“They found him in the temple, sitting among the teachers, listening to them and asking them questions” (Lk 2:46).

The Word speaks, but he also keeps silent and listens, like a newborn baby.

As he did in the temple, there are many more episodes where Jesus again keeps silent and listens: when he writes on the ground while being questioned by those who wish to stone the sinful woman (Jn 8:6); on the mountain when he prays in silence to his Father (Lk 6:12); when he is nailed to the Cross (Jn 19:18)… And also today, in the Eucharist, Jesus continues to listen to our words.

Prayer is a school of silence, listening, and action. Jesus asks us, like Peter, “Do you love me?” (Jn 21:16).

The condition for any dialogue, beyond the actual words used, is to love, to respect, to pay attention, and to put ourselves in the other person’s place. There is dialogue in the affectionate exchange of glances between a woman and a man whose love continues to grow in their old age. In the caress given by a father to his sick daughter. In the tears that say sorry and ask for forgiveness. In listening when someone needs to talk, or when we are corrected, or when someone suggests an area in which we could improve.

The walls that prevent us from listening are usually pride, self-importance, the arrogance of poorly understood authority, and the selfishness that blocks our ears to the needs of a family member, a friend, or a neighbor. Superficiality and haste: not noticing, not being on the same wavelength, not realizing. It is disheartening for people to feel they are not being listened to by someone who ought to listen to them.

Fernando Ocáriz, In the Light of the Gospel, pp. 20-21
Photo by Larm Rmah on Unsplash