Christians have a tendency to think that spiritual practices have to be difficult. “No pain, no gain” is a frequent mantra in the physical and spiritual realms. But if you are anything like me, you avoid pain like the plague! Jesus said that if you have enough faith, you can move mountains. That sounds like way too much work for me. I’d rather take a nap…
But what if spiritual practices don’t have to be difficult? For example, take an important spiritual practice in Judaism. It’s called the Shema. For thousands of years, Jews have been repeating the phrase at least twice a day, when they wake up and when they go to sleep. In reciting the Shema, many Jews have believed that they receive the kingdom of heaven.
The Shema goes like this,
Hear, O Israel: the Lord is our God, the Lord alone.
The word “shema” is the Hebrew means “to hear” or “to listen.” This daily Jewish spiritual practice is based simply on listening.
Listening shouldn’t be very difficult, but in a world filled with so much noise, taking the time to listen can be challenging. News networks, political debates, family conflicts — the “winner” is often the person who doesn’t listen, but instead yells the loudest.
Clearly, our culture is off balance. There is too much noise. We need to embrace Shema. We need to listen to the ancient Jewish spiritual practice of listening.
Importantly, the Shema was given to the Israelites after the Exodus from Egypt. It was in Egypt that the enslaved Israelites cried out in their pain and God heard their cry. God listened.
God was the first to practice the Shema, and models for us how to listen to the cry of the oppressed and the marginalized of human culture. In listening to their cry — in practicing the Shema — we become more like the God who listens to the cry of those who suffer.
A few days after the tragic shooting at Umpqua Community College in Roseburg, Ore., I was listening to NPR and was reminded about the importance of listening. They were interviewing a pastoral therapist from Roseburg.
The interviewer asked him a very important question, “You are a therapist. You’ve been trained to handle these kinds of traumatic situations. What can the rest of us do after events like the shooting at Umpqua Community College?”
The therapist replied with the ancient spiritual wisdom of the Shema. He said,
“I’m persuaded that the best counsel in times of trauma and tragedy is less speaking and more simply being present … You don’t have to be trained to listen and sometimes people just want to talk.”
Secular and religious therapists will all say the same thing — in times of suffering, people want to be heard when they cry out. We don’t have to worry about saying the right things or solving their problems. In fact, imposing our words and answers upon them often just gets in the way of their healing.
But the corollary to being heard is to talk — to talk about our emotions and our pain. This is where our culture has problems. We’re taught to not be a “burden” on others. Few of us want to admit to ourselves or to others that we have pain and that we are vulnerable. We’d much rather handle it ourselves, put on a tough exterior, and bury our pain deep within.
But that doesn’t lead to healing. Rather, it leads to more harm, as our bottled up emotions explode during times of stress. Controlling our emotions by bottling them up never works in the long term. When we us that method, we soon discover that we don’t control our emotions — our emotions control us.
The Shema calls us into a different way of life. It invites us to listen to the pain within ourselves and within our neighbors. In doing so, we find healing. And we find very presence of God.
Evil exists…some days more blatantly apparent than others. The endless struggle between good and evil is a cross-cultural theme woven through our beliefs, religions, arts and social discourses for millennia. Our collective human history documents the recapitulation of good vs. evil. Seems like we’ve mastered thriving on the bad and the ugly.
Sometimes I imagine focusing more attention and intention on the good, the kind and the beautiful.
I wonder what it looks like to inspire, improve, do better, try again or forgive…
I imagine what it sounds like with less destructive thinking, fewer fearful feelings, less reaction and revenge…
What’s it feel like to master survival and enjoy happiness?
Clearing out some mind space for clarity, tolerance and compromise.
Filling in more heart space with compassion, mercy and forgiveness.
Today, I attack less and listen more. What do I got to lose?
Tolerance does not necessarily mean agreement…it does not mean judgment.
It doesn’t mean black or white or arguing to get you to agree with me.
Tolerance is gray. Tolerance listens to understand. Tolerance allows for many paths.
Tolerance is open and inviting.
“You have your way. I have my way. As for the right way, the correct way, and the only way, it does not exist.” ~Friedrich Nietzsche