Listening to God: Scripture
Listening to God – Scripture
“If only God would speak to me.” This is a common lament. Sincere believers want God to confirm their choice of career, marriage prospects, or graduate school applications. Some seek a word of affirmation while they sort through periods of doubt or disillusionment. Skeptics smirk at the seeming lack of scientific evidence for a God who speaks. Whatever one’s faith commitments, the curiosity to hear God’s voice is strangely and urgently persistent.
Not too long ago this came home to me in an amusing way. One evening, in the middle of a student conference, I saw a young woman visibly upset sitting outside a room where other students from her college were sharing about their experience. I was dressed in my liturgical habit, a white robe, black scapular and hood, and a rope belt, because I was on my way to lead a service of evening prayer with a handful of Episcopalian students in the nearby chapel.
Kate looked up. Her eyes were red and swollen. She’d clearly been crying. “Are you ok?” I asked.
“I’m just so ready to give up,” she said. “I’ve been asking God to speak to me all week… and God hasn’t.”
“Can you tell me more?” I asked.
“Before I came to this event, I asked God to speak to me… to really… you know… show me if he was real, or if he cared about me... but now the week is almost over and God hasn’t spoken at all.” Kate sighed.
“Can you tell me more about how you are hoping God would speak to you?” I asked, praying silently.
“Oh, I know God speaks differently to different people,” she said, “so really anything… God could have given me a vision, or maybe a dream, or even spoken in a voice, or given me some kind of sign.”
“What have you been doing here this week?” I asked.
“Studying the gospel of Mark.”
It’s hard to capture in words exactly what happened next. A mix of emotions stirred in me all at once. I was aware of deep compassion and empathy for this young woman while, simultaneously, deep conviction swelled within my chest. I wanted to burst out laughing, comfort Kate, and admonish her all at once.
“Have you noticed,” I said, “in your study of Mark, the ways Jesus has jumped off the page?”
“Yeah,” she said, “it’s been really great… I Just wish God had heard my prayer and given me a sign.”
“Jesus is God’s great sign!” I said, letting the conviction come through. “You’ve been longing for God to give you a sign, and all this time you’ve been looking intently at God’s great sign and experiencing the truth and beauty of Jesus.”
“Yeah…” she said, not quite following.
“Then, I think you should stop crying, go inside, and tell your friends what you’ve seen and heard of Jesus this week.”
After a brief prayer of blessing she went inside, and I continued to evening prayer.
The following day Alyssa, the campus minister assigned to work with that particular campus, came to find me. “Did you hear what happened with Kate last night?” She said. “After you talked to her she came into the room and said, “… I was outside feeling sorry for myself, feeling like God hasn’t spoken to me, but then a man dressed like Jesus told me I should come inside and tell you what I’ve seen and heard about Jesus this week.”
And so, God in his sense of humor, sent a man “dressed like Jesus” to remind Kate that the sign she’d been looking for was actually right in front of her. God’s sign wasn’t the man in funny clothes, but the subject of her study, that mysterious and powerful rabbi who confounded the wise and cared for the weak.
Many of us are like Kate. We ache for God to speak to us, to calm our anxieties and banish our fears. We long for God to speak to our confusion about our culture, context, and conflicts. We want a word from God to banish our fears, erase our doubts, and dry our tears.
Like Kate, we need reminding that, while God can speak to us in any way God chooses, God’s great sign is not elusive. God has given us a sign. Jesus’ words and actions reveal the character, compassion, and costly love of God. A curious, attentive, reading of Jesus’ life and ministry will speak to our context and condition.
For example, this week I was wrestling with my own self-pity. I took to my journal to list out all of the dreams and desires that have diminished and died over the years. The question behind the complaint, as best I can tell, was this; does my life have significance? As I wrestled through the resentments and raw emotion, I remembered these words my daily scripture reading earlier that day.
46 An argument arose among them as to which one of them was the greatest. 47 But Jesus, aware of their inner thoughts, took a little child and put it by his side, 48 and said to them, “Whoever welcomes this child in my name welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes the one who sent me; for the least among all of you is the greatest.” [1]
Jesus’ redefining greatness for his disciples, who, like me, are anxious about the significance of their social standing, is God’s word to me. Significance, or greatness, is not a matter of acquiring accomplishments, but of welcoming the weak. Rather than resent lost opportunities, I’m called to recognize the relationships, resources, and responsibilities that reveal the road to true greatness. This requires me to release selfish ambitions that clog and cloud my perspective in order to receive the people, perhaps especially those vulnerable people I may be attempted to avoid; that difficult neighbor, this child, that teacher, these colleagues.
The desire to hear God’s voice is urgently persistent in these anxious days. We need wisdom, insight, perspective, reassurance, comfort and correction. Jesus’ life and ministry will speak to us, even in 2020, if we remember to listen.
For Reflection
1. How does the desire to hear God’s voice manifest in your life and context?
2. How might reflecting on Jesus’ life and ministry speak to your desires?
[1] The Holy Bible: New Revised Standard Version. (1989). (Lk 9:46–48). Nashville: Thomas Nelson Publishers.