Our first assignment in Oral Interpretation of Literature class was to recite a poem. We had to choose between Shelly’s “Ozymandias”, and Robert Frost’s “Stopping by the Woods on a Snowy Evening.” The eighteen other people in class decided to recite the shorter work by Frost. It has always been my plan of attack (in school you must have a plan of attack), to choose the topic no one else wants. This makes it easier to stand out and the bar for success is significantly lower. So I chose the longer poem by Shelly. After 18 others had labored through Frost’s sing-song, four-foot lines of iambic meter, I got up and sucked every ounce of dramatic possibility out of Shelly’s poem. I thundered “My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings, Look on my works ye mighty and despair!” And then, in a piece of theatrical excess worthy of William Shatner, I paused for an eternity, before whispering my final lines: “nothing else remains. Round the decay of that colossal wreck the bare and boundless sands stretch far, far away…” I received applause and the only "A".

It was a shameful piece of work. Especially so because years later I read an interview with Robert Frost in which he explained that his deceptively sweet poem, “Stopping by the Woods,” is actually about a man contemplating suicide. It is there in the poem for anyone to hear if they will only listen. If I had cared about anything other than getting attention and an A, I would have delivered “Stopping by the Woods” the correct way, whether I received an A or not. But I was reading with my own agenda, not to discover what was actually there.

Reading is listening. It is as aural as it is visual. James reminds us that the first business of listening is keeping quiet, and assuming nothing: “Be swift to hear, slow to speak, and slow to anger” (James 1.19). Phillip asked the Ethiopian Eunuch “Do you understand what you are reading?” (Acts 8.30). The process of conversion is accomplished when we listen, comprehend, believe and act. As John so forcefully states in his gospel, everything begins with the Word. The Word is God embodied in Humanity communicated in words. “The Word was God” (John 1.1), and God’s very breath is in the words (II Timothy 3.16). I know this, and yet listen to so little.

Paul calls the process of listening a skill, the work of an artisan or craftsman – someone who works hard, works well, and takes care that a job is done right (II Timothy 2.15). Paul was a craftsman himself – a tent-maker/leather worker, so he knew how the two processes were indeed alike.

I’ve been reading the Bible every day for 34 years and continually find things I’ve missed before. This means that every reading brings with it the excitement of discovery. It also means my listening skills need a lot of improvement. I read this week that when Samuel comes to tell Saul God has rejected him as King because of his arrogance and disobedience, Saul is hard to find because he is busy erecting a monument to himself (I Samuel 15.12). I hadn’t noticed that before. It is an important part of the story. What else have I missed?

I mean to find out.