Yesterday, the judge in the Dr. Conrad Murray trial–he was Michael Jackson’s physician and is on trial for killing him–gave a witness a lesson in interpersonal relationship skills.

Turned away from the spectators, the judge addressed a woman in the witness chair. He said: “Now, Ma’am, you are to listen to the full question before you answer. I know when we have conversations with people, we often think we know what they are about to say, and sometimes we answer before they finish. You cannot do that here. Listen to the full question before you respond.

“Then, when you respond, you must not simply nod your head or say ‘Uh huh’ or ‘huh uh.’ You must answer ‘yes’ or ‘no’ to the questions.

The judge looked at her sternly and said, “Do you understand this, Ma’am?”

“Yes sir.”

A pity we can’t send some friends we know into that courtroom and have the judge instruct them.

A pity someone didn’t send me to that judge a long time ago. Those lessons are vital, not only to courtroom procedure, but to functioning well in our daily lives.

If there is one thing I excel in–and that’s debatable–this is not it. I have always been a better talker than listener. And that, for one called by God to minister to His sheep, is a major failing.

If the work a pastor does from the pulpit on Sunday can be likened to a doctor’s prescribing, then only by listening during the week can he properly diagnose.

Have you ever gone to a doctor who would not listen, but insisted that he knew what you needed before you opened your mouth? If so, you changed physicians in a hurry.

Why do we preachers think listening to our people–to anyone we are trying to help–is of little importance? The skill of listening is one of the rarest of qualities in ministers, but when you find it, you know you have found a jewel of a minister.

Some of what follows has been printed in a seminary textbook, “Interpersonal Relationship Skills for Ministers,” compiled and edited by Jeanine Bozeman and Argile Smith.

It must have been ten years ago that Argile Smith, professor of preaching at New Orleans Baptist Theological Seminary, called to say he and Dr. Bozeman were compiling this book, with chapters by various ministers. Would I be willing to pen the chapter on “How to Listen?”

I broke out in laughter.

“What?” he said.

I said, “My brother, if there is one thing I do poorly, it’s listen. The Lord has worked on me for years about this. I must have a half-dozen books on the subject.”

“Then you’re the one to write it,” Argile said.

And so I did. It was a positive experience, forcing me to give prolonged attention to this area of my life and ministry I had all too conveniently dismissed even while feeling badly about my lack.

Here are some principles about listening which I’m still trying to master.

1. Value the speaker or forget it. This is about your love for people.

I traveled fifteen miles to hear author Pat Conroy speak at a book-signing last year. When he was introduced, we applauded. When he opened his mouth, we grew silent. We had come to hear him. No one wanted to miss a thing he said. Had someone in the audience tried to talk over him, they would have been lynched.

When you are speaking and your intended audience carries on separate conversations around them, they are sending you a message you must not miss: Please finish; we are through listening to you. You will want to finish in a hurry and step down.

2. Focus on the one speaking or insult them. This is about eye contact.

I called to you across the campus. You stopped and I caught up with you. I was glad to see you because I had a story you would surely enjoy. However, as I went on and on relating the tale, your eyes kept darting around at those who passed us. Once or twice, a friend would tap you on the shoulder as he walked by and the two of you exchanged pleasantries. Then, your attention shifted back to me.

That’s no fun. I expect we’ve all been guilty of doing it. Overcoming the temptation to look around to see who else is headed this way takes self-discipline, and that is work.

3. Put your posture to work for you or sleep through it. This is about marshalling all your forces.

A slumped church member sends a coded message to the minister that he is not worth hearing. Furthermore, his own prone body reads the same decrypted note and tries to go to sleep.

He who would listen well to a sermon or classroom lecture does well to sit straight with feet on the floor, and backside all the way to the read of the seat. Some have said we preachers did ourselves no favors when we brought cushioned pews into the sanctuary. However, as one who has to listen to a lot of sermons from others, I appreciate them. Those hardwood benches can get mighty hard after a while.

4. Make your mind listen or miss it. This is about discipline.

I’m embarrassed to admit this, but, I’ve actually said to someone who was speaking to me, “Would you forgive me. My mind wandered, and I don’t want to miss what you’re saying. Would you mind starting back at the beginning?” (Being sure to smile and look humble, lest they take offence.)

It’s about mental focus, one of the most essential components in pastoral counseling. (The four basic elements in counseling, for my money, are: active listening, silent praying, gentle prodding, and timely teaching. And the greatest of these is active listening.)

We’re told that everyone’s mind wanders occasionally as they take in sermons and classroom lessons. Perhaps it’s because the human brain is so complex and adept that it can multi-task, and we’re able to do exactly what our teenage son has assured us he was doing: studying a lesson while typing on the computer, playing a game, watching television, talking on the phone, and listening to music.

The challenge to ministers and teachers is to vary the approach frequently so as to keep the listener involved. That’s why the preacher tells a story, quotes a scripture, has everyone recite some phrase along with him, mentions a name or incident well-known to the hearers, gives three or four or five principles, and tells another story. He raises his voice sometimes, and at other times lowers it. He steps from behind the pulpit and walks to one side. He gestures. The large screens above his head project the points of the message.

the pastor is trying to help his audience listen. Both the speaker and the hearers have tough assignments.

The great Billy Sunday used to hoist a chair above his head and slam it to the floor with a bang, breaking it into slivers. We’re told that without amplification or magnification–this was the early 20th century–he was fighting to keep the attention of his audience.

5. Ask an occasional question or lose focus. This is about variety.

No one can listen to a speaker go and on without his mind wandering, unless he takes regular steps to keep focused. A good way is to stop him with a question. This gives the hearers time to rest for a moment from the constant barrage upon their eardrums.

Our Lord was called the consummate teacher. We may assume he was likewise a powerful preacher, since the cities emptied whenever He stood to preach on a rural hillside. But even Jesus was interrupted by the occasional question. Those moments, far from hijacking His train of thought, gave Jesus the opportunity to drive home His point in memorable ways. Some of the best-loved and most-quoted scriptures are accounts of someone asking a question and His answer.

6. Recap what you heard or assume you will lose much of it. This is about understanding.

“Let’s see if I’ve got it now,” you say to the one unloading on you or passing along some vital information or teaching you an algebra formula or giving directions to the nearest restaurant. You quote it back the way you understand it, then listen for affirmation or correction.

In a classroom or sanctuary, you cannot very well do that. That’s why you take notes.

I’m always pleased when, as the guest preacher, I see in the church bulletin a half page left blank under the heading “Sermon Notes.” Someone has been trying to teach these church members to listen proactively.

7. Involve the Lord in what you are hearing. This is about prayer.

As someone stands before us delivering a devotional or lesson or testimony or instructions or a sermon, we speak to the Lord in our spirits, asking Him to give special strength to our friend who is addressing us or to give understanding to those of us trying to make sense of what we are receiving. This too is prayer.

8. Now go do one thing more: tell it to someone else. This is about retaining it.

People say to me, “I can never remember a joke.” I tell them, “Neither can I–until I pass it along to someone. In retelling it, my mind decides whether it wants to keep it.”

I’ll be sitting at the computer and come across a great story, one I know I’ll be wanting to pass along. So, I go back and reread it, making sure to get the details right. Then, I get up and turn away from the screen and practice telling the story as though to an audience. Once or twice, I might have to turn back and check the written material to clarify a point or make certain I’ve worded it just so. Then, within an hour, I call someone or walk over to the church office and tell it to the first available victim.

As a new seminary student, the way I was able to retain Bible lessons from Professor George Harrison, one of the finest Hebrew and Old Testaments ever, was to tell my wife everything he had said that day. That’s why Margaret came to love Dr. Harrison as much as I did. We frequently had him in the churches we pastored, and in our home.

Dr. Harrison had a great sense of humor. In July 1964, he told the class, “There is some dispute about what language Balaam’s donkey was speaking in. We can’t decide whether it was ASSyrian or HeBRAYic.”

One does not forget such profound material as this.