. With a listening heart I could feel the gentleness of the Spirit guiding the discernment group to ask questions and helping the “seeker” as she responded to them. I could feel the presence of God moving among the group and it was filled with healing and hope and love. And afterwards it was affirming to hear others in the group say they could feel our prayers and knew they were surrounded by God’s presence during that discernment session.
Listening Hearts is more than a discernment training program. It is a means by which we as participants are invited into a deeper place of prayer and, with it, a deeper way of listening. Several days after that first training class I realized I was hearing other people in a new way. I was more apt to linger in conversations at Coffee Hour and listen more deeply to my family at mealtimes. I felt less impatient with superficial talk and curious about what more needed to be said than wasn’t being said. After spending those three hours in silent prayer and listening, my heart feels bigger and more open to others—perhaps even more loving.
Living in upstate New York I am quite aware that I cannot stay inside this warm quiet place of my study forever. Church and family responsibilities beckon me to bundle up and brave the cold. And in the same way, I cannot stay in that warm interior space of prayerful listening at all times. But it is very reassuring to know that deep within God is there and I am strangely warmed through listening with my heart.