Rob was frantically waving his hand in the air. Professor Chinn continued teaching, unfazed. “In a very sad turn of events,” he said, “God allowed his people to move away from him.”
To the annoyance of us all, Rob interrupted the professor. “Obviously, God doesn’t put up with people’s nonsense. They either believe him or they’re finished,” Rob exclaimed with confidence.
Rob was not the most popular student. He rarely listened to others. His words were sharp. His approach to people, critical. Having a one-way conversation with Rob was mentally draining. So, most of us avoided it.
Have you ever encountered a Rob? How did it make you feel? Did you leave the conversation wanting to pursue Jesus, or were you more concerned about avoiding Rob?
As it turns out, intellect, in and of itself, doesn’t produce godliness. Rob was smart but lacked humility. Knowing truth and speaking it boldly doesn’t mean a person is wise. In fact, the most biblically formed people are more inclined to listen than talk (James 1:19).
Fools find no pleasure in understanding but delight in airing their own opinions.
—Proverbs 18:2 (NIV)
Sadly, there’s a Rob in me. Perhaps there’s a Rob in you, too.
I’ve struggled with anxiety over the years, particularly in group settings. When I was in college, questions from a professor caused my heart to race. I wasn’t anxious about speaking as much as I was eager to let everyone know I was intelligent. I had to get the words just right.
Like Rob, I was arrogant. My arrogance hid behind a quiet demeanor. I rarely spoke up, which made me anxious. But pride was the source of my anxiety. I wanted to feel valuable. I needed praise from others. Because I didn’t know how to communicate, I stayed anxiously quiet, waiting for a moment to shine. I was essentially Rob, but a different expression of him.
By God’s grace, I’m learning to listen, to hear, to feel, to connect. I’m by no means perfect at it. But today, when I find myself in group settings, I turn my ears on—tuning into the frequency of others. I no longer have to be the smartest person in the room. A profound response matters very little. I want to have eyes to see, ears to hear.
Could it be that the wisest person in a room, the most loving person in a room, is the one who listens, not the one who speaks?
Fools think their own way is right, but the wise listen to advice.
—Proverbs 12:15 (NRSV)
I don’t want to be foolish. I’m going to practice listening in the days ahead.
Dare to join me?
Daniel Seabaugh 
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