I Seem To Have Selective Hearing

Matt Miller, an editorialist in the New York Times, in a piece entitled: "Is Persuasion Dead?" admits he feels the signs are not good. And though his own editorializing is itself an attempt to persuade, he brings up a subject often recognized but unquestioned; namely, our capacity for selective hearing is gigantic. "Best-selling books reinforce what folks thought when they bought them. Talk radio and opinion journals preach to the converted... Politicos huddle with like-minded souls in opinion cocoons that seem impervious to facts." Persuasion seems to have been replaced with preaching to the choir, for example; I only get telephone surveys and funding requests from the Republican party lately and I am particular about the choirs to which I want to listen. I try not to miss the Russ radio show.

When it comes to listening, Bettyann will tell you, I am quick to listen to the things I want to hear. My closest friends will tell you that I am also quick to listen to the things I think other people need to hear. Some years ago, in a book study with several couples on the subject of marriage, several of us mentioned the struggle to actually read the book for ourselves and not for our spouses. I found myself carefully reading the sections I hoped my other half would most carefully notice; another admitted circling and highlighting and handing it over. I'm not sure you can call our attempts half-hearted or good-hearted; for our hearts were not the ones we were putting on the line. Undoubtedly, we missed things that would have been good for us to hear ourselves. Though reading with our own eyes, we were listening for someone else.

Expanding on G.K. Chesterton's clever proverb that between one and two there is often a difference of millions, F.W. Boreham notes the massive difference between a congregation of one and a congregation of two: "A congregation of one takes every word in a direct and personal sense; but, in a congregation of two, each listener takes it for granted that the preacher is referring to the other."

Long after Jacob had tricked Esau out of his birthright, Jacob stood at a dead end. His brother was approaching and there was nowhere else to run. Fearful and distressed, he sent his family and a peace offering ahead of him. And Jacob was left alone. Yet, the text is sort of unclear about this. Immediately after Jacob is reported to be alone, it seems to tell me he is not: "And Jacob was left alone; and a man wrestled with him until daybreak" (Genesis 32:24).

At this time in life when it seems God is speaking most clearly to me is often the least pleasant. Yet perhaps it is in tears and distress that I stop listening for others, and find myself most desperate to hear God myself. Jacob was alone in the sense that there was finally no one else to manipulate, no one else to listen for, no brother or father to trick or blame. He was a congregation of one, wrestling with the beloved enemy who demands everything. When the stranger asked Jacob the very question he had once answered deceptively, there was no one to help twist words for him, no one to answer but him.

"What is your name?" the stranger asked.

"Jacob," he replied.

And the man said, "You shall no longer be called Jacob, but Israel, because you have striven with God and with humans, and have prevailed."

Yes, while attending church and worshiping, with a like minded body of believers, is spiritually healthy, I also am invited to participate in a congregation of one. It is an invitation to wrestle, to lay down pretenses, and to peer at the face of God for myself.

On his way to see Esau the following morning, Jacob watched a new sun rise upon him as he left the place where he wrestled with God. Jacob walked away limping, but with the memory of seeing God face to face. He had heard for himself the voice of God. May I stay tuned this sixty ninth year of my life!