My dear congregation, 

First, let me say how much I have appreciated the opportunity to talk to many of you and hear your stories about how Hurricane Sally has affected you. Most of you are clearing your yards of trees, branches, pine straw, and other debris. Some of you are waiting under blue tarps for the insurance adjuster to come and assess the damage to your roofs. Among you are those with water damage to floors, or flood damage to your business. You have shared with me the heartbreak you feel for your neighbors whose furniture and personal belongings are piled up on the street to be removed as trash. Some of you have had close calls with injuries that could have been much more serious, and yet, these are reminders of our vulnerability and we feel concern for all who are living alone in such circumstances. Even with all of this, over and over I have heard you say that you feel lucky, because you see others who did not fare nearly as well as you. With everything you have to complain about, I believe every one of you chose to count your blessings, rather than curse your fate. 

I have also heard heartwarming stories of those who have shown up to help or made offers to help those with more serious damage. The community is listening with ears and heart to one another. 

While all of this was on my mind, I opened the Soul Matters packet and read this story about the cricket and coins. 

Two people are walking down a busy city street. Everyone is rushing to and from their work, trying to get ahead. One of the friends turns to the other and says, “Do you hear that? It’s a cricket!” The other friend responds with doubt, but after focusing his attention finally hears it. “Wow,” he says, “How did you hear that cricket with all the noise around us?” His friend responds, “It’s all about how I was raised, about what I was taught to listen for.” He goes on, “Here, I’ll show you something.” The friend then reaches into his pocket and pulls out a handful of coins – nickels, quarters, dimes – and he drops them on the sidewalk. Everyone who was rushing by stops… to listen. 

The poet Joyce Sutphen writes: This is your chance to listen carefully. Your whole life might depend on what you hear. 

Last Sunday, my friend and colleague, Rev. Ruth Vann Lillian spoke to us about maps for journeys and how there is no map for the journey we are on right now. It occurs to me that listening is another kind of map to help us find our way. Listening doesn’t just guide us through the world, though, it creates our world. Listening creates a space into which we can enter with one another. A space that is more than just ordinary. Perhaps you could call it a sacred space. 

Our theme for October is Deep Listening. The question to contemplate is, what does it mean to be a people of deep listening? 

For me it probably means putting down the task that I feel pressure to complete, and picking up the phone to do something that I would actually enjoy much more, which is talking to people. If we haven’t spoken recently, please give me a call. I would love to share that space with you. 

In love and hope, 

Rev. Alice