Peace in the Classroom: The Ministry of Listening

"My dear brothers and sisters, take note of this: Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry."

—James 1:19

There are certain ministries in education that everyone recognizes: teaching, guiding, correcting, celebrating, planning, supporting, discipling. There is another ministry that gets less attention but is just as transformative: the ministry of listening.

Teachers live in a world of constant output they are in full control over: instruction, feedback, decisions, redirections, encouragement. Yet some of the most powerful moments in a school day happen not when we speak, but when we choose to listen, when we fully take things in. I'll always cherish the moments with a dear colleague who taught me about listening. I’m wired for tasks, efficiency, and getting things done, often trying to listen while still moving at full speed. She knew that about me, yet she still came to my room at the end of the day, choosing conversation, connection, and support over convenience. She could have taken my distracted multitasking as disinterest or offense. Instead, she chose grace and overlooked my flaws. She stayed. Looking back, I’m convinced God placed her in my life to show me that real listening isn't just something we do, it's something we offer, even to those of us who don't make it easy.

Listening disrupts hurry. It interrupts our assumptions. It softens conflict. Listening is a form of love that slows the pace of our reactions long enough for compassion and grace to rise to the surface.

Nowhere is that more necessary than in conflict with the colleagues we spend the longest part of our days with. The disagreements that simmer beneath the surface as well as those that boil over, the tension in a meeting, the differences in opinions and methods, the misunderstanding in an email - all these moments tempt us to defend, react, attack, or retreat. But James calls us to something radically different: be quick to listen. Quick to ask a curious question instead of making a quiet judgment. Quick to wonder about the story behind someone’s behavior. Quick to consider that a colleague’s sharpness may stem from exhaustion, grief, pressure, or pain you cannot see. When we're honest about our own behaviors, before we quickly rush to judgment and response, grace asks us to quickly examine the ways our own behaviors may also need tending. And trust me, I acknowledge I’m the worst offender. My mouth and my mind love to form a fast-moving partnership, sprinting ahead long before wisdom catches up. If anyone needs the reminder to slow down and truly listen, it’s me. By God's grace and a great deal of practice, I am trying to learn to let patience set the pace.

Our students need our listening even more than they need our flawless lessons. Listening is one of the most powerful lessons we will ever teach our students. Long before they master literacy standards or memorize math facts, they are learning how to be people, how to notice, how to pay attention, how to support and encourage the person in front of them. When we model true listening, we’re shaping far more than classroom culture; we’re molding future friends, coworkers, spouses, citizens, and brothers and sisters - members of the body of Christ. We’re teaching them that every part of the body carries weight, and that understanding begins not with speaking, but by slowing down to hear someone else’s story. In a world clamoring with loud opinions and endless distractions, helping students learn to listen may be one of the most transformative gifts we can give.

Listening also heals more than we realize. In your classroom, in your hallway, in your meetings, there are voices longing to be heard. Not solved, not fixed, not corrected, simply heard. And when you listen with patience, curiosity, and gentleness, you offer the very heart of Christ, who meets people not with hurried answers and directives, but with His attentive presence.

And maybe that’s part of the beauty of Advent, that the God who could have shouted His arrival into the world instead came as an infant who could only listen before He could speak. The Savior of the world entered humanity in complete vulnerability and humility, where His listening was a demonstration of love. When we listen to colleagues, to students, and even to our own weary hearts, we reflect the humility of the Christ-child. The God who came near not with noise, but with presence.

Where Might Listening Be Your Ministry?

A colleague you’re in conflict with; where could listening soften the struggle?

A student who needs your full attention more than your full lesson?

A conversation you’ve been avoiding because tension feels easier than tenderness?

Prayer

Lord, teach me the ministry of listening. Help me listen with empathy to colleagues, with patience to students, and with humility to those I disagree with. Quiet my quick reactions and soften my desire to be right. Let my listening be evidence of grace, understanding, and peace. Fill my ears before You fill my mouth, so that my relationships reflect Your love. Amen.