Each morning he wakes me to hear, to listen like a disciple.
The Lord Yahweh has opened my ear.
(Isaiah 50:4-5)

Have you ever noticed how little explicit emphasis there is on listening in the “Rules” of communities, in the standard “manuals” on the spiritual life, and even in the classics? One searches in vain for a chapter on listening in the writings of Benedict or Ignatius, and even in the writings of very practically oriented saints like Francis de Sales and Vincent de Paul. The same is true for the writings of Luis de Granada and Rodriguez, or in later widely used treatises on spirituality like Tanquerey. It is true, of course, that listening enters the picture implicitly under many headings in these writings. But if one views listening as the foundation for spirituality, as is the thesis of this chapter, one might surely expect it to stand out in greater relief.

This chapter has a very modest goal. It proposes to offer some preliminary reflections on listening as the foundation of spirituality. I say “preliminary” reflections because all of the headings below could be much further developed, as will be evident to the reader. In fact, the author would hope that various readers, working from their own fields of expertise (philosophical, biblical, theological, as well as those of various religious congregations) might develop this thesis more fully.

To undergird and then concretize the thesis, the chapter will examine, in a preliminary way: 1) listening in the New Testament (Luke’s gospel); 2) listening as the basis for spirituality; 3) some echoes of the theme in the Vincentian tradition; 4) the contrast between an implicit and an explicit theme; 5) some ramifications today.

Listening in Luke’s Gospel

A broader investigation of the question would, of course, begin with the Old Testament, where the listening theme plays a vital role, especially in the Deuteronomic and prophetic traditions. There, Yahweh frequently complains that while he speaks his people “do not listen.^— Conversely, the prophets are pre-eminent listeners; they hear what Yahweh has to say and then speak in his name. “Speak, Lord, for your servant is listening” (Sam 3:10), says the boy Samuel as he begins his prophetic career.

The listening theme likewise recurs again and again in the New Testament, where a study of Johannine literature, for instance, would reveal listening as the key to eternal life. “Whoever is of God listens to every word God speaks. The reason you do not hear is that you are not of God…. If someone is true to my word, he shall never see death^— On 8:47, 51).

Here, however, I will offer just a brief analysis of Luke’s gospel, where the listening theme is quite explicit. For Luke, as for the entire New Testament, God takes the initiative through his word, which breaks into the world as good news; listening is the indispensable foundation for all human response to that word.

Mary, the model listener

As with almost all the important themes in Lucan theology, the listening theme is introduced in the infancy narratives. These narratives, by way of preface, provide a summary of the theology that Luke will weave through his gospel. The listening theme is among the most promi­nent Lucan motifs (parenthetically, one might add that in Luke’s gospel another theme is at work in many of the listening stories, since, contrary to the expected cultural patterns of the writer’s time, a woman is the model listener presented to the reader).

Mary is evangelized in Luke’s opening chapters. She is the first to hear the good news. She is the ideal disciple, the model for all believers. In the infancy narratives, Mary listens reflectively to:

• Gabriel, who announces the good news of God’s presence and tells her of the extraordinary child whom she is to bear (Lk 1:260;
• Elizabeth, who proclaims her blessed among women, be­cause she has believed that the word of the Lord would be fulfilled in her (Lk 1:39f);
• Shepherds, who tell her and others the message which has been revealed to them about the child, the good news that a Savior is born! (Lk 2:160;
• Simeon, who proclaims a canticle and an oracle: the first, a song of praise for the salvation that has come to all the nations; the second, a prophecy that ominously forebodes the scandal of the cross (Lk 2:25f);
• Anna, who praises God in Mary’s presence and keeps speak­ing to all those who are ready to hear (Lk 2:360;
• Jesus himself, who tells her about his relationship with his heavenly Father, which must take precedence over everything else (Lk 2:41f).

Mary’s attitude of attentiveness

When the word of God breaks in on Mary’s life, she listens attentively. Using a standard pattern, Luke pictures Mary as listening to the word with wonderment, questioning what it might mean, deciding to act on it, and then meditating on the mystery of God’s ways.

• Listening: “Upon arriving, the angel said to her: ‘Rejoice, 0 highly favored daughter! The Lord is with you'” (Lk 1:28).
• Being astonished: “She was deeply troubled by his words, and wondered what his greeting meant” (Lk 1:29).
• Questioning: “How can this be since I do not know man?” (Lk 1:34).
• Acting (accepting, obeying): “Be it done to me according to your word” (Lk 1:38).
• Treasuring and pondering: “Mary treasured all these things and reflected on them in her heart” (Lk 2:19, 51).

Stories of discipleship

Luke uses three brief stories to illustrate this central discipleship theme: namely, that it is those who listen to the word of God and act on it who are the true followers of Jesus.

His mother and brothers came to be with him, but they could not reach him because of the crowd. He was told, “Your mother and your brothers are standing outside and they wish to see you.” He told them in reply, “My mother and my brothers are those who listen to the word of God and act upon it.” (Lk 8:19-21)

In this story, Luke changes the Markan emphasis radically (cf. Mk 3:31-35). While Mark depreciates the role of Jesus’ mother and relatives, Luke extols it (echoing Luke 1:38; 2:19; 2:51): Jesus’ mother is the ideal disciple, who listens to God’s word and acts on it. Anyone who does likewise will be happy.

On their journey Jesus entered a village where a woman named Martha welcomed him to her home. She had a sister named Mary, who seated herself at the Lord’s feet and lis­tened to his words. Martha, who was busy with all the details of hospitality, came to him and said, “Lord, are you not concerned that my sister has left me to do the household tasks all alone? Tell her to help me.” The Lord in reply said to her: “Martha, Martha, you are anxious and upset about many things; one thing only is required. Mary has chosen the better portion and she shall not be deprived of it.” (Lk 10:38-42)

Even though Jesus’ statement about the one thing necessary has been subject to innumerable interpretations, there is little doubt about the central point of this story in the context of Luke’s gospel. Mary has chosen the better part because she is sitting at Jesus’ feet and listening to his words, just as any true disciple does. While there are many other themes in the story (such as, once again, the role of women, and also the role of the home-church in early Christianity, which is reinforced here through a Lucan addition), Luke again emphasizes what ultimately grounds the following of Jesus: listening to the word of God. That is the better part (cf. Lk 8:4-21).

While he was saying this a woman from the crowd called out, “Blessed is the womb that bore you and the breasts that nursed you!” “Rather,” he replied, “blest are they who listen to the word of God and keep it.” (Lk 11:27-28)

This passage interrupts, rather puzzlingly, a series of controversies that Jesus is involved in during the journey to Jerusalem. But Luke inserts it here as an occasion for Jesus to clarify the true meaning of discipleship once more: real happiness does not lie in physical closeness to Jesus, nor in blood relationship with him, but in listening to the word of God and acting on it.

Listening as the Basis for Spirituality

All spirituality revolves around self-transcendence. As a working definition for spirituality, we might use one proposed by Sandra Schneid­ers, who defines it as “the experience of consciously striving to integrate one’s life in terms not of isolation and self-absorption but of self-tran­scendence toward the ultimate value one perceives.”¹

In the Christian context, spirituality involves “putting on the Lord Jesus Christ” (Rom 13:14), “giving away one’s life rather than saving it up” (Mk 8:35; Mt 16:25; Lk 9:24; In 12:25), and other phrases that imply self-transcendence. The self is not obliterated through self-transcendence; rather, it becomes fully actualized². That is the Christian paradox: in giving oneself, one finds one’s true self. In that sense, authentic love of God, of neighbor, and of self come together.

Different contemporary authors put this in different ways. For Bernard Lonergan, self-transcendence occurs in the radical drive of the human spirit, which yearns for meaning, truth, value, and love. Authenticity then “results from long-sustained exercise of attentiveness, intelligence, rea­sonableness, responsibility.”³ For Karl Rahner, the human person is the event of the absolute self-communication of God. In his foundational works, Rahner describes the human person as essentially a listener, one who is always awaiting a possible word of revelation. Only in Jesus, the self-communication of God, is the human person ultimately fulfilled. At the core of the historical human person is a gnawing hunger for the other, for absolute value. A particular spirituality is a way in which this longing for the absolute is expressed⁴.

But this inner yearning for truth and love, this “reaching out,” as Henri Nouwen expresses it, can only be satisfied by a word from without—spo­ken or enfleshed—that reveals the meaning of what true humanity really is. In the human person the fundamental disposition for receiving that word or Word is listening.

It is worth noting here that the Book of Genesis, wisdom literature, and the Johannine tradition all seize on the concept of the “Word” as the way in which God initiates and breaks into human history. The creating word bears within it its own immediate response: “Let there be light, and there was light” (Gn 1:3). But the word spoken to the human person, who in God’s image and likeness rules with freedom over all creation, must be listened to and responded to freely.

Of course, listening here is used in the broadest sense. It includes seeing, hearing, sensing, feeling, perceiving. “Attentiveness” might serve as an umbrella term that encompasses the various ways in which the human person is open to grasp what comes from without. Listening in this sense is the indispensable pre-condition for self-transcendence. Without it, the word that comes from without goes unheard, the truth that draws the human mind to a vision that goes beyond itself goes unper­ceived, the love that seeks to capture the heart goes unrequited.

Is this why the saints have so stressed the importance of listening in prayer? Is this why obedience has played such an influential role in the tradition of religious communities? Is this why the seeking of counsel has always been regarded as one of the signs of true wisdom? Is this why the Word-made-flesh and the word of God in the scriptures are at the center of all Christian spirituality? Is this why the reading of the scriptures at the Eucharist and communion with the Word himself in his self-giving, sacrificial love are “the source and summit” of genuine Christian living?

Some Echoes of the Theme  in the Vincentian Tradition

The central place of listening, within the context of spirituality, is not explicit in the conferences and writings of Saint Vincent. But the spiritu­ality proposed by Saint Vincent includes several key themes in which the importance of listening is evident.

Humility as the foundation of evangelical perfection

Vincent calls humility “the foundation of all evangelical perfection and the core of the spiritual life.”⁵ For him, the humble person, on the deepest level, sees everything as gift. The humble recognize that God is seeking to enter their lives again and again so that he might speak to them. So they are alert, they listen for God’s word, they are eager to receive God’s saving love. The humble know that the truth which sets them free comes from without: through God’s word, through the cries of the poor, through the Church, through the community they live in.

There is probably no theme that Saint Vincent emphasized more. He described humility as the origin of all the good that we do (SV IX. 674; cf. CR II, 7). He told the Daughters of Charity: “if you establish yourselves in it, what will happen? You will make of this Company a paradise, and people will rightly say that it is a group of the happiest people on earth” (SV X, 439).

Humility and listening are closely allied, in that listening is the basic attitude of those who know that fullness of life, salvation, wisdom, truth, love, come from without. Brother Robineau, Vincent’s secretary, whose reflections about the saint have just been published, notes that this attitude was especially evident in Vincent’s conversations with the poor, with whom he would sit and converse with great friendliness and humility⁶.

Saint Vincent loved to call the poor the real “lords and masters” (cf. SV IX, 119; X, 332) in the Church. It is they especially who must be listened to and obeyed. In the reign of God, the world of faith, they are the kings and queens, we are the servants. Recognizing the special place of the poor in the new order established by Jesus, the contemporary Vincentian heritage urges that the followers of Saint Vincent, like the founder, be “always attentive to the signs of the times and the more urgent calls of the Church,”⁷ “so that not only will we attend to their evangelization (that of the poor), but that we ourselves may be evangelized by them” (C 12, 3′).

Reading sacred scripture

Saint Vincent was convinced that the word of God never fails. It is like “a house built upon rock” (CR II, 1). He therefore begins each chapter of his rule, and many individual paragraphs, with a citation from scripture. He asks that a chapter of the New Testament be read by each member of his community every day. Basically, he wants them to listen to the word of God and to make it the foundation of all they do:

Let each of us accept the truth of the following statement and try to make it our most fundamental principle: Christ’s teach­ing will never let us down, while worldly wisdom always will. (CR II, 1)

In a colorful passage, Abelly notes how devoted Saint Vincent was to listening to the word of God: “He seemed to suck meaning from passages of the scriptures as a baby sucks milk from its mother, and he extracted the core and substance from the scriptures so as to be strengthened and have his soul nourished by them—and he did this in such a way that in all his words and actions he appeared to be filled with Jesus Christ”⁸.

In a conference on the “Gospel Teachings,” given on February 14, 1659, Vincent emphasizes how well Mary listened to the word of God. “Better than anyone else,” he states, “she penetrated its substance and showed how it should be lived” (SV XII, 129).

“Obeying” everyone

The word “obedience” (ob + audire – to listen thoroughly) is related etymologically to the word “listen” (audire). For Saint Vincent the role of obedience in community was clearly very important. But he also extended obedience beyond its usual meaning, in which all are to obey the legitimate commands of superiors. Using a broadened notion of obedience, he encouraged his followers to listen to and obey everyone, so that they might hear more fully what God is saying and act on it.

Our obedience ought not limit itself only to those who have the right to command us, but ought to strive to move beyond that. . . . Let us therefore consider everyone as our superior and so place ourselves beneath them, and even more, beneath the least of them, outdoing them in deference, agreeableness, and service. (SV XI, 69)

Obedience, moreover, is not the duty of “subjects” alone, but of superiors too. In fact, superiors should be the first to obey, by listening to the members well and by seeking counsel.

There would be nothing more beautiful in the world, my Daughter, than the Company of the Daughters of Charity if . . obedience flourished everywhere, with the Sister Servant the first to obey, to seek counsel, and to submit herself. (SV IX, 526)

An Implicit Theme versus an Explicit One

It is clear that listening plays a significant, even if unaccented, role in each of the themes described above. The importance of listening is not, therefore, a “forgotten truth” (to use Karl Rahner’s phrase) either in the writings of Vincent de Paul or in the overall spiritual tradition; neither, however, is it a central one. Therein lie two dangers.

First, truths that remain secondary or merely implicit run the risk of being underemphasized or distorted. The danger of distortion can be illustrated by using the same themes described above.

Reading a chapter of the word of God daily can degenerate into fulfilling an obligation or studying a text, unless the importance of listening attentively retains its pre-eminent place. Of course, in a healthy spirituality that will not happen, but distortion occurs when spirituality begins to lose its focus.

Likewise, the practice of humility, when distorted, can result in subservience to the voices without and deafness to the voices within, where God also speaks. In such a circumstance, “humility” might mask lack of courage in speaking up, deficient self-confidence, or a negative self-im­age.

A distorted emphasis on obedience can result in a situation where “subjects” are expected to listen exclusively to superiors, no matter what other voices might say, even voices that conscience demands we listen to. Conversely, it could produce a situation where a superior protests too loudly that he only has to “listen” to the advice of others, not follow it (whereas, in such instances, it may be quite evident that he listens to almost no one but himself).

But when listening retains a place at the center, the danger of distortion is lessened. Reading the word of God, practicing humility, and obeying are seen as means for hearing what God is saying. The accent remains on attentiveness.

There is also a second danger. When the importance of listening as such is underemphasized, there is a subtle tendency to focus on particular practices to the detriment of others, or to be attentive to certain voices while disregarding others. For instance, a member of a community might pray mightily, seeking to discern what God is saying, but pay little attention to what a superior or spiritual director, who knows the person well, is trying to say. He or she may listen “transcendentally” or “verti­cally,” so to speak, but show little concern for listening “horizontally.” Along similar lines, a superior might, to use an example coming from the other direction, be very confident that, because of the grace of his office, God lets him know what his will is, while other (more human!) figures, by the grace of their office, are desperately trying to signify to the same superior that God is saying something quite different. The simple truth is: there are many voices to which we must listen, since God speaks to us in many ways. Some of these ways are obviously privileged, but none has an exclusive hold on the truth.

Some Ramifications

In his wonderful book on community, Dietrich Bonhoeffer wrote:

The first service that one owes to others in the community consists in listening to them. Just as love of God begins by listening to His Word, so the beginning of love for the brethren is learning to listen to them. It is because of God’s love for us that he not only gives us his Word but also lends us his ear. So it is his work that we do for our brother when we learn to listen to him. Christians, especially ministers, so often think they must always contribute something when they are in the company of others, that this is the one service they have to render. They forget that listening can be a greater service than speaking. Many people are looking for an ear that will listen. They do not find it among Christians, because these Christians are talking where they should be listening. But he who can no longer listen to his brother will soon be no longer listening to God either, he will be doing nothing but prattle in the presence of God too. This is the beginning of the death of the spiritual life.⁹

If listening is so crucial to healthy spirituality, then how might mem­bers of communities grow in it, both as individuals and in common?

Listening as an individual

From reflection on the Church’s long spiritual tradition one might glean a number of qualities that characterize good listeners. Here I will touch briefly on four, which seem to me crucial for growth in listening.

Humility

The indispensable quality for good listening is humility. It is “the foundation of all evangelical perfection, the core of the spiritual life,” as Saint Vincent put it (CR II, 7). The humble person senses his or her incompleteness, his need for God and other human persons. So he listens.

Humility acknowledges that everything is gift; it sees clearly that all good things come from God. Saint Vincent writes to a priest of the Mission (probably Robert de Sergis or Lambert aux Couteaux): “Because we recognize that this abundant grace comes from God, a grace which he keeps on giving only to the humble who realize that all the good done through them comes from God, I beg him with all my heart to give you more and more the spirit of humility” (SY I, 182).

But consciousness of one’s incompleteness has a further dimension. It is not only “vertical,” so to speak, but “horizontal”; we depend not only on God directly, but on God’s creation around us. Truth, then, comes from listening not only to God himself, but to the human persons through whom God’s presence and words are mediated to us. The hunger for truth and love that lie at the heart of the mystery of the human person is satisfied only from without. We are inherently social, living within a complex network of relationships with individuals and with society.

Prayerfulness and reflectiveness

It is only when what is heard is pondered, that its full meaning is revealed. The quest for truth, therefore, involves prayerfulness and reflec­tiveness. While at times one can hear God speak even in a noisy crowd, it is often only in silence that one hears the deepest voices, that one plumbs the depth of meaning. The Psalmist urges us: “Be still and know that I am God” (Ps 46: 10).

The gospels, particularly Luke’s, attest that Jesus turns to his Father again and again in prayer to listen to him and to seek his will. Prayer is then surely one of the privileged ways of listening. But it must always be validated by life. One who listens to “what God is telling me” in prayer, but who pays little heed to what others are saying in daily life is surely suspect. Prayer must be in continual contact with people and events, since God speaks not only in the silence of our hearts, but also (and often first of all) in the people around us.

Moreover, since prayer is a meeting with God himself, what we say in prayer is much less important than what God says to us. When there is too much emphasis on what we say or do during prayer, it can easily become a good work, an achievement, a speech, rather than a grace, a gift, a gratuitous word from God. Naturally, prayer, like all human activities, involves structures, personal discipline, persevering effort. But the emphasis must always be on the presence of the personal God, to whose word we must listen attentively, as he speaks to us the good news of his love for us and for others.

In an era when there is much noise, where the media, if we so choose, speak to us all day long, we must ask ourselves: Are we able to distinguish the voice of God among the many voices that are speaking? Is God’s word able to say “new things” to us? Are we still capable of wonder? As may be evident to the reader, the word wonder has an etymological kinship, through German, with wound. Is the word of God able to wound us, to penetrate the membrane that seals us off, that encloses us within our­selves? Can it break into our consciousness and change us?

Respect for the words of human persons

It is here perhaps that the tradition was weakest. It did emphasize humility. It did accent the need to hear what God is saying and to discern his will. But it rarely focused explicitly, in the context of spirituality, on the central place of listening to other human persons.

Many contemporary documents put great emphasis on the dignity of the human person and on the importance of hearing the cries that come from his heart. Gaudium et Spes (particularly #s 9, 12 and 22) and Redemptor Hominis see the human person as the center of creation. In a slightly different context, Centesimus Annus puts it strikingly: “Today, the Church’s social doctrine focuses especially on man” (#54).

Respect for the human person acknowledges that God lives in the other and that he reveals himself in and through him or her. It acknowledges that words of life come from the lowly as well as the powerful. In fact, Saint Vincent became gradually convinced that “the poor have the true religion” (SV XII, 171) and that we must be evangelized by them.

Many of the recently published texts of Brother Louis Robineau attest to Saint Vincent’s deep respect for persons of all types. Robineau notes how well the saint listened to them: poor and rich, lay and clerical, peasant and royal.¹⁰

In this context, the process of questioning persons that is involved in the quest for truth takes on a new light. When there is deep respect for the human person, questioning involves a genuine search for enlightenment, rather than being, in some hidden way, refutation or accusation. Ques­tioning is a tool for delving deeper, for unpeeling layers of meaning, for knowing the other person better, for digging toward the core of the truth.

As we attempt to develop increasing respect for the human person, surely we must ask some challenging questions. Are we really able to hear the cries of the poor, of the most oppressed: the women and children, who are often the poorest members of society; those discriminated against because of race, color, nationality, religion; the AIDS victims, who are often shunned by their families and by the physically healthy; those on the “edges of life,” the helpless infants and the helpless aged, who are unable to speak up themselves? Are we able to hear the counsel given to us by others: by spiritual directors, by members of our own communities, by the documents of the Church and the Congregation? Are we sensitive to the contributions that come from other sources of human wisdom (like economics, sociology, the audio-visual media, the massive data now available in computerized form) that often speak concretely about the needs of the poor, that can help us find and combat the causes of poverty, or that can assist us in the new evangelization called for by the Church? Are we alert, “listening,” to the “signs of the times”: the increasing gap between the rich and the poor and the repeated call for justice made by the Church; the movement toward unity within global society, which is now accompanied by an opposite movement toward separatism and nationalism; the growth of the Church in the southern hemisphere, which contrasts with its diminishment in many places in the northern hemi­sphere.

Attentiveness

One of the most important signs of respect for the human person is attentiveness.

The contemporary documents of both the Vincentians and the Daugh­ters of Charity put great emphasis on the need to be attentive. The Daughters’ Constitutions see it as the prerequisite for achieving the apostolic goal of the Company: “Attentiveness, the indispensable foun­dation of all evangelization, is the first step toward it [the service of Christ in the poor].”¹¹

The Vincentian Constitutions emphasize it in the context of commu­nity life: “We should pay close attention to the opinions and needs of each confrere, humbly and fraternally” (C 24, 3′). The Lines of Action reinforce this: “Mutual communication is the indispensable means for creating authentic communities. For this reason, it is recommended that the confreres sincerely and diligently seek ways and means to listen to each other and to share their successes and failures.”¹²

Likewise, attentiveness as one seeks counsel is of the greatest impor­tance. Robineau relates how often Saint Vincent asked others their opinion about matters at hand, “even the least in the house.” He often heard him state that “four eyes are better than two, and six better than four. “¹³

Robineau relates an interesting incident in this regard:

One day he told me graciously that we must make it our practice, when consulting someone about some matter, al­ways to recount everything that would be to the advantage of the opposing party without omitting anything, just as if it were the opposing party itself that was there to give its reasons and defend itself, and that it was thus that consultations should be carried out.¹⁴

Listening in community

Meetings, along with consultations and questionnaires of various sorts, are among the primary means for listening in community.

Like most realities, meetings are “for better or for worse.” Almost all of us have experienced that there are some that we find very fruitful; but there are others that we would be happy to forget about. To put it in another way, meetings can be a time of grace or a time when sin threatens grace.

Communities, like individuals, can become caught up in themselves. A healthy self-concern can gradually slip into an unhealthy self-preoccu­pation. Outgoing zeal can be replaced by self-centered security-seeking. Communities can be rescued from this state, in a way analogous to that of individuals, only through corporate humility¹⁵, a communal quest to listen to God, and communal attentiveness to the words of other.

Meetings as a time when sin threatens grace

When there is no listening, meetings create strife and division. They disrupt rather than unify. They deepen the darkness rather than focus the light. At meetings, much depends on the capacity of the members to listen. When listening wanes, meetings degenerate rapidly, with calamitous results.

Among the signs that sin is at work in meetings is fighting. When participants do not listen, there will inevitably be strife, bad feelings, disillusionment, bitterness. Fractious meetings result in fleeing. When participants do not listen, the group will back away from major decisions, especially those that demand some conversion; it will refuse to listen to the prophets; it will seek refuge in the status quo. A further consequence will be fracturing. When participants do not listen, badly divided splin­ter-groups will form; the “important” conversations will take place in the corridors rather than in the meeting hall; politics, in the worst sense, will take the place of discernment.

Meetings as an opportunity for grace

But meetings also provide us with a wonderful opportunity for listen­ing and discernment. They enable communities to work toward decisions together, as a community. In order for this to happen, those who meet must be committed to sharing their common heritage, creating a climate of freedom for discussion, and planning courageously for the future.

Recounting the deeds of the past (thanksgiving): In meetings where God is at work, we recall our heritage in order to renew it. We listen to and retell “our story.” We re-count and re-hear the deeds of the Lord in our history. We celebrate our gratitude in the Eucharist and let thanksgiv­ing fill our hearts, because we have heard the wonderful works of the Lord. We share communal prayer and reflection because we believe that the faith of others strengthens us.

Creating a climate of freedom (atmosphere): The atmosphere will be grace-filled, if all are eager to listen to each other. If all arrive without hardened positions and prejudices, convinced that the group must seek the truth together, then the groundwork for the emergence of truth has already been laid.

Making decisions about the present (content): The content, no matter how concrete or seemingly pedestrian, will be grace-filled, if all hear the word of God together, listen to each other’s reflections on that word, and make decisions on that basis. The decisions of a listening community wilt flow from its heritage, while developing it in light of contemporary circumstances. Concrete decisions will not merely repeat the past. Rather, discerning the core values of our heritage, they will concretize them in a new context¹⁶.

Planning for the future (providence): Meetings have an important role to play within God’s providence. God provides for the growth of com­munities through wise decisions that govern their future, especially the training of the young, the ongoing formation of all members, and the care for the aging. But such decisions can be made only if the members of the community are willing to listen to the data that describes its present situation and projects its future needs. Communal decision-making, based on realistic projections, is one of the ways in which “providence” operates in community life. Failure to listen to the data—difficult though it may sometimes be to “hear” it honestly—will result in calamitous “blindness” and “deafness.”

The listening individual and the listening community will surely grow, since listening is the foundation of all spirituality. To the listener come truth, wisdom, the assurance of being loved. To those who fail to listen comes increasing isolation.

Jesus, like the prophets, knew that listening was demanding and consequently often lacking. He lamented its absence: “Sluggish indeed is this people’s heart. They have scarcely heard with their ears, they have firmly closed their eyes; otherwise they might see with their eyes, and hear with their ears, and understand with their hearts, and turn back to me, and I should heal them” (Mt 13:15). He also rejoiced in its presence: “But . . . blessed are your ears because they hear” (Mt 13:16).

In recent years many congregations have attempted to assist individu­als, local communities, and assemblies to listen better. In workshops, much effort has been put into fostering practical listening skills. But are there ways in which communities, particularly during initial formation, can better communicate the importance of listening as foundational for growth? If listening is the foundation of all spirituality, as is the thesis of this chapter, then it is crucial for personal growth and for the vitality of all communities.

1. Sandra Schneiders, “Spirituality in the Academy,” Theological Studies 50 (1989) 684.
2. Cf. Gal 2:19-21: “I have been crucified with Christ, and the life I live now is not my own; Christ is living in me. Of course, I still live my human life, but it is a life of faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.” The Greek text identifies Jesus as the “self-giving one.” It also makes it clear that self-transcendence does not wipe out true humanity, but fulfills it.
3. Bernard Lonergan, A Third Collection, edited by Frederick Crowe (New York: Paulist Press, 1985) 9.
4. Cf. K. Rahner, Grundkurs des Glaubens (Freiburg: Herder, 1984) 35f; 42f
5. Common Rules of the Congregation of the Mission IL 7; henceforth CR.
6. Monsieur Vincent racona par son secreraire, edited by Andre Dodin (Paris: O. E. , 1991),  cf. Its 46 and 54.
7. Constitutions of the Congregation of the Mission 2, henceforth, C.
8. Louis Abelly, The Life of she Venerable Servant of God Vincent de Paul, 3 vols. (New Rochelle: New City Press, 3993) 111:72-73.
9. Dietrich Bonh❑effer, Life Togerher (London. SCM Press, 1954) 75.
10. Dodin, Monsieur Vincent, especially #71-83.
11. Constitutions of the Daughters of Charity 2.9.
12. Lines of Action for the Congregation of the Mission 19, n. I (Rome: 371h General Assembly, 1986).
13. Dodin, Monsieur Vincent, 452.
14. Dodin, Monsieur Vincent, ill 18.
15. Saint Vincent repeatedly emphasized the need for corporate humility if the Congregation is to grow. Cf. SV rt, 233: “1 think the spirit of the Mission must be to seek its greatness in lowliness and its reputation in the love of its abjection.”
16. In his essays on spirituality, Karl Rattner distinguishes between “material” and “formal” imitation of Christ. In “material” imitation, one seeks to do the concrete things that Jesus did, without realizing the extent to which everything he did was influenced by his social context. In “formal” imitation, one seeks to find the core meaning of what Jesus said or did and to apply it within the changed social context.