THE 50 / 20 DILEMMA

March 5, 2006

Texts – I Samuel 3: 1-11a

James 1: 19-27

            I call it the “50 / 20 Dilemma” but I could just as easily call it “The Preacher’s Paradox.”  Like any respectable sermon, it has three parts.  Number One – Behavioral studies have shown that 85% of what we know comes to us through listening.  That’s good news for someone in my profession.  Numbers Two and Three, however, present the challenges – How much do we usually recall immediately after we listen to someone talk?  Just 50%.  And how much do we eventually remember of what we hear?  Only 20%.  It kind of takes the motivation out of sermon writing, I’ll tell you!

            50 / 20 seem to be my choices.  They aren’t good odds no matter how you look at it.  Nor do they bode well for James’ admonition that everyone should be quick to listen and slow to speak. [James 1: 19]   The boy Samuel was doing well when he got the message after just three tries!

            “My wife says I never listen to her,” a T-shirt we sent our friend Charlie one year for his birthday says across the front.  On the back it adds: “At least I think that’s what she said.”  His wife Nancy loved the shirt.  Anna Wickhaur writes, “The true male has never yet walked, Who liked to listen when his mate talked.”  A fellow named Hank Ketcham offers our defense.  “Just because I didn’t do what you told me,” he says, “doesn’t mean I wasn’t listening to you!”

“Let everyone be quick to listen,” James, the brother of Jesus, writes, “and slow to speak.”   It’s an admonition we would all do well to heed, most especially those of us who stand in pulpits on Sunday mornings.  But it is hard to get a hearing these days, isn’t it?

             How much time do you spend really listening to your loved ones?  The Wall Street Journal reports that American parents spend less than fifteen minutes a week in serious conversation with their children.  One little boy says – “Dad and I had words this morning, but I didn’t get to use mine.”  A lot of adults have similar complaints.  A woman talks about how much she hates the cocktail parties she has to attend with her spouse.  “When I go to one I am turned off by the level of conversation – everybody chattering away at each other, but nobody really listening to what the other is saying.  They are all too busy thinking about what they are going to say (next), when the other person stops talking.”  Ever been to a party like that? 

“Let everyone be quick to listen,” James says, “and slow to speak.”  Imagine what that would be like!

            Listening takes time.  It requires being present to another in a non-anxious manner.  It means sitting down with one and only one agenda in mind, which is that you are going hear what this other person has to say.  You aren’t going to judge them or critique them or advise them.  You are just going to listen to them.  You are going to give them the gift of your undivided attention.  Is that something you could give?

            I like the story about the young father who kept bringing home office work night after night.  Finally his second grader asked him why he did that.  Dad explained that he had so much work to

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do that he couldn’t finish it during the day.  The boy replied, “Well, in that case, why don’t they put you in a slower group?”  We could all benefit from being put in that “slower group.” 

            Listening takes time.  It also takes compassion.  Literally, the word means “to suffer with” – to stand alongside another with absolutely no agenda other than to be present.  It can be awkward; certainly it feels that way oftentimes. 

            I remember many years ago spending an afternoon sitting with Betty Randall, a wonderful woman with whom I had grown close during the early years of my ministry in her community.  She and John, her husband, had welcomed the “still wet behind the ears” minister into their home and their hearts.  I loved being around them.  And then John had a massive heart attack and – in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye – he was gone. 

            When I got the call I was shocked and devastated.  I really didn’t know what to do, so I just got into my car and drove over to their house and walked in the front door.  Her two sons and their families were already there; so were a host of neighbors and friends.  I hugged Betty and held her and told her how sorry I was . . .  I mean, what do you say at a time like that?  And then I just sort of hung around. 

            Honestly I don’t remember what I did that afternoon.  I was just present.  Later, much later, Betty thanked me for coming.  “You didn’t say too much,” she said, “and you didn’t say too little; you said just right.”  “But I didn’t say anything,” I protested.  “Sure you did,” she replied; “you were there, and that was enough.”

            Compassion – “to suffer with another” – is a form of listening, and of loving.  Love your neighbor as yourself, says the old book. Well, perhaps the greatest gift of love is the gift of an ear — for by it we enable one another to break through confusion of mind, loneliness of heart, and we grant one another worth and feeling of importance.  I don’t know if that is exactly the kind of listening the writer of the letter of James had in mind, but I cannot help but note that one half of what he defines as “real religion” is “to visit orphans and widows in their affliction” [v. 27].  They are precisely the ones who are alone, isolated, troubled, and desperately needing a sense that they count.

“Let everyone be quick to listen, and slow to speak.”  It takes time.  It takes compassion.  It is, in every sense, love in action.

             Which brings me back to “the 50 / 20 dilemma.”  You aren’t going to remember half of what I’ve had to say here by the time we get to Coffee Hour.  Tomorrow morning, that’ll be cut to just 20% of what I’m presenting.  So let me make it as simple as I can –

            Number One – it is Lent, a time for serious spiritual reflection and discipline.

            Number Two – Listening can be such a discipline.  It is a precious gift.  It means I care about you.  I want to know what’s going on with you.  It means I love you.

            Number Three – Practice it.  “Let everyone be quick to listen and slow to speak.”

Got it?  Good – there will be a test later!

            Oh, and one last thing . . .  You can think of this as “bonus material” for which extra credit

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will be given on the final exam.  It comes from Steven Wright, the comedian.  “My friend Bob is a radio DJ,” he says; “when he walks under a bridge, you can’t hear him talk.”  Moral of the story?  Don’t listen to the radio!  Besides, it’s just about time for the Vermont Public Radio fund raising campaign, and you don’t really enjoy that anyway.  Give it up for Lent!  We’ll be doing a fair amount of fund raising ourselves in the next six weeks anyway.