God as the Deep Listening
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Jay McDaniel
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Photo by Rodrigo Soares on Unsplash

Deep listening is no casual option. It is what the world most needs.

Today, I will be interviewed by Braver Angels of Arkansas, a citizen's organization aimed at uniting red and blue Americans to depolarize America. I'm being asked to talk about a religious side to the depolarization process.
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I know in advance that one of the first things I'll be asked is to share a recent episode in my life when I have argued with someone about faith. My most vigorous debates have been inside my head, with family members and beloved acquaintances who are on "the other side" politically, but with whom I want to maintain relationships of mutual affection and trust. These internal debates have not typically been about religion, at least at face value, but they have been about what we find most important in life—about values. And in this sense, they have been religious.

In these imaginary debates, I don't expect to "win," but I do wish to be understood. But I know they would wish the same. I fear that, in my imaginary debates, I don't listen well enough. I'm too interested in "being understood."

Thus, it seems to me that, complementary to a consideration of "disagreements," is a willingness to listen deeply—not just to the ideas and policies people espouse, but to the feelings and motivations, the life situations, that give rise to those ideas. This practice—deep listening—is what is sorely needed today. Without it, there can be no healing—victories, perhaps, but no healing. And our religious institutions, along with our educational training, have not adequately trained us in the arts of listening. This, for me, is one reason it is so important to recognize that the living whole of the universe, God, does so much more than speaking and calling and luring. God is the Deep Listening in whose life we might participate, whether red or blue or anywhere else.

- Jay McDaniel May 29, 2024

Sometimes when people talk to us, we aren’t really listening.  We may hear them speak and look them in the eye.  We may nod our heads in encouragement.  But inwardly we are distracted by our private concerns and want to turn the conversation in our own direction.  Before they complete their sentences, we are busy composing our own responses.

And sometimes, of course, they are doing exactly the same thing.  We may be sharing ideas and feelings that are very important to us; we may want to be heard and taken seriously.  But inwardly they are distracted by their own private agendas.  They, too, are composing their responses to our sentences before we have finished uttering them.  An observer might say that the two of us are having a conversation, but in fact we are having two monologues simultaneously.  Two people are talking, but no one is listening.

In order for genuine communication to occur, then, at least one person in the discussion has to set aside his or her agenda and be present to the other.  Of course this willingness may not come easily.  The problem, though, is not always that we are sinful or selfish or self-absorbed.  It is that we are distracted. 

Buddhism and Christianity

The religions of the world – Buddhism and Christianity, for example – offer various approaches to this distractedness.  Buddhists typically approach it directly and in psychological terms.  They compare our minds to drunken monkeys that are flitting from one branch of a tree to another, such that, for most of us, having a calm and undistracted mind – a mind of presence – is very difficult.  We think that we control our thoughts, they say, but in fact our thoughts control us.  Accordingly, many Buddhists recommend a daily practice of meditation as one way of developing a calm mind, so that we can then bring into our daily activities a less distracted presence.  With practice, they say, we can gradually find ourselves more centered and more available to the call of each present moment. 

Similarly, some Christians who are influenced by the contemplative traditions within Christianity recommend a daily practice of centering prayer.  If we learn to “center down” even for a brief time every morning, say these Christians, we slowly understand that we can live from the center in our daily lives.  We realize that each present moment is a sacrament of sorts, and that the very light of God shines through the face of the other people who need our listening ear.  Some such as the Benedictines go further and say that we meet Christ in the other person, whether stranger or friend, attractive or frightening.  “When I was hungry you gave me good, and when I was in prison you visited me,” says Jesus in the Gospel of Matthew.  “And when I needed someone to talk to,” the Benedictines add, “you listened to me.”     

The life of listening is creative and flexible, like that of a jazz musician.  Consider the words of the Catholic writer, Joan Chittister, who is a sister in a Benedictine community in Erie, Pennsylvania.  What Chittister says of Benedictine spirituality; I want to say of the listening life in general.  

"Benedictine spirituality is the spirituality of an open heart.  A willingness to be touched.  A sense of otherness. There is no room for isolated splendor or self-sufficiency.  Here all of life becomes a teacher and we its students. The listener can always learn and turn and begin again.  The open can always be filled.  The real discipline can always be surprised by God."

To be surprised by God.  Is this so different from being surprised by other people, by hills and rivers, by the promptings of the spirit within the heart?  Is it so different from being surprised by a sunset, or a blade of grass, or a dragonfly wing?  And when we are surprised in this way, are we not saying “yes” to life itself, even with its suffering and sadness?  Were we not born for this reason?  Were we not born to listen and to be surprised?  In the surprise there is a kind of awakening. Buddhists call it enlightenment.  Christians call it gratitude.  Are they so different?

Even God must Begin with Listening

In the beginning is the listening.  Families cannot live happily as families, and friends as friends, unless they listen to one another. Neighbors cannot live peacefully as neighbors, and nations as nations, unless first they hear one another’s concerns.  Farmers cannot till the soil, and poets cannot stir our minds, unless they listen to the sounds of creation: to the rhythms of the seasons, the songs of the birds, the howling of the wolves, the music of the spheres.

Even God must begin with listening.  If God couldn’t listen, how could God respond to the cries of the world, or the laughter of children, or the songs of whales?  How could God hear prayers?  How would God know what is happening in the world as it happens?

Of course some people may reject the notion of a listening God because they think that God does not need to listen.   From their perspective God knows all things that happen in advance of their occurrence on earth, because the script of human history is already complete in God’s mind.  Even before you were born, God knew the exact day that you would die.  In God there are no surprises.  To support this idea, they sometimes appeal to idea that there was a time, some twenty billion years ago, when there was nothing for God to listen to, because God was the sole reality.  In this time, they argue, there were no atoms or molecules, stars or galaxies, hills or rivers, people or animals.  God said “Let there be Light” and somehow the heavens came into existence and after that the earth.  But this new creation added nothing to God, who existed perfectly complete, all by himself, long before the dawn of creation.  The world could be destroyed tomorrow and God’s life would in no way be affected.

The creation story in Genesis suggests an alternative to the image of God as an unmoved Mover.  It offers the image of God as the deep Listener who was listening to something other than God even before the world was created.  More specifically it suggests that when God began creating the universe, there was a watery chaos from which God called the universe into existence.  If something like this creative energy really existed alongside God, then God had to listen to the potentialities with the chaos in order to call the chaos into existence.  Still more poignantly, God had to listen to a yearning within the divine heart: a yearning for the chaos to evolve into the heavens and the earth.  What was this yearning?  Did God seek companionship?  We really do not know.  What we do know is that, even in God, there had to be a listening.

The Listener is the Listening

What is listening?  It is the act of being present, of being aware, of being open and available, to what is given for experience, in a respectful and attentive way.  Of course there are many kinds of listening.  It is listening to other people to be sure, and also to the deepest of our deep desires, which are to love and be loved.  If God sought companionship at the dawn of creation, then God was listening to these desires, too.

Of course there are many kinds of listening.  An advertising executive will listen to the public in order to sell a product; a celebrity will listen to fans in order to receive flattery; a torturer will listen to a prisoner in order better to understand what causes pain.  We have in mind what a Buddhist might call wise and compassionate listening.  When this listening is responsive to another person it is gentle and non-violent.  It is guided, not by the aim of conquering or controlling, but by the aim of being with another in a sensitive way, and of responding with wisdom and compassion. 

Understood in this way, then, listening is not simply a matter of the ears.  It can also occur through touch, sight, smell and sound; and it can be guided by intuition, imagination and reason.  When a nurse gently binds the wound of a person who is injured, she is listening with her hands; when a businessman calculates the possible outcomes of a business decision with an eye to serving the poor, he is listening with his reason.  There are many ways to listen and there are many kinds of listeners.  People who do not hear very well can listen very deeply; and people with perfect hearing can fail to listen.  

When we truly listen to others, we are not self-preoccupied or anxious.  We are not even aware of ourselves because we are absorbed in who they are, in what they are saying, in how they present themselves.  From our side of things we become them for that moment, not unlike the way in which we become music when we listen to music we love.  And so it is that God becomes the world, moment by moment.  At least this is how Whitehead saw things.  For him God is not different from the act of listening to the world and sharing in its sufferings.  God is the act of listening.  Thus we can speak of God as the Deep Listening, everywhere at once, both witness to, and sharing in, all the sufferings of the world.  Like Christ; like Kuan Yin.  When we listen to others in caring ways, we become their ears and hearts.  People meet them through us.  “When I was hungry you gave me food, when I was lonely you listened to me.” 

爱的倾听的一面
给说得过多的人
杰伊·麦克丹尼尔
杜安娜（译）；谢邦秀（校核）

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有时，当人们和我们说话时，我们并没有真的在听。我们可能在看着他们的眼睛，听见他们在说。我们可能在点头以示鼓励。但是在内心，我们却因自己所关心的事而分心，想将谈话转向我们自己。在他们说完话之前，我们已在忙于组织自己的回答了。

当然，有时他们也在如此行为。我们可能在分享对我们来说很重要的观点和感受；我们可能想要被听见，被认真对待。但是在内心，他们却因他们自己的私事而走神。他们也同样在我们还没有说完话之前就在组织对我们的回答了。旁观者可能会说我们两个在交谈，但实际上我们只不过是在同时进行各自的独白。两个人都在说，却没有一个人在听。

那么，为了使真正的交流发生，讨论中至少有一方必须放下他或她自己的事，专心听对方说话。当然，这种甘愿可能来之不易。不过，问题并不总是在于我们有罪、自私、或固执己见。而是因为我们分心了。

佛教与基督教世界上的宗教——如佛教和基督教——针对分心提供了各种各样的解决方法。佛教徒典型的处理办法是直接从心理上着手。他们把我们的心灵比作从一根树枝荡到另一根树枝的醉猴，以至于对我们大多数人来说，很难保持心灵的平静与专注。他们说，我们以为是我们在控制我们的思想，但实际上是我们的思想在控制我们。于是，许多佛教徒劝告人们以每天练习冥想作为养成平静的心灵的方法，这样我们就可以带着一种更少分心的状态从事日常活动。他们说，通过（冥想）练习，我们能够渐渐地发现我们自己可以更集中、更有效地回应每一个当前时刻的呼唤。

同样，深受基督教沉思传统影响的基督徒建议养成每天归心祷告的习惯。这些基督徒说，如果我们能够学着哪怕每天早上用很简短的时间“归心（祷告）”，我们就能慢慢明白我们能够以我们日常生活为中心来生活。我们（就能）认识到每一个当前时刻都是一份某种形式的圣礼，上帝本人的光芒是通过那些需要我们去侧耳倾听的他人的脸在照耀的。有些人如本笃会徒走得更远，（他们）说我们可以在其他人身上见到耶稣，（这个其他的人可能是）陌生人或朋友，（可能）很迷人或令人恐惧。耶稣在马太福音里说，“我饥饿时你给我食物，我坐牢时你来看望我。”本笃会徒补充道，“我需要对人说话时，你听我说话。”

倾听的生活富有创造性和灵活性，如爵士乐演奏者的生活那样。（我们）来看看琼·基蒂斯特说的话，她是宾夕法尼亚州伊利本笃会的一名修女，一位天主教作家。基蒂斯特所说的是本笃会精神；我要说的是一般的倾听的生活。

本笃会精神是一种敞开心扉的精神，一种情愿被感动的意愿。一种他者性意识。孤立的光彩或自满没有存在的空间。在这里，整个生活就是老师，而我们是它的学生。倾听者总是在学习、转变、重新开始。开放（的空间）总是能够被填满。真正的纪律总是会惊讶于上帝。

惊讶于上帝。这与惊讶于其他的人、惊讶于山川与河流、惊讶于内心的精神激励有很大的差异吗？这与惊讶于日落、惊讶于小草的叶片、惊讶于蜻蜓的翅膀有很大的不同吗？而当我们这样感到吃惊时，难道我们不是在对生活本身，即使其中有痛苦和悲伤，说“是”吗？难道我们不是为了这个原因而降生人世的吗？难道我们降生为人不是为了倾听和感到惊奇吗？惊奇中有一种觉醒。佛教徒称之为觉悟。基督徒称之为感恩。他们差异很大吗？

即使上帝也必须从倾听开始开始时要倾听。除非他们相互倾听，否则家人和家人一起生活、朋友和朋友相处就不能快乐。除非他们先相互倾听对方关注的事情，否则邻里之间、国与国之间就不能和平共处。除非他们倾听创造的声音：倾听四季的节奏、鸟儿的歌唱、群狼的咆哮、天体的乐曲，否则农民就无法耕种土地，诗人就不能激动我们的心灵。

即使上帝也必需从倾听开始。如果上帝不能倾听，他怎么能够回应世界的呼喊、孩子的笑声、或鲸鱼的歌声？上帝如何听得见祈祷？上帝怎么会在事件发生的当时就知道世界上正在发生什么（事件）呢？

当然，有些人可能拒绝接受一个倾听的上帝概念，因为他们认为上帝不需要倾听。在他们看来，早在事件在地球上发生之前上帝就知道了所要发生的一切，因为上帝的头脑里已经有了一部完整的人类历史脚本。甚至在你出生之前，上帝就已经知道你离世的准确日子了。在上帝那里没有惊奇。为了支持这种观点，他们有时呼吁这样的观点，即曾经有某个时候，大约是二百亿年前，上帝没有什么可倾听的，因为上帝是唯一的实在。他们说在那个时候，没有原子或分子、星体或星系、山川或河流、人类或动物。上帝说“要有光”，于是，天空以某种方式出现了，之后出现了大地。但是这种新的创造没有给上帝增加什么，在创世的黎明到来之前很久，他就独自存在，完整无缺。世界可能会在明天毁灭，而上帝的生命绝不会受到任何影响。

《创世纪》中的创世故事提出了一种选择来替代上帝作为不可动摇的推动者形象。它提供的是一种上帝作为深刻的倾听者的形象，他在倾听除上帝以外的别的东西（的声音），甚至在创世之前（亦如此）。更具体地说，它提出当上帝开始创造宇宙时已经存在一个有水的混沌，上帝就是从中唤出宇宙的。如果某种像这样的创造力真的曾与上帝同在，那么上帝就不得不倾听这种混沌的潜力，以便将混沌变为现实。更深刻地说，上帝不得不倾听圣心的渴望，渴望混沌衍变成天与地。这种渴望是什么？上帝是在寻求伴侣吗？我们真的不知道。而我们确实知道的是，即使在上帝心里也必须有倾听。
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听者即倾听倾听是什么？它是一种以尊敬和专注的方式对所提供的需体验的事情采取的在场、注意、开放、有效的行为。当然，有很多种倾听。肯定要倾听他人，但也要倾听我们内心深处的心愿，即（渴望）爱与被爱。如果上帝在创世的黎明时分在寻求伴侣，那么上帝也是在倾听这样的心愿。

当然，有很多种倾听。广告经理会听公众的意见以卖出产品；名人要听粉丝的反应已得到追捧；拷问者要听囚犯的呻吟以更明白什么能导致痛苦。我们记得那种佛教徒可能会称之为智慧和慈悲的倾听。当这种倾听是回应另一个人时，那么它是温和的、非暴力的。它并非旨在征服和控制，而是旨在以一种敏感的方式与他人相处，以智慧和慈悲回应他人。

因此，这样理解的话，倾听并非只能用耳朵。它也可以通过触觉、视觉、嗅觉和声音来发生；它能够受直觉、想象力和理性的引导。当一名护士轻轻地给一位伤者包扎伤口时，她是在用她的双手倾听；当一位商人心里想着为穷人服务而计算某个商业决策可能的成效时，他是在用其理性倾听。有很多种倾听的方式，也有很多种倾听者。听觉不是很灵敏的人可能会深刻地倾听；而听觉完好的人却可能不去倾听。

当我们真诚地倾听别人的时候，我们不会关注自我或感到焦虑。我们甚至意识不到我们自己的存在，因为我们专注于他们是谁、他们在说什么、他们是如何介绍他们自己的。在那一刻我们走出我们这方面的事情，变成了他们，这与我们在听我们喜欢的音乐时变得有乐感的方式没有什么不同。上帝就是这样，时时刻刻，变成世界的。至少这是怀特海看事情的方式。对他来说，上帝等同于倾听世界并分担其苦难。上帝即倾听。因此我们可以称上帝为“深深的倾听”，同时、在各处，既见证、又分担这个世界的所有痛苦。像耶稣；像观音。当我们以关爱的方式倾听他人时，我们就变成了他们的耳朵、他们的心。人们可以通过我们遇见他们。“当我饥饿时你给我食物，当我寂寞时你听我说话”。