The Listener

The Listener

I listened.
He seemed nice enough. I could read hurt in his face.
He said he just needed someone to talk to. Since I knew what that was like, I said yes.
I listened.

He opened up the secret wrongs against him. He told me sordid tales that shocked and angered me.
People had lied about him, maligned him, rejected him.
I listened on with innocent curiosity.
Sympathy rushed from my heart to his as he talked.
I put my hand on his shoulder as an unspoken word of encouragement.
But he would not be consoled.
And I listened on.

How could anyone treat a human being like this?
How could a Christian destroy another Christian like this?
This is not right, I said. Somebody ought to pay.
I leaped to take up his cause. I assured him that I had some connections.
I would get his story out. If I have to go all the way to the top, I determined to get justice for him.
So I did. Now, all I can say is that I listened.
But I wish I hadn’t.

I soon found out all the missing details.
The wind dissipated from my sails as the real truth slowly emerged.
Like a fool, I thought myself better than those over him.
I believed that I could understand and have compassion where they could not.
At some point, another thought should have occurred to me.
Why didn’t something he said, some gesture, some look catch my eye?
Why wasn’t I uncomfortable with his bitterness, his hatred?
Why didn’t I consider that there could be another side to his story?
Why didn’t I think that I could be manipulated, lied to, set up?
Why was I so willing to drink the spewings of a bitter fountain?
Did he prey upon my own pride? Did he expose a root of bitterness in my own heart?
He was a complaining Cain, an agitated Esau, a rebellious Korah
Drawing me into his distortions and wrongs.

My unwitting listening added credence to a malicious scheme.
He sported my name in his win column.
Never again.
Those who bypass their spiritual authority and come to me must never find a listening ear.