First you have to listen

Learning to live in a foreign language is a truly humbling experience. The longer I lived in France, and as my catalogue of linguistic follies grew – I became convinced that all mistakes in French invariably lead to something naughty. There are the run of the mill mistakes that every one makes – never say that you are full after a meal or you will have just announced an impending blessed event. Be really careful not to use the verb form of the innocent word for kiss – “baiser” – never use that as a verb in polite company. Those are the mistakes everyone makes. I, however, appeared to have a real gift for creative humiliation. Starting with trying to explain why I liked a car with a stick shift and then moving on describing a recipe for apple crisp that apparently called for a liberal sprinkling of some crude version of a scoundrel. But my specialty was liturgical funnies that attributed certain biological functions to God that we would all rather not think about. Where was Pentecost when I needed it?

The idea of Pentecost or all things Pentecostal referring to speaking in tongues is really a bit off the mark – as you heard in the reading from Acts today, the manifestation of the gift was to be able to understand when someone spoke in a language that you normally couldn’t understand. This story has echos from the story of tower of Babel in which the common language of people was scrambled. I was always mystified about why God would scramble the ability to of people to understand each other. Luckily, Rabbi Steven Greenberg explained it all to us at the annual clergy conference a couple of weeks ago. The hubris of Babel was an attempt to replicate the universe in a walled city and make a place in which humans rule, forsaking relationship with God. They attempted to impose man-made unity on divinely created diversity. God loves diversity. The infinite variety of human possibilities is not be limited by fear or anxiety over difference. God’s action at Babel interrupts humanity’s bunker mentality and disperses those who had huddled together in fear behind walls.

Pentecost doesn’t overshadow diversity – the apostles are fully aware that they are comprehending speech in various tongues. What it does is to give us the ability to understand those beyond our borders. Borders are not limited to lines between countries – they are also personal and ideological. Pentecost says to us – “don’t be afraid.” Getting to know someone usually overcomes the idea that their difference is somehow threatening. It can also help you to appreciate your own traditions more. My first two years of seminary were spent in an ecumenical seminary – there were 25 denominations represented. Classroom discussions often highlighted how different churches approached subjects and methods. As I heard my friends discussing their traditions, my own took on new clarity. I had always appreciated the Episcopalian way of doing things – the engagement of the intellect, the respect for difference, the willingness to recognize the grey area between black and white absolutes…all of those things. But in that circle of diversity I was given an context within which a deeper, more critical, understanding of why I am an Episcopalian began to emerge. My sense of belonging was not threatened by exposure to other traditions, indeed it was strengthened. That seminary was a kind of lived Pentecost – we could understand and appreciate what other were saying and sharing. More than once – friends would tell me – I wish my church did things the way yours does. I thought that was amazing. Their statements were not however, precursors to mass conversions to the Episcopal church – those statements were a part of my friends own critical process – on the way to deeper insight into themselves.

As I said before, the message of Pentecost is “Don’t be afraid.” There’s a second message which is implied in the gift of understanding. Gifts are given to be used and you can’t use this ability to hear what someone else is saying if you don’t listen.

When Jesus was transfigured on the mountain – in the presence of Peter, James and John, the voice from heaven that they heard said “This is my son, the Beloved; with him I am well pleased; listen to him!” Now on the Feast of Pentecost, we are told – listen to each other.

A great deal of the work of marriage and family therapy involves the work of listening, hearing and understanding. Teenage angst is usually expressed as “no one understands me.” Communication is frequently a stumbling block for couples. Dr. Deborah Tannen wrote her marvelous book You Just Don’t Understand on the difference between male and female styles of communication. I recommend it highly because as it turns out, it’s helpful to know that men and women have fundamentally different reasons for communicating. Men see communication as a vehicle for solving problems and women see communication as a means of building and maintaining relationships. Not understanding this can lead to crazy making conversations and what couples are left with are “What does she want?” and “He just doesn’t get it!” Learning to listen and understand is work made holy by Pentecost.

When couples don’t know how to listen and hear each other it can cause strife in the home. When nations don’t know how listen and hear each other, the stakes are higher. Molly Bingham is a photojournalist who spent 10 months in Iraq beginning in 2003 working on stories about the growing violent resistance to the American military presence. While she was there, doing what she thought was good journalism, she had to deal with many people back home, some of whom were her fellow journalists, who questioned her patriotism because she thought that hearing and relating to a situation from the other side was important.

Ms. Bingham provides some real wisdom into the work of listening. In an article published in the Louisville Courier-Journal, she writes:

One of the hardest things about working on this story for me personally, and as a journalist, was to set my "American self" and perspective aside. It was an ongoing challenge to listen open-mindedly to a group of people whose foundation of belief is significantly different from mine, and one I found I often strongly disagreed with.

But going in to report a story with a pile of prejudices is no way to do a story justice, or to do it fairly, and that constant necessity to bite my tongue, wipe the smirk off my face or continue to listen through a racial or religious diatribe that I found appalling was a skill I had to practice. We would never walk in to cover a union problem or political event without seeking to understand the perspective from both, or the many sides of the story that exist. Why should we as journalists do it in Iraq?

Why indeed? The need for Pentecostal listening very much alive today. We need those tongues of fire to burn away our stubbornness and fears. The new life that springs up after a fire is an awesome testimony to the creative life-giving work of the Holy Spirit. It draws us into the future God would have us help create. Hallelujah!