Love and Listening

AMDG 

I, a simple traveler resting in the shelter of Christmas, to you, my brothers and sisters. I wish you a restful and awe-filled celebration of the coming among us of our God. 

Since the US presidential election, I have heard repeated that people “just don’t understand” each other, nor do they demonstrate interest in understanding. I also hear a theme of reversals: Biden reversed Trump’s policies, Trump will reverse Biden’s policies, and everyone is planning how to undo each other’s hard-won victories in four or eight more years. What wearies me, perhaps because my spirit recognizes it as the true leviathan of our time, is the dearth of love. It’s like we’ve lost the desire or intention to see one another as beloved brothers and sisters. Through the first three weeks of Advent, I was thinking about the pillars of Hope, Peace, and Joy. These brought questions and consolations, but I was missing something. The fourth week brought clarity: Love. 

In his Christmas letter, a friend of mine wrote, “Overwhelmed as we may feel, how much poorer we would be without each other.” There is an easy reading and a hard reading of this. Amidst the tug of war going on in Washington, DC, do we truly believe that we would be poorer without those on the opposite side of the rope? If God is asking me to see those losing their way of life due to climate change, war, and global market forces, is God not also asking me to see those losing their way of life due to cultural evolution and technological revolution in the United States? Or should I break my heart open for one and harden it for the other? 

I’ve heard more about Listening in the past year and a half then probably in the rest of my life, and for good reason. I think listening creates the environment for love. Synodality provides a framework for listening; the Jesuits have their Presupposition; and there are scores of other excellent models available for listening well. Here are some themes that have been resonating with me this fall: 

One: Nonjudgement. We often write people off before hearing what they have to say because we’ve pre-judged them. For example, at a daily mass this month, a fire-and-brimstone priest of my parish launched into his homily with, “The problem with society today is…” and I literally settled into the corner of the pew, arms crossed, fidgeting, wishing I weren’t a captive audience...  until I realized that the priest was giving an earnest address on the importance of unity in the church, episcopal obedience to the Pope, and putting service above politicking. I’m also prone to passively or actively researching a person’s attitude toward LGBTQ issues before talking to them about such. In my context, this isn’t about personal safety. It’s a way to avoid uncomfortable conversations, ones in which I may feel unprepared to properly explain my ideas or ones in which I find the authenticity of my identity impeached. However, this practice effectively silences a lot of people and cuts me off from better knowing them or the nuance of their views. 

Two: Curiosity. I would even say, desire. We need to give the other person time and space to speak, and we must listen actively, seeking understanding even to the point of empathy. Perhaps this is hard because we are impatient. Perhaps because we need to learn how to have conversations with people who don’t understand or agree with us. Perhaps even because we’re afraid of being changed just a smidge or losing security within our own tribe. I recently read a few articles from Commonweal recently which discussed Dignitas Infinita. These articles did not align with my views, but they were some of the best commentary I have heard on that document. Although it made me uncomfortable to empathize with a perspective that seems to regard me as a slightly unreasonable, possibly pathological minority, persisting in hearing out these authors enriched my perspective and makes me want to have conversations. If we trust that in the pursuit of truth we will find God, if we trust in the guidance and grace of the Holy Spirit, and if we believe that God is present in each person, I think we can—and will want to—venture to listen to outsiders with love and without too much fear. We have so much to gain! 

Three: Complexity. We need to allow for complexity. This is important first because people hate to be misunderstood. Your presence, attention, and humility free a person to open up more. It creates a safer environment where they can really unfurl their thoughts. But complexity is also important because reality is complex. Although it’s comfortable to strip issues down to simpler concepts, as if immigration or abortion were a matter of one or another strong policies, meaningful, lasting progress cannot be founded on such fairytales. As a Catholic Church, we can accommodate complexity. Look at our early history, when we were composed of Jews and Romans but made it work. 

Heading into a new calendar year, I am beginning to ask myself how I can leave the safety of my keep and build relationships that will transform our perpetually divided nation into the kingdom of God. It’s such a small thing, but I’m trying to adjust my media consumption to have less of the vitriolic voices and more of the constructive ones. I also started listening to Bishop Barron’s podcast again. I used to enjoy it but dropped off more because of what I started hearing about his views than because I stopped liking the podcast. I think there will be something else to do in 2025, but I don’t know what it is yet. For now, I’ll ask God for the grace to listen; to stay and ask questions when I want to turn away; and to love so purely that I go forth without reservation. 

As my friend said, “Of course, how we live through these coming years will be living testimony of the kind of faith we truly profess.” 

Yours in Christ, Love Incarnate, 

Your Other Brother