Unmute Yourself

You’re muted . . . Um, we can’t hear you . . . I think you’re on mute . . . Sally, unmute yourself! . . . Bottom left corner . . . Click on it . . . Unmute, not hearing you.

Oh, the joys of Zoom. But then we’ve all known the opposite problem. When we want to say: who’s unmuted? Background noise. Sirens. Dogs barking. Doors slamming. People talking.

Can all this muting and unmuting teach us something about the balance of speaking and listening? Spiritually speaking, we mute ourselves—we even practice silence—that we can hear divine inspiration—whether it be comfort or calling or challenge.

The problem is: God sometimes seemed muted. How in the heck can you hear the voice of God? We think people who hear God speaking to them directly, are well, kinda crazy. But there are such stories in the scriptures!

Like the story of Eli and Samuel today. It’s the stuff of legend. Kids love this story. Spiritual guides love this story. Skeptics love this story. I love this story.

It seems God was on mute. The word of the Lord was rare in those days, the text says. Maybe God was angry at the corruption of that time.

Two characters. Eli is the old priest whose eyesight is failing. Samuel is his apprentice, asleep in the temple. Remember his Samuel’s Hannah offered him to the Lord. He had a divine calling from the beginning, but so far, at age twelve, even being in the house of the Lord, he didn’t know God yet.

So God unmutes. God speaks to Samuel in the night. Sure, some people hear voices in the night. And maybe there are messages in dreams and nightmares!

It’s almost funny. God unmutes and says: Samuel, Samuel. Three times this happens. Every time Samuel sleepwalks or scurries or sprints to Eli, thinking the old man is calling him. Nope, Eli says. It’s not me. Go back to sleep. Leave me alone. Until the fourth time. Eli begins to wonder if a divine unmuting is going on.

Eli tells the boy to go back to bed. To lie still. To take some deep breaths. And to listen. Listen for the God who knows us intimately—as we hear in Psalm 139—knows our comings and our goings. And after the unmuted divine voice calls out for the fourth time, Samuel finally recognizes the voice of God. And then Samuel says words that echo our baptismal calling as well: Speak, Lord, your servant is listening!

Is listening really that difficult? Um, yes. Most of us love to hear ourselves speak, post, rant. Everyone is an authority online these days. All opinions valid. No wonder conspiracy theories and all of kinds of untruths can foment. No wonder our country lives in alternate realities.

Neuroscientists remind us that we are wired not so much for active listening, but holding back, then giving our rebuttal as soon as the person is finished talking. That’s why we do an active listening exercise in pre-marital counseling.

Maybe our country could use a nationwide initiative on learning how to mute, and how to truly listen to one another. Rather than the self-righteousness that is our default setting, it takes curiosity and humility to learn from another. Not having our minds made up all the time. Now that’s hard!

Not that our listening will also bring some strong words once we unmute. Do you think Samuel wanted the calling he got? A message that would make the ears of the people tingle, as the text says. It was a time of political anarchy. Everybody did what they wanted. Eli’s own sons used their own positions of privilege for their own benefit, taking advantage of women, and effecting injustice. It was a mess. Eli’s family comes apart. Samuel needs to speak the truth. The dynasty is over. Corruption is over. Nepotism is over. It’s time for new leadership. Samuel will be a transitional figure until Saul is inaugurated—is anointed as king.

There was nothing muted about the displays of hatred and racism on January 6. American Christians displayed signs that said: “Jesus saves . . . God, guns and guts made America. Let’s keep all three.”

Are we listening for our spiritual response to this growing movement? Have we as progressive Christians allowed the message of Jesus’ mercy, love and restorative justice to be to be co-opted by hate? Unmute. Proclaim it in the public square. This is not the Jesus we follow. This is not the Jesus—thanks to the religious right— so many young Americans think is associated with Christianity.

Maybe God isn’t on mute. We’re still learning how to listen. One writer believes that one of Martin Luther King Jr.’s most relevant teachings was his conviction that each one of us holds some of the truth.

King didn’t shy away from words that would make the ears of the people tingle. When preaching a controversial sermon in 1967 linking the Vietnam war to civil rights, he decried an American arrogance that has everything to teach others and nothing to learn—spending more money on military defense than social uplift he called spiritual death.

Today’s texts are about the divine invitation to come and follow. To find purpose for our lives. To become an apprentice. To learn when to mute—when to listen—and when to speak—not just on Zoom, but in our everyday lives. There is a time to speak and a time to be silent, to quote Ecclesiastes.

Listening is one of the greatest gifts we offer one another. A few folks have asked what the goals are for our listening and discernment groups at Holy Trinity. On one hand, being together and establishing community in small groups is enough. But let’s be frank. Holy Trinity will change drastically in the coming years. Every church will. Every institution will. We are listening for the Spirit’s guidance. How can Holy Trinity continue to share its grace-filled DNA? At Grace Place and through the Lakeview Lutheran Parish? How can our antiracism work, our welcome and our witness have a greater reach?

Being muted is weird. I get it. It is a bit humbling. But it reminds us of the holy work of listening. It involves paying attention, slowing down, being present, being open. As a Sufi musician states, listening is “making an altar out of our ears.”

So listen. Listen to the voices of others. Listen to the sound of silence. Listen to the God who knows us intimately—who invites us to come and see. And to come and the word of the Lord—words of grace, justice, mercy and forgiveness. Come and follow this one who comes to us as one unknown, yet in flesh and blood, is Savior and Lord.