Listening in the Fog

Early last Sunday morning I went for a bird walk in the Great Marsh, the largest inland marsh in Pennsylvania, just twenty minutes from my home. The walk leader has spent years wandering the hundreds of acres of fields and woods and wetlands. Even in in the dripping fog he knew where we could walk safely. 

He called attention to the voices of Rusty Blackbirds, gathering in hummocks in a marshy pond, and paused to look for Pine Siskins in a field where all I heard were Goldfinch. 

"How can you tell those tiny sounds apart?" I asked.

"I study them. Every winter, I get out my disks and listen to them when I'm driving around. I get them in my head."

A few mornings later, kayaking on Marsh Creek Lake in even deeper fog, I thought about his words. I could hear the chips and chirps of birds hiding in brush along the water's edge, but didn't know the sounds well enough to be certain what I heard.

It occurred to me that in many ways, we're living in fog, surrounded by sound, but not always sure what to do with what we're hearing.

Part of that is pandemic fog: loss of schedule, loss of social contact has made it sometimes hard to orient ourselves. Also hard is the swirl of confusing information. The evidence seems clear that masks save lives, yet we still hear politicians mocking masks and suggesting COVID-19 is no big deal. Dr. Fauci says winter will be hard, the risks of contagion are high, and we'd all be wise to hunker down until we get a vaccine. Meanwhile from every direction we're urged to lighten up and get back to business as usual.

The political fog is even worse. Accusations of voter fraud, last minute challenges to election rules, changing narratives that contradict what the same person said just days, sometimes minutes before. How do we know what's true? How do we find our way?

If it takes study, practice and patience to identify the voices of birds, it takes even more study, practice and patience to understand what's true. Too often we coast along on information that comes through the easiest channels, only to find we've been deceived.

I stopped reading Proverbs after the 2016 election because I found it too sad to read words about wisdom and folly when people I have always respected aligned themselves with a president who to me epitomize the Proverbial fool. 

I last wrote about Proverbs in 2014: 

I find myself thirsty for wisdom.

Hungry for voices that address the complexities of our current situation, that blend compassion, justice, righteousness, understanding.

As I read through Proverbs, I see two ways of thinking set in opposition: 

• Wisdom and its close counterpart, understanding, yield order, calm, humility, respect, integrity, patience, justice.

• Folly, with its mocking refusal to listen, yields dissension, strife, pride, deception, laziness, oppression.

That second list sounds depressingly familiar. The first is in short supply.

In a situation calling for great compassion, careful conversation, and deep discernment, we have politicians pointing fingers, positing ridiculous causes, offering politically-motivated non-solutions.

The 2016 election season seemed to plunge us deeper into folly. My readings with Encounter with God this month brought me back to Proverbs:

Do not make friends with a hot-tempered man, do not associate with one easily angered, for you may learn his ways and get yourself ensnared (22:24). 

Our president has demonstrated this danger, and ensnared far more Christians than I would have thought possible. I've been struck at how quickly even a simple question can lead to fury. I've watched in horror when thoughtful Facebook posts of friends yield furious all-caps responses that totally miss the point. That pattern of offense and anger is hard to break. Once ensnared, it's difficult to break free. 

Apply your heart to instruction and your ears to words of knowledge (23:12).

So much of what we hear has little basis in fact. By any proper use of the word, Kamala Harris is no socialist. While George Soros may fund Black Lives Matter organizations, most protestors are just everyday people heartsick at the treatment of people of color. Some of them are my neighbors, friends, members of my family. To push back, even a little, or to ask a cautious question, risks a furious response. Or maybe worse: "I just say what I hear. It's what I believe."

Doesn't truth still matter?

It's good to be reminded that it takes work to find the truth. but if we apply our ears and hearts to listening well, maybe we can get there. 

In my post in 2014, I asked: 

How do we sow seeds of wisdom in places mired in anger or confusion?

I suggested four steps toward sowing wisdom and it seems to me now they're a good place to start when trying to listen in the fog that surrounds us. I share them here and invite you to join me in them:

1. Learn before speaking.

We can’t all be experts on every issue that confronts us, but we can take time to learn before we voice opinions. If we haven’t taken time to look a little deeper, hear both sides of the story, understand the pros and cons,  maybe we should ask questions and listen rather than repeat accusations that stir our anger but not our understanding.

2. Evaluate ideas rather than judge people.

Too often we listen just long enough to label those around us: with us or against us. Socialist, Commie, Fascist, Feminazi. Narrow-minded Christian. Tree hugger. Bigot. Those labels deepen our divisions, keep us from exploring real solutions, and demonstrate our lack of wisdom.

3. Recognize folly and avoid it.

There are TV shows I choose not to watch because they promote a mocking spirit. There are radio broadcasts I don’t listen to because they deliberately stir division. I work hard to find sources that are balanced, thoughtful, more interested in finding solutions than fixing blame. If more of us chose our sources more wisely, maybe those sources would be easier to find.

4. Pray for wisdom, for yourself, our leaders, churches, communities, citizens.

Growing up, I saw more than my share of division, pride, anger, deception. I wanted something different. When I first read James 3, I caught of glimpse of what I hungered for. I’ve been praying for that, for myself and our world, for four decades now. Please pray with me!

But the wisdom that comes from heaven is first of all pure; then peace-loving, considerate, submissive, full of mercy and good fruit, impartial and sincere. Peacemakers who sow in peace reap a harvest of righteousness.  (James 3:17-18)   

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