Listening Prayer
Luke 1:5-23, 76-79
[Read Luke 1:5-23]
It was the middle of the morning at the Temple in Jerusalem. A group of about fifty priests were gathered to cast lots to determine who would have the honor of entering into the Most Holy Place to offer incense at the altar. The burning of incense was symbolic of Israel’s prayers ascending to heaven. And Israel’s most fervent prayer was for the coming of the Messiah, as foretold by the prophets, to lead them into a new age of blessing and peace. That hope was always foremost in their hearts.
Zechariah was one of the older men of that group, a godly country priest. It was a privilege to serve at the Temple twice a year as part of the rotation of Israel’s priesthood, and that morning the lot fell to him. A rope was tied around his ankle before he entered behind the thick curtain separating the Most Holy Place from the rest of the Temple, in case anything happened to him. No one dared to enter that sacred space without divine sanction.
As he entered beyond the veil, Zechariah saw the gold-plated walls lit by a menorah--a seven-branch candlestick--to his left. He was carrying a golden bowl of incense, which he laid before the altar. He kindled it and bowed down in worship as the exotic fragrance filled that chamber. Meanwhile, the other priests and devout Israelites waited outside the curtain in silent prayer.
As Zechariah finished praying, he looked up and to his right he saw an angelic form. He was startled and terrified at this, but the angel assured him he had come in peace and with an announcement that his prayer had been heard. Zechariah would have a son, to be named John, who would become a great prophet in the sight of the Lord, filled with the Holy Spirit, to prepare Israel for the coming of their Messiah.
Zechariah was awestruck at this, and his first response was, “How can I know this? I”m an old man and my wife is well along in years.” Zechariah and the other priests had been praying for this very thing all their lives, and here was the answer to their prayers. But still Zechariah was asking for a sign, even beyond the visitation of an angel, and he was about to receive one.
Gabriel told Zechariah who he was, an archangel sent by God with this momentous announcement. And because of Zechariah’s unbelief he was given the sign he needed: he would be struck dumb until the child was born. This was not only an act of chastening, but also of blessing, since it would allow Zechariah to reflect on this miracle from a place of holy, contemplative silence.
Nine months later, when the time came to name the child, Zechariah confirmed that he was to be called John. Immediately he was able to speak again, praising God, and he prophesied about God’s faithfulness to Israel and the role this child would play:
“And you, my child, will be called a prophet of the Most High;
for you will go on before the Lord to prepare the way for him, to give his people the knowledge of salvation through the forgiveness of their sins, because of the tender mercy of our God,
by which the rising sun will come to us from heaven to shine on those living in darkness and in the shadow of death, to guide our feet into the path of peace” ((vv. 76-79).
Zechariah had received a deep spiritual gift from his months of silent reflection, as this eloquent prophesy shows--and his heart was overflowing with its intended blessing. The Apostle Paul had a similar experience of three days of blindness after his revelation on the road to Damascus, a time for him to reflect deeply on the meaning of his encounter with the risen Christ.
Jesus spent forty days alone in prayer and fasting at the outset of his ministry, which was the foundation for everything else to follow. And we see in the Gospels that he often rose early to pray, and how he periodically withdrew from the crowds for more time to be alone with his Father. All of the outward signs and power in Jesus’ ministry arose from time spent in prayerful communion with God. He knew very well the real source of his strength. And I believe he would have been careful to quiet his heart so that he could hear his Father’s heart.
Sadly, however, it’s probably safe to say that many of us spend most or all of our time in prayer speaking rather than in listening or opening ourselves to God’s presence. And if your prayer feels more burdensome than refreshing, that’s probably why. Prayer is meant to be a blessing, an experience of communion with God, not a spiritual chore to check off your list. God probably finds it as tedious as we do when our prayer is entirely a matter of petitioning him for one request after another, without ever really taking the time to listen for the still, small voice of his Spirit.
There is a phenomenon called “the cushion of the sea,” referring to how submarines find refuge from even the most violent storms by submerging deep enough to experience the calm that lies well beneath the surface. This is the spiritual counterpart to that reality. There’s peace to be found when we escape the turmoil of our anxious concerns and compulsive checklists by seeking the silent depths of contemplative prayer. “Be still and know that I am God,” in the words of the psalmist (46:10).
Ask yourself, are there ever times in your life when you escape the “churn” of life and are simply quiet and listening in prayer? The best experience of prayer is when we’ve become centered, when our hearts are fully present and open to God. But realistically, it takes a little time for our minds and hearts to settle down so that we can meet God in the silence. Yet, I wonder how many of us actually allow that to happen.
My mother had a tradition of offering to watch her young grandchildren one weekend a year to allow their parents an opportunity to get away by themselves, which they came to call their “marriage renewal weekend.” It would take time, in fact most of the first day, for them to get past the level of functional communication about their usual practical concerns to finally relax enough to simply enjoy each other’s company again. Our prayer lives can be the same way: we can spend so much time in “functional communication” that we forget what it is to enjoy the experience of heart-to-heart communion with God.
Here are some practical suggestions for how to practice this quality of listening prayer. [I suggest printing these in the bulletin or posting them online for the congregation’s future reference.]
Be intentional about including listening prayer in your devotional life. If not on a daily basis, at least when you can, remembering that “functional communication” (petitioning prayer) isn’t enough.
Find a quiet place where you won’t be interrupted.
Set a timer if you need to keep to a schedule, so you won’t be preoccupied by the time.
Relax in a comfortable position. If you can’t sit still, try a rocking chair. Close your eyes, light a candle, or listen to nature or soothing music.
Rest your mind. Random thoughts will come; expect that but don’t let them bother you. Simply let them go. Practice “nonjudgmental observation.”
Stay in the present, don’t wander into the past or future.
Try this for ten or fifteen minutes, and if at first that seems too long, even five minutes will help you get started. Once you’re centered, the experience of prayer will become a time of communion with God that involves listening and reflection just as much as speaking or petitioning. The gift of prayer should involve both movements, and when it does it becomes the rich blessing God intends it to be.
I think we need this emphasis on listening and contemplation more than ever. I know I do, but I haven’t heard that message very often. Modern society is very functionally oriented, and that tendency has carried over into the way we pray. The Kingdom of God, however, is far more relational, and we would do well to learn that way of being in God’s presence as his beloved children. It’s often said that we learn far more from listening than speaking, and this is the ultimate case in point.
Let’s pray:
Lord, help me to balance my relationship with you through more silence and reflection. There’s a time to speak and a time to listen. Remind me of how important that is in my prayer life, too. Teach me to listen and to open myself more fully to you in silence. Give me a quieter heart and a greater hunger for your presence beyond the functional side of prayer, so that we can experience true communion and intimacy.
Thank you, Father, for the gift and the blessing of prayer. Help me to receive it more fully and to grow closer to you through listening as well as speaking, by meeting you in the silence where you are waiting. Amen.
