Listening to Ourselves

Two women, members of the same church, were magnetic opposites socially. People glommed onto the first, always surrounding her with chatty enthusiasm; the other stood sidelined with only glum and silent family members lined up on either side. As their pastor I engaged and flitted and observed. What made these women of similar temperaments, age, interests, and social strata so different conversationally?

5 Ways to Respond

I recalled psychologist Elias Porter’s grid for analyzing conversations. There are five basic responses we can give to anyone who addresses us, he said:

• EVALUATE – we can assess and offer judgment.
• INSTRUCT – we can tell the person what she should have done or could do.
• SUPPORT – we can express affirmation and care.
• PROBE – we can ask questions and draw out other information or feelings.
• UNDERSTAND – we can repeat and summarize things said, showing how we have caught what was said and encourage more.

We know this practically, even if we don’t think of it theoretically. Suppose you say to me, “I’m really tired today…” I can respond to you in one of these five ways:

• EVALUATE – “Well, if you didn’t stay out so late at night…”
• INSTRUCT – “You should take better care of yourself.”
• SUPPORT – “It’s tough to get going when your energy level is down, isn’t it?”
• PROBE – “Oh? What’s going on? Have you had trouble sleeping?”
• UNDERSTAND – “Hmm… You do look like you are dragging a bit today…”

Poorer Communication Skills than We Think

We like to think of ourselves as great conversationalists, eager and engaging. But most of us, according to researchers, express “evaluative” and “instructional” responses as our instinctive toss back. Unfortunately these are dialogue killers, placing us in moral superiority to the other, and setting her on the defense.

Less than 20% of our rejoinders are found among the last three, yet these are exactly what draw out and fertilize talk. The two women in my congregation proved it. Invariably the first sprinkled conversations with “Wow! That must be tough!” (support), “Really?! What did you do then?” (probe), or “I’m with you there…” (understand). The other always judged and told.

Around these two, which knot of people would you join? More importantly, how do others find you as a conversationalist partner? Can you hear yourself?

Learning to Listen More and Talk Better

I’ve assigned this analysis as an exercise during pre-marriage counseling. “Listen to other married couples you know,” I would instruct. “Discretely record their responses to one another on paper. Get 5-10 summaries, and connect them to what you observe of these couples’ relational health.”

Of course, there are a myriad of factors driving marriage strength. But invariably couples would come back with new insights about what seems to bind and strengthen and nurture intimacy, and what language choices drive wedges between people.

We learn our communication skills from our parents and cultural systems. These can be harsh and abrasive, like that which produced the lonely woman in my congregation, often resulting from immigration trauma, deep hurts, corrupt senses of self, or painful experiences. Or they can be loving and tender and engaging and encouraging, where spiritual wholesomeness was the air breathed in affirming circles.

The bad news is that we are all prone to sinful isolation and the use of evaluation and instruction as conversational weapons of self-preservation. The good news is that Christ has come as the healing Word of God, opening us to worlds of community and care and shared joy.

Good pastoral care by wise elders and patient friends opened the horizons for the second woman in my early congregational experience. Today, although some of the prickly conversational thorns remain, she has blossomed into a fine rose of supportive, probing and understanding grace.