A Portable Sanctuary
6
An Inward Attentiveness
Be silent, and listen to God. Let your heart be in such a state of preparation that his Spirit may impress upon you such virtues as will please him. Let all within you listen to him. This silence of all outward and earthly affection and of human thoughts within us is essential if we are to hear his voice.
François Fénelon
As we experience the unifying grace of recollection and the liberating grace of beholding the Lord, we are ushered into a third step in meditative prayer, the prayer of listening.
The word step here might be misleading. It may imply something a little too clear-cut, as if each step could be sharply distinguished from the others. Such, however, is not the case. All these movements or aspects of meditative prayer interrelate and often splash over into one another. It is a living experience we are describing, and like all living experiences it cannot be defined too rigidly. The Lord is the Creator of infinite variety and at times may turn our little steps into one giant leap or teach us to skip or hop or run or even stand still. Always in glad obedience we follow the voice of the true Shepherd.
When we come to the prayer of listening, we put away all obstacles of the heart, all scheming of the mind, all vacillations of the will. There is a hushing of all “outward and earthy affection,” as Fénelon reminds us. A graphic phrase from St. John of the Cross, “My house being now all stilled,” instructs us in the quieting of all physical and emotional senses. The experiences of recollection and beholding the Lord have done their work. We are now prepared for an inward attentiveness to divine motions. At the center of our being we feel more alive, more active than we ever do when our minds are askew with muchness and manyness. Something deep inside has been awakened and brought to attention. Our spirit is on tiptoe, alert and listening.
On the Mount of Transfiguration the voice of the Lord came out of the bright, overshadowing cloud saying, “This is my Son, the Beloved; with him I am well pleased; listen to him!” (Mt 17:5, emphasis added). And so we listen, really listen.
Discerning the Living Voice of God
Now I want to step back for just a moment to consider how we come to discern the living voice of God from, say, our own random thoughts or even the influence of the evil one. I made a passing statement about the voice of God in the very beginning of the book, but now it is time to explore this idea further.
The first thing that needs to be said in this regard is that no formula will suffice. Five easy steps or ten quick lessons simply are not sufficient to a living relationship. The well-known teaching on the combining and confirming action of Scripture, circumstances and inner promptings as a means for guidance is certainly helpful but incomplete. We need more. We need personal acquaintance. We need, to use the penetrating phrase of Edward John Carnell, “a filial bond.”
Jesus made it clear that his sheep can hear and know his voice (Jn 10:11-15). The real question for us is, how? How do we come to discern the living voice of God? The answer is deceptively simple. We learn to discern the voice of God by experience. Sheep (even our pets) learn to recognize the voice of their owner by means of experience. Babies also quickly recognize the voice of their parents. Jesus, through the Holy Spirit, will guide us into all truth. But to receive this guidance and know that it is from the Holy Spirit, we need a certain acquaintanceship, a certain personal relationship with our “inward Teacher.”
We need to explore this matter of acquaintanceship a bit further. Dallas Willard writes, “Certain factors distinguish the voice of God, just as any human voice can be distinguished from another.” He goes on to name those factors: the quality of the voice of God, the spirit of the voice of God and the content of the voice of God.
Regarding the first characteristic he notes, “The quality of God’s voice is more a matter of weight or impact an impression makes on our consciousness. A certain steady and calm force with which communications from God impact our soul, our innermost being, incline us toward assent and even toward compliance.” So a sense of divine authority is characteristic of the voice of the Lord. E. Stanley Jones says, “The inner voice of God does not argue, does not try to convince you. It just speaks and it is self-authenticating.”
The second aspect is the spirit of the voice of God. This spirit, says Dr. Willard, “is a spirit of exalted peacefulness and confidence, of joy, of sweet reasonableness and of goodwill. It is, in short, the spirit of Jesus.” The small epistle of James describes it this way: “The wisdom from above is first pure, then peaceable, gentle, willing to yield, full of mercy and good fruits, without a trace of partiality or hypocrisy” (Jas 3:17).
The third aspect is the content of the voice of God. “The content of a word that is truly from God will always conform to and be consistent with the truths about God’s nature and kingdom that are made clear in the Bible.” God will never lead us contrary to what he has said or done in the past. However, we are not here looking at the incidentals or local customs we find in the Bible. Rather we are focusing on the enduring principles of Scripture. This is why it is so important for us to have a good grasp of the entire tenor of Scripture. These three elements then—quality, spirit and content—will help us learn to discern the voice of God.
Of course, the fact that God speaks to us is no guarantee that we will hear correctly. I can tell you by bitter experience that we will get it wrong sometimes. But then this is all part of our training by means of time and experience to distinguish the voice of the true Shepherd.
Now, I know that all of this sounds a bit complicated in analysis. In practice, however, it flows quite naturally. Jesus is here to teach us himself. We will learn if we have humility of heart.
This brings to mind one of the very first things that happens in us as we wait before the Lord: graciously we are given a teachable spirit. I say “graciously” because without a teachable spirit any word from the Lord that comes to guide us into truth could also harden our hearts. Pharaoh, you remember, heard the word of the Lord and it hardened his heart. No doubt we too will resist any and all instruction unless we are docile. But, if we are truly “willing and obedient,” the word of the Lord is life and light to us (Is 1:19).
The Whispers of God
What might we expect to hear as we listen? The whispers of God are so sovereignly personal and individualized that I must not pretend to know what God might want to say to you. I would, however, encourage you to be open to two things: the ordinary and the unusual. What do I mean? Let me illustrate.
In the early days of my experiments in listening to the Lord, I sensed a distinct word to call a friend, a chaplain at a local college, and see how he was doing. The word carried with it the marks of gentle authority that I had come to distinguish as the voice of the Lord. I jotted the idea down on a slip of paper and continued my prayer. A little later I called my friend. Now, you need to understand that I was his pastor, so the first thing I said was, “Ron, I’m not calling to ask you to do a single thing! I am just wondering how you are doing.”
His response startled me: “Oh! I’m so glad you called . . . ” And out came the deep, pressing needs of his heart. What transpired gave me encouragement that I was on the right track with this listening to the Lord. But the word given was so simple, so ordinary. No flashing lights. No earth-shattering command. Just a simple word that brought comfort and healing to my friend.
Ordinary . . . and unusual. George Washington Carver was one of our great scientists, and he often prayed, addressing God as “Mr. Creator.” One night he walked out into the woods and prayed, “Mr. Creator, why did you make the universe?” He listened, and this is what he heard: “Little man, that question is too big for you. Try another!” The next night he walked into the woods and prayed, “Mr. Creator, why did you make man [meaning, the human race]?” He listened and he heard this: “Little man, that question is still too big for you. Try another!” The third night he went into the woods and prayed, “Mr. Creator, why did you make the peanut?” This is what he heard: “Little man, that question is just your size. You listen and I will teach you.” And you may know that George Washington Carver invented some three hundred ways to use the peanut. Ordinary. Unusual.
Of course we should not be surprised when the whisper of God leads us into simple acts of service and kindnesses. We are led to deliver a bouquet of flowers to an acquaintance who is out of sorts. We feel prompted to shovel the snow off the sidewalk for a handicapped neighbor. We rise quietly in the morning and fix coffee for our spouse. Daily life affords a multitude of such opportunities to serve.
Nor should we be surprised that the whisper of God is often for us alone and speaks into our deepest need. Do we need peace? God whispers over us divine Peace. Do we need strength? God whispers over us divine Strength. Always the word given carries with it a zoë life that is Life indeed!
One of my favorite mentors for listening prayer is Frank Laubach, the great missionary statesman and “apostle of literacy to the silent billion.” His books are simply littered with his experiences of listening to the Lord. Here is one experience from his early days of literacy work when he was alone on the small island of Mindanao in the Philippines. The experience is best quoted in full.
May 24, 1930
This has been a week of wonders. . . . I shall tell you some of the wonders presently. But just at this moment you must hear more of this sacred evening. The day had been rich but strenuous, so I climbed “Signal Hill” back of my house talking and listening to God all the way up, all the way back, all the lovely half hour on the top. And God talked back! I let my tongue go loose and from it there flowed poetry far more beautiful than any I ever composed. It flowed without pausing and without ever a failing syllable for a half hour. I listened astonished and full of joy and gratitude. I wanted a dictaphone for I knew that I should not be able to remember it—and now I cannot. “Why,” someone may ask, “did God waste his poetry on you alone, when you could not carry it home.” You will have to ask God that question. I only know He did and I am happy in the memory.
A Portable Sanctuary
The goal, of course, is to bring this stance of listening prayer into the course of daily experience. Throughout all life’s motions—balancing the checkbook, vacuuming the floor, visiting with neighbors or business associates—there can be an inward attentiveness to the divine Whisper. The great masters of the interior life are overwhelmingly uniform in their witness to this reality. This is represented well in the famous words of Brother Lawrence: “The time of business does not with me differ from the time of prayer; and in the noise and clatter of my kitchen, while several persons are at the same time calling for different things, I possess God in as great tranquillity as if I were upon my knees at the blessed sacrament.” We bring the portable sanctuary into daily life.