Communion of Deep Listening

Jul 22 / Lynn Holt

Soul Collage created by Lynn Holt
as she reflected on her encounter with Presence in the inner sanctuary.


A message framed in a gallery of modern art jumped off the wall, “Sometimes I need to walk far away from where I am," and it pierced me at my core. It gave words to an abrupt change in my life that I hadn’t put into words at the time, but I knew in my deepest knowing place that I could no longer be where I no longer was. The spiritual failure and breakup of a beloved religious home and a devastating personal loss had swept away the familiar and certainty that shaped my life. I felt estranged from my spiritual home, alone and exposed. Parker Palmer describes moments of unintentional contemplation as times when the foundations of life seem to be swept away, and the route may offer “fearsome places.”1

“Fearsome places” challenge our identity, sense of belonging, and meaning-making. In Soulful Spirituality, Benner writes, "Our true spirituality is always the meaning we actually live, not the meaning to which we give cognitive or verbal assent. It is always expressed, therefore, in our behavior, not simply a believed story or a told story.... Ultimately, we need a meaning that will be strong enough to make suffering sufferable."2

None of us can escape fearsome places or suffering (and as a soul companion, I bear witness to others’ suffering), so on most Sunday mornings, I sit in a circle with others in the silence of waiting worship (or communion in the manner of Friends as it is traditionally called) in my local Quaker Meeting (Church). The outer silence of our gatherings is a spiritual practice that supports my intention to live in the inner silence of Divine Presence as I seek an active and faithful life.

On a recent Sunday, a gathering word was offered from Lamentations 3:31-33 NRSV:

"For no one is cast off by the Lord forever. Though he brings grief, he will show compassion, so great is his unfailing love. For he does not willingly bring affliction or grief to anyone."

The weekly facilitator read the passage twice and offered no context. There is a lot to reflect on in this passage! I confess I was very distracted as I wrestled with the implications of my theology: Does God cast people off? Does God actually bring grief? I found myself re-writing the verse to make it more palatable. Although the outer silence offered an absence of noise, the inner silence of stillness, connection, and perspective I longed for was elusive.

Twenty-five minutes in silence, a member told a story of an early failure in pursuing a professional license necessary for his career goals. Due to his failure and desire to become a good psychologist, he met weekly with a supervisor. Many years later, the now retired psychologist, author, and educator remembers his supervisor simply sharing that underneath all therapy conversations is grief. At the time, he wondered if it was that simple, but it stuck with him. As he finished, he suggested there is a connection between grief and compassion for healing and growth in therapy as well as in most helping professions and significant relationships. Immediately, I felt tears in the corner of my eyes as I remembered experiences of kindness and compassion. It was as if I tapped a hidden reservoir of compassionate stillness, a healing balm, for messages of rejection, failure, and shame. The simple story and message shifted me from a headful of theology to a heartfelt encounter in the inner sanctuary of soul and divine Presence.

 After several more minutes of silence, an 85-year-old member shared the grief around her aging and failing body and her need for compassion and connection with God. Another LONG pause, and a newer person shared layers of recent grief and loss. She mentioned a reflection from James Finley, "God spares us from nothing but is with us in all things....[and continued], I don't know how to keep going without the comfort of God's Presence with me, which I find in the birdsong, in nature - there I find Presence and compassion for my soul.

As I sat with my weekly companions in the silence of waiting worship, we shared the communion of deep listening, shared suffering, and compassion as we partook of the bread and wine of divine Presence. Together, we touched a flow of God's unfailing love and provision that "makes suffering sufferable." This shared silence and encounter supports my growth and capacity to listen my soul into greater discovery and disclosure so necessary for my lived faithfulness in the world.3

As soul companions, we sit with many who are grieving and bear witness to their stories of grief and pain as they ask questions that have no answers or immediate resolution. We invite seekers and grievers to listen to themselves and God through contemplative, compassionate, and evocative inquiry. Following the thread of one's experience, we pay attention to feelings and body language, pausing to invite deeper awareness and reflect on images and themes in life. It is not unusual for those offering the gift of deep listening to wonder, "Is just being present enough?" My experience says, “Yes!”

 My regular rhythm of meeting with a contemplative group that seeks the inner stillness of divine Presence has offered me a shelter of belonging and connection. In the waiting together, we experience compassion and rest that allow our suffering to be bearable. This practice supports my desire to recognize God's slow and loving flow in and through all things.


1Parker J. Palmer, The Active Life: A Spirituality of Work, Creativity, and Caring, 1st edition (San Francisco, Calif: Jossey-Bass Inc Pub, 1999), 28.
2David G. Benner, Soulful Spirituality: Becoming Fully Alive and Deeply Human, 1st ed (Grand Rapids, Mich: Brazos Press, 2011), 75–76.
3Douglas V. Steere, On Listening to Another (New York: Harper & Brothers, 1955), 14.

Lynn Holt
has “companioned” people for over two decades as a Quaker pastor, educator, spiritual director and supervisor. She welcomes ALL who seek to tend to their inner and outer lived experience to respond with hope and love for the sake of the world. She often sits with those whose spirituality and professional context invite deeper reflection and integration. She offers a compassionate listening presence, asks evocative questions, and hosts a spacious non-judgmental space that nurtures self-reflection, attentiveness, and growth.
Lynn is co-founder of the Companioning Center, a contemplative spiritual formation and training center for soul companions and spiritual directors based in the Quaker tradition of deep listening, waiting-silence, and discernment that supports faithful action in the world. A Recorded Minister among Friends, she has an MDiv from Portland Seminary and Certificates from the Mercy Center in Burlingame, CA, and Shalem Institute.