Reflecting Love

This entry is part of a series of blogs about ways that music, both secular and religious, can enlarge our Spirits and deepen our exploration of the Advent and Christmas seasons.

Open My Eyes That I May See

It is an ordinary hymn, as hymns go, written over 100 years ago. With its steady rhythm and predictable refrain it is suitable for choirs to harmonize, congregations to sing and worship planners to insert into the hymn selection rotation.  It is not a Christmas Carol at all, but a traditional hymn sung in traditional churches for decades.  Yet, it is this hymn’s melody and words that I thought of as I read an Advent scripture describing Mary’s visit to Elizabeth in the weeks following momentous happenings in both of their lives.  Elizabeth was in the midst of a late-life pregnancy, miraculous in its own right, but made even more so by the truth of whom her new son would become- John the Baptist. Her young cousin Mary was wrestling with unexpected news of her own—the incredulous knowledge that she would bear the long-awaited Christ child.  [See Luke 1: 39-44]  I imagined their meeting, one which I admit I often skip over in order to immerse myself in the following verses, Mary’s beautiful song of praise the Magnificat. This time instead of focusing on Mary, I thought about Elizabeth and her key role as a listener and receiver of Mary and her news.  Elizabeth saw, felt and heard something amazing unfolding.  Mary was recognized, perhaps for the first time in her brief life, as a valuable and sacred person. Sacred…. only two letters exchanged and that word becomes scared.  Elizabeth’s ability to truly hear and see Mary could have transformed her from a scared woman to a sacred one. Something unknown was becoming known.  Something hidden was illumined.  Something unexpected was transformed into a new expectation. The newly powerful words of the old hymn wafted through my heart as I sang:

Open my eyes that I may see, glimpses of truth Thou has for me…

Silently now I wait for thee

Open my eyes, illumine me

Spirit Divine¹

Glimpses of truth–Divine Illumination… These sound like Advent ideas to me, though I would never find this hymn in the Advent section of my battered Chalice hymnal. As I overlaid this hymn onto the morning’s scripture, a hint of illumination sparkled. One of the simplest, most powerful things that Elizabeth did was to be present for Mary in a deep way, a way that joined with her, heart to heart and soul to soul.  The Bible story does not detail Mary’s initial words of greeting or describe her state of mind. Perhaps Mary tumbled into Elizabeth’s arms, blurting out her amazing story. Perhaps she was confused or unsure of her welcome or Elizabeth’s reaction. What a relief, what a treasure, this attentive witnessing must have been for Mary as she relaxed into the presence of her cousin’s understanding and acceptance.

During this hectic season, my own listening skills could use some work as I try to break some lifelong, annoying habits—starting conversations and wandering away–giving surface attention while my mind composes another one of its ever present to-do lists—quickly turning from listener to advice-giver. It takes work to give others my genuine attention, to connect with others’ thoughts and reflect them without judgement or correction. It takes a certain kind of listening, reflective listening, to capture the essence of another’s thoughts.  Reflective listening—As a teacher of young children, I was trained in that skill, carefully taught how to intentionally connect with another child or adult by silently listening with full attention, and then sometimes repeating their words or rephrasing them.  It is a way to slow down and be fully present to others, as well as to ensure that their messages are clear and their feelings are acknowledged. While reflective listening can be learned and improves with practice, there are also people who instinctively give this sort of focused attention to others. I can easily imagine Elizabeth as that sort of person, someone to whom a young Mary would be drawn: a woman with that unique combination of empathy and attention and comfort from whom Mary would gain courage during an uncertain, unexpected and scary time.  

I had my own chance to be a reflective listener during a recent holiday party where I met a woman, a recent widow.  As she talked and shared Christmas memories, I could feel the sadness underneath her stories.  Instead of my typical response of ignoring her unspoken messages or giving her half an ear and a sliver of my time, I asked her to tell me about her husband, and about this first Christmas without him– not a typical Christmas party topic. In that moment, I sensed that it was important for her to feel heard, and for me to listen.  And listen was all I did. I did not offer words of cheer as another woman tried to do, offering the advice or platitudes that come easily to our lips—things about how good memories make grief easier, or how we can be thankful for the many years we had or the blessings we can count.  The grieving woman did not need advice or pat answers.  She needed to be seen and to be heard for a brief moment of quiet during a lively Christmas celebration.  Like Mary, she needed to entrust her being to another’s tender care.  Like Elizabeth, I needed to lay aside my own agenda, and receive and reflect another’s emotions, both spoken and unspoken. 

Open my ears that I may hear

voices of truth thou sendest clear…

.

Silently, now, I wait for Thee

Ready my God, they will to seek

Open my ears, illumine me

Spirit Divine.

As I read about that long ago meeting between Elizabeth and Mary, I did not notice a lot of advice being given. As Mary arrived, Elizabeth heard and recognized the Sacred in Mary’s presence.  When Elizabeth did speak, she gave, instead of advice, a blessing that was neither a pat answer nor a pat on the head. 

Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the child you will bear…Blessed is she who has believed that what the Lord has said to her will be accomplished. (Luke 1: 42, 45)

This response came from deep within the warm truth of God’s love, sent through an ordinary woman with words of Illumination and Clarity and Comfort and Love.  Words of belief and not doubt.  Words of acceptance and yes, even joy. Elizabeth knew the powerful Spirit voice, and tuned her eyes, ears, mouth and heart to that overwhelming Presence.

Open my mouth and let me bear

Gladly the warm truth everywhere

Open my heart and let me prepare 

      Love with thy children thus to share 

Silently, now I wait for Thee

Ready my God thy will to see

Open my heart, illumine me, 

Spirit Divine.

Not a Christmas carol?  Not an Advent hymn? This hymn may never be included in a medley of classic Yuletide favorites or in a service of Lessons and Carols, but it perfectly captures the ways that we can participate in the holy practices of hearing, speaking, and reflecting.  Reflective listening was not originated in a teacher training manual, and is not reserved for professional counselors. It is something that each one of us can do, for we all have access to that special sensitivity that comes from the heart of Love. There are surely times  when, through our openness to God’s Presence, we can experience transformation from the scary to the sacred .Nothing could be more important in this busy, sometimes frantic rush toward Christmas Day than a gentle reminder of how Spirit Divine can turn every day encounters into sacred opportunities to deeply connect with another human being.  That is a reliable Christmas classic, a Lesson and a Carol that needs to be shared and a melody that need to be heard whenever and wherever we are.

¹ Excerpts from Hymn Open My Eyes That I May See, Hymn by Clara H. Scott, 1895.  See Chalice Hymnal, 1995 for complete words and music.

O God. Thank you for being the giver of sight, hearing and touch and heart .Thank you for this reminder that there are many people during this time of year who only want to be seen, heard and touched with the warm presence of shared connection.  May I turn from my own agenda and reflect your Love to those around me.  Amen.

Reflection Questions:

In what ways have you been the receiver or giver of reflective listening?  What was the impact of that experience?

From scary…to sacred.  Reflect on a similar time of transformation in your life.