I admit it. I talk to Baxter. We have conversations about various things: how the day went; what I am concerned about in the parish; what are my worries and anxieties; who is a delight to be with and who is less than that; what I am looking forward to. Baxter’s side of the conversation is rather limited. When is my next meal, where have you been for so long, scratch my ear, let’s play “fetch”, where is my “cat milk” or treat, make up the full repertoire of his interests. Nevertheless, we keep talking. I don’t get bored with Baxter’s concerns; maybe because they are so simple and straight forward. He has no hidden agendas. On the other hand, he seems to pay attention when I share with him my concerns. He’s a good listener. He doesn’t come to a conclusion before I have voiced my full story. He doesn’t shut me down by walking away or forcing his interests into the conversation. He sits in front of me or lies on my lap and quietly purrs, while I ventilate about my latest situation, dilemma or frustration.
Listening is a key to conversing. In today’s world with all of its sophisticated technology, we are not trained to listen. We are trained to look and find a quick and clever response. Short answers with abbreviated expressions or Emojis are the order of the day. We know how to convey information in tight packages of emails and text messages, but we don’t do a good job of communicating the human feelings and meanings attached to the message. Even exchanging pictures with each other doesn’t do it. We assume we know what the other means in what is displayed because of how it makes us feel. But we miss the subtleties, the nuances contained in a look, a tone of voice, a casual gesture. We can’t see the tears behind the smile, the pain hidden in the laugh, the worries dressed up in party attire. Only true conversation between caring persons reveals these tender dimensions.
Maybe we don’t know how to talk this way to each other because we don’t pray enough or pray well enough. Cor ad cor loquitur is a traditional description of prayer. Heart speaks to heart. In prayer, we open our hearts to God and God opens His heart to us. It doesn’t matter what is on our heart at the moment. Happy or sad, angry or peaceful, empty or full doesn’t register the quality of our prayer. The honesty and depth of our self disclosure does. In prayer we join our hearts to God’s, and in this meeting, we discover how much He loves us just as we are and how much we love Him, despite our weakness and sin. No matter what particular feelings we bring to the moment, this heart to heart conversation creates another feeling stronger than all the rest—trust, trust in God’s presence, goodness and care for us. On this trust we build our lives of faith, and without it, we simply engage in religious activities.
Prayer gives us a practice field for learning how to communicate genuinely, fully and deeply with each other. God is the best listener, and when we pray from our heart, His listening frees us to be ourselves. It gives us confidence to take these selves that God shows us He loves, and open them to others to create a relationship with them that is holy, because it is so careful, respectful and honest. How we are in prayer with God is meant to become the model for how we are with each other in the other moments of our lives. We pray well to live well, and we bring the stuff of our lives to prayer to learn how to live better.
Baxter is a good listener, but God is even better. Don’t be afraid to grow close to God in prayer, and He will teach us how to grow close to each other, no matter what life brings for us to share.
Monsignor Statnick
