A Listening Heart, The Listening Heart:
Conversations Across the Boundaries With People Who Pray

by Brother Mark Brown

In the story of Solomon the young king prays to God for help. We read that, rather than wealth or long life, Solomon prays for “an understanding mind” (I Kings 3:9). Or, translating more closely, “a listening heart” ( lev shomeah) . God responds to Solomon's request by granting him not only wisdom, “a listening heart” as he desires, but many other things as well.

The image of a listening heart, a receptive heart, is a fertile one, and one whose time has come—especially in today's multi-cultural, multi-ethnic, multi-religious world community. The time has come to listen: to listen deeply, appreciatively and generously to “the other”. With the ears, and with the heart.

There is a time to speak and a time to listen (Eccl. 3:7). A time to proclaim our good news to others, and a time to listen to good news others may have to share with us. If we have been given as a “light to the nations” (Is. 42:6), we may very well come to discover that the nations have been given as a light to us. As the Qur'an puts it: I made you nations and tribes that you may come to know one another and not despise one another.

Today, as always, God is doing something new. The God we know is a God who “makes all things new” (Is. 66, Rev. 21). It's time to listen.

***

Prof. Diana L. Eck has observed in her recent book, A New Religious America , that the United States is now the most religiously diverse country in the world. People whose cultural and religious identities have been shaped in relative isolation in different parts of the globe now live side by side as neighbors. This is already very apparent in our larger cities, and increasingly so everywhere else. How this will influence the way we think about God and practice our religions will be one of the most interesting developments of the 21 st century.

“My house shall be a house of prayer for all people” (Is. 56:7). What might this mean today? What might this come to mean? Is the architecture of God's spiritual temple more complex than we had imagined? More colorful? More varied? More motley, even chaotic? More magnificent?

What kind of “house” is God building? What is God up to today? God only knows. But the wondering about these things is the backdrop for a project I undertook this past summer, a project to which I endeavored to bring “a listening heart”.

***

In mid-August I returned to country life at Emery House after six weeks in New York City . I was invited earlier in the year to undertake a project that would in some way enhance my own ministry and that of the Society, and for which I would have six weeks' leave.

The project I proposed had two components: 1) some independent study of other world religions, mainly through reading, and 2) conversations with people of other world religions. These conversations would be with people of other faith traditions who maintain some kind of regular practice of prayer or meditation . The conversations would focus on experience: the experience of prayer, the experience of God in prayer.

I wanted the conversations to be as “conversational” as possible; that is, not journalistic or academic. I decided not to record the conversations. Notes and reflections would be written down afterwards.

I chose New York City as the location. Being away from my usual venue and responsibilities would help focus the work. And New York City probably has more people of different faith traditions per square inch than any other city on the planet—it is amazingly and refreshingly diverse. I was very generously offered a place to stay by the sisters of the Community of the Holy Spirit on the Upper West Side , near Columbia University and the Cathedral of St. John the Divine.

Before going I wrote to members of the Fellowship of St. John in the New York area to ask their assistance in making connections with people who pray. With their generous help I was able to meet a very broad spectrum of people: Sunni and Sufi Muslims. Hasidic, Orthodox, Conservative and Reform Jews. Tibetan, Japanese and American Buddhists. Hindus with roots in India and converts with other backgrounds. A Wiccan and a person in the shamanic tradition. Those who identify with two faith traditions at the same time, or none at all.

The choice of this particular project was largely motivated by a desire to connect in some meaningful way with people of other faith traditions. I am not a scholar of comparative religion, I am a monk. I pray a lot, I teach prayer, and I frequently talk to Christians about their prayer. Prayer is an essential component of who I am as a human being. It seemed natural to bring my perspective as one who prays to these interfaith conversations.

Conversations about doctrine, truth claims or beliefs can quickly reach an impasse. I hoped, however, that something more experiential might provide a kind of bridge. Even though people's understanding of the divine varies considerably, I suspected that we human beings probably have similar ranges of experience of prayer across the spectrum of faith. So my focus became what might be called the “experiential core” of prayer, insofar as this core can be extricated from doctrine, truth claims, beliefs, etc.

Commonality between the various religions is not a new idea, by any means. Similarities in the mystical and contemplative traditions of the various religions are widely recognized. Many have wondered if the world's religions aren't simply different manifestations of the same basic experience of the numinous or the transcendent--. “variations on a theme”, I heard Huston Smith once say. Ethics of compassion and justice are common denominators. And there is a religion based on the premise that all religions have a common source (Bahai).

Many people today are aware, at least on an intellectual level, of commonality. As a person for whom prayer and meditation are a way of life, even an identity, my desire was to experience commonality in a direct, unmediated way across the various boundary lines through conversation. Conversation about prayer.

***

I got to know the New York subway system quite well. I went Uptown, Downtown, Midtown: to the Upper West Side, Upper East Side, Lower East Side, Greenwich Village, Queens, Park Slope, Brooklyn Heights. I met people in their homes, their offices and places of work, in coffee shops and restaurants, in parks, at the convent where I was staying, even in an ashram.

I joined worshipers at a synagogue, a mosque and an ashram. I met imams and rabbis, Buddhist priests and a Lama. Chaplains, teachers, healthcare workers, writers, administrators, entrepreneurs, store clerks and more. An amazing variety of individuals with one thing in common: they pray or meditate. Prayer or meditation is a regular part of their lives, not something reserved for special occasions or times of crisis.

I was not prepared. The big surprise was how much fun it would be! I was continually amazed by the sheer delight in these conversations. Most went well beyond the arranged time—one went for 2 ½ hours! I was frequently surprised by how quickly and eagerly people reached an intimate level of conversation about their inner life with someone who was virtually a complete stranger.

Most people of other faith traditions, like Christians, it seems, do not have a context within which to talk safely about their inner life. Some of my conversation partners were describing their experience of prayer to another person for the first time.

Is experience of prayer identical from one tradition to another? No, but some similarities emerged in conversation. Prayer as encompassing one's whole life, not just intentional or structured prayer times, was frequently brought up. A Buddhist priest who spent twelve years in a monastery in very disciplined meditative practice now considers her work, and, indeed, her whole life, her “practice” (the word preferred by some Buddhists). An Orthodox Jewish woman exclaimed: “Everything is prayer!”

Many described the presence of God in terms familiar to Christians: the feeling of peace and serenity. Or the feeling of humility before that which is completely beyond oneself. Or, on the other hand, the feeling of being completely united to God. Or enveloped or embraced by God. Buddhists do not usually think in terms of a personal God, yet sometimes use similar language when describing their meditative experience.

Many acknowledged distractions while praying and the difficulties of maintaining a regular practice of prayer or meditation. Most recognized the importance of grounding in community life and corporate worship.

Just as among Christians there is a range of experience of prayer, so, it seems it is with other faith traditions—as one would expect. Among Orthodox Jews I spoke with, for example, one found it natural and important to pray to God in an extemporaneous, conversational way; another couldn't imagine this degree of familiarity. A difference probably related more to temperament than beliefs.

Most people I spoke to have had some significant contact with other faith traditions. Some have spouses or family members of other religions. Some have converted from one religion to another. A Japanese Buddhist priest spent some time attending a Roman Catholic church during his years of adolescent rebellion! For some, the workplace provides frequent engagement with people of other faiths. Several people I spoke with are hospital chaplains (what vibrant interfaith laboratories our urban hospitals are!) Some worship in spaces offered to them by congregations of other religions. Some have incorporated meditative techniques from other traditions into their prayer life, or even borrowed scriptures.

However, with only one exception, those I spoke to were quite happy to be grounded in their own particular tradition. And no one I spoke to envisioned some kind of syncretism that would “put it all in a blender”—all had an appreciation for their own particular religious identity. A Tibetan Lama put it like this: we should appreciate the tulip for being a tulip and the rose for being a rose.

In the end, however, it is not the observations, new information or even insights that were the richest part of this experiment in conversation. The richest part was actually something impossible to quantify and very difficult to explain compellingly, I fear.

The richest part of this project, the very heart of this experiment in conversation, was only this: the simple act of sharing the experience of one's inner life across the boundaries of personal definition. Just sitting with another human being and listening to them share their experience of the inner life I found to be profoundly moving and spiritually invigorating. I often felt myself being drawn into a contemplative state listening to my partner and recognizing a kind of deep resonance.

I often experienced the presence of God in these conversations with people who understand God in so many different ways. I sensed the presence of “ the Listening Heart”, recognizing that mine was not the only heart listening. There were three hearts listening. There was One.

We can read a lot about the world's religions in books and make all sorts of comparisons. And I acquired a lot of information in those New York conversations. But, to take one example of many, simply sitting in a noisy coffee shop on the Upper East Side, listening, face to face, to an Orthodox Jew tell me of his experience of God in prayer has given me an experience that I must now integrate into my own understanding of God. I am compelled by my experience to recognize and acknowledge that his prayer is as valid as my own. (How could I have thought otherwise?)

This may be a small thing, even self-evident; but it has far-reaching implications. How do I make sense out of the New Testament's exclusivist texts? What is the place of the Christian experience in the broader scheme of things? If “the Body of Christ” is not the only component in the architecture of God's “house of prayer for all people”, how does it relate to other “architectural components”? If there is a “plurality of truths”, as a young rabbinical student put it, how do we live into this plurality and still remain grounded in our own tradition with integrity? How will theology make sense of all this? How will our increasing engagement with other religious traditions influence our beliefs? What we even mean when we say “we believe ”?

These are the challenging questions God has given us for our time. Questions we are obliged to struggle with faithfully. In the Gospel of John Jesus tells us that the Spirit will lead us into all truth, and that truth will set us free. Many understand faith as steadfast adherence to a particular understanding of God. But isn't faith rather more like courage? Courage to follow the Spirit's leading, to seek the truth wherever that may take us?

If the Spirit is leading, it is time to listen, to keep listening, listening to “the other” with the heart. To keep listening to the Spirit with the heart. “Hear what the Spirit is saying to the churches!” (Rev. 2:7) God is up to something, something new. Again, and as always. Creation and the human/divine enterprise are still a work in progress.

***

January 12

Many thanks to: Shaykh Dr. Ibrahim Abdul-Malik, Leslie Bryan, Arthur Coucouvitis, Geeta Bhatt, Dr. Ajay Kumar, Braham David, Peter Fell, Alice Fisher, Judy Seicho Fleischman, Rebbetzin Judith Friedlander, Brenda Gannam, Jesse Hendrich, the Rev. Trudi Hirsch, Shareda Hosein, Rabbi Fred Hyman, the Rev. Hajime Issan Koyama, Dr. Katherine Kurs, Lama Pema, Tom Rippe, Rabbi Stephen Roberts, Rabbi Jeffery Silberman, Rabbi Isaac Wolhandler, Imam Ramadan Zakat, the Rev. Stephen Harding and many members of the Fellowship of St. John.

Brother Mark Brown, SSJE is a member of the Society of Saint John the
Evangelist, a monastic community in the Episcopal Church based in Cambridge,
MA.  Br. Mark currently resides at Emery House, the SSJE's retreat house in
West Newbury, MA.  He is a frequent retreat leader and guest speaker and
currently serves as the community's cellarer.  Br. Mark, who serves on the
SSJE's Community Steering Team and the editorial board of Cowley Publications,
has a special interest in interfaith conversation and is on a task force
exploring the possibility of an SSJE presence and ministry in Jerusalem.