Let the Earth listen
Let the Earth listen
On the first line of the Rule of Benedict
Listen carefully, my son,
to the master’s instructions,
and attend to them
with the ear of your heart.
The Rule of St. Benedict, Prologue
The first line of the Rule of Benedict calls us close, and calls us individually. It's a gentle call, not sharp at all, the word of a beloved mentor sitting us down and resting a hand on our shoulder. Listen. His voice is quiet, so we draw near to hear better.
We are not merely listening to the master. He is asking all the earth to listen to all of it: everything: him, the rule, creation, scripture, life, our neighbor, the cry of the suffering, the inner stirrings of the spirit, the wind in the leaves--listen to and listen for. The voice is still, and small. It requires our utmost attention.
Draw near, O nations, to hear,
and hearken, O peoples!
Let the earth listen, and all that fills it;
the world, and all that comes from it.
Isaiah 34:1
There are too many words in the world. Even these words are too many, which is why after a lifetime of writing for publication I finally stopped for a time and wrote only for myself. I wanted to still the voices that crowded around me, but I also wanted to still my own voice, too often short-tempered, sarcastic, destructive. The human tongue can break bone, and our world is broken enough.
When we enter the silence, really dwell it, we learn its language. We hear its eloquence. In time, we learn that speaking little we in fact say more. We listen better. And in listening, we open our hearts. We become receptive to the movement of the spirit.
There are so many words and so much sound in modern life. Some merely bounce off us while others burrow in and take root deep in the psyche, where they do real damage. We all know the truth: the harsh words are the ones that linger. They resound like a bell down through our lives. A thing said to me in anger by a parent or teacher 40 years ago is as fresh as though it were yesterday, while all the warm conversations with a departed friend are lost forever. The cruel and careless words I said myself haunt me still.
We know how the words of others echo in our hearts year after year--how do we dare speak a word less than loving or kind?
O that a guard were set over my mouth,
and a seal of prudence upon my lips,
that it may keep me from falling,
so that my tongue may not destroy me!
Sirach 22:27
And so the master urges us to draw close and listen, not with our ears or our minds, but with our hearts. Leading with the heart rather than the head wasn't easy for me. I adopted the Rule as an oblate because it spoke to my weaknesses, particularly a tendency to overthink and under-feel. This simple opening line offers the threefold way of receiving God: obsculta, inclina, excipe.
Draw near. Listen. Accept.
Draw near to God, through Word, Church, and Sacrament, but also through His creation and his children. Draw near, so that under his loving guidance we can rest and truly listen to the word of love and truth he desires to speak into our hearts. Finally, we accept that word. We allow ourselves to be loved, and to love in return.
But the call doesn't end there, because the three stages of reception are followed by action. As with St. Thomas Aquinas and the stages of prudence (observe, judge, act) we cannot be merely passive hearers of the word but must be doers. The word is planted like a seed in our hearts through listening, then grows in silence, and bears fruit. Like one candle lighting another at the Easter vigil, until the entire church is filled with the warm glow of flickering light, so must our love pass from us to another, and thence to another, until the world is set afire by God's love.
“You long for the power to see, but you must first listen. To listen is to move toward vision. Listen then, bow down you ear for the pendants we are making for you, that by obedient listening you may come to the splendor of the vision. We will make your listening a thing of joy and gladness."
Bernard of Clairvaux
On the Song of Songs