When the Loudest Voice Drowns Out the Most Important One

On October 30, 1938, Americans tuning into CBS radio heard what sounded like breaking news: aliens had landed in New Jersey. A reporter's panicked voice described creatures emerging from a metallic cylinder, flames consuming everything in their path, and chaos spreading across the Eastern Seaboard. Churches filled. People grabbed guns. Emergency lines flooded with calls.

It wasn't real. It was Orson Welles' dramatized adaptation of "The War of the Worlds." The irony? Even the actors thought the script was boring. Welles himself called it lousy just hours before airtime. Yet because listeners tuned in late and missed the introduction, they gave credibility to the wrong source. Something designed for entertainment created distress. What should have brought joy brought fear instead.

This raises a fascinating question: What voices are we listening to, and what reactions are they creating in our lives?

The Message Everyone Missed

In Matthew chapter 2, we encounter one of the most puzzling moments in the Christmas story. Magi—scholars and religious leaders from approximately 900 miles away near Babylon—arrived in Jerusalem asking, "Where is the one who has been born king of the Jews? We saw his star in the east and have come to worship him."

Think about the magnitude of this journey. These weren't casual travelers making a day trip. They had been on the road for months, following a celestial sign so remarkable they left everything behind to find its meaning. They brought gold, frankincense, and myrrh—gifts fit for royalty.

Here's what's astonishing: the baby they sought was born in Bethlehem, just five miles from Jerusalem. Within walking distance. Yet everyone in Jerusalem was clueless.

The message had been there all along, prophesied in Scripture for hundreds of years. The people of Jerusalem grew up hearing about the coming Messiah. Every temple visit, every holiday celebration included these promises. And if that wasn't enough, the announcement was apparently displayed across the night sky for months.

These Magi probably weren't even followers of the God of Israel based on their background. Yet they were listening while the people who should have been tuned in couldn't hear a thing.

How does this happen?

Deafened by Our Own Voice

Dr. Alfred Tomatis once treated a renowned opera singer who mysteriously lost his ability to hit certain notes within his range. After extensive testing, the diagnosis was shocking: the singer had been deafened by the sound of his own voice. At 140 decibels—louder than a military jet—his singing had damaged his hearing. Because he couldn't hear the note, he couldn't sing the note.

Dr. Tomatis concluded: the voice can only reproduce what the ear can hear.

This principle extends beyond physical hearing to the ears of the soul. We cannot become who God wants us to be, do what He wants us to do, or receive what He wants us to receive if other voices have deafened us to the divine.

King Herod suffered from this spiritual deafness. Despite being known as one of the greatest builders in Jewish history—constructing elaborate fortresses and even rebuilding the temple—when the Magi arrived announcing the birth of the true King, Herod felt threatened rather than excited. At 70 years old and dying, he began plotting to eliminate this perceived threat to his power.

The religious leaders weren't happy either. Though they knew the prophecies and could quote where the Messiah would be born, they had aligned themselves politically with Herod. If his power was threatened, so was theirs.

Two different groups that should have been eager to hear God's message became deaf when it challenged everything they knew.

The Voices We Listen To

What voice dominates the airwaves of your life? What frequency are you tuned into?

Perhaps it's the voice that constantly demands more—always focusing on the next rung of the ladder, more deals, more money, more recognition. Or maybe it's the voice of distraction, the one that says if you keep enough noise around you, you won't have to address what's really going on inside.

For some, it's the voice of the internal critic, the relentless narrator insisting you'll never be good enough, never measure up. If someone else spoke to us this way, we'd avoid them completely. But what do we do when that voice comes from within?

Or perhaps it's the voice of worry, replaying worst-case scenarios on an endless loop.

Here's a particularly challenging one: the voice of the systems we've aligned ourselves with. Like the religious leaders connected to Herod, what happens when listening to God challenges the political party we support, the economic system that provides our stability, or the social circles that give us belonging?

These voices may not even be inherently bad or destructive. But the louder they get, the harder it becomes to hear what God is saying.

Learning to Tune In

The good news is this: while you can't always turn off competing voices, you can learn to tune in to the voice that matters most.

The human ear has a remarkable ability to recognize familiar voices. In crowded, noisy environments, we can somehow pick out the voices of those closest to us. Research shows that babies can recognize their mother's voice at birth. We're wired for this kind of vocal recognition.

If we can become so familiar with human voices, couldn't we do the same with our heavenly Father's voice?

Jesus once said, "He who has ears to hear, let him hear." It sounds redundant, but it's profoundly true. Having the physical ability to detect sound doesn't mean we're actually catching the meaning with our hearts and minds. God is speaking all the time. The question isn't whether He speaks, but whether we're listening.

This Christmas season, consider this: the message that Jesus has come is good news of great joy for all people. If that's not the response you're feeling, perhaps it's time to examine what voices are dominating your attention.

Create space to listen. Spend time with Scripture, hearing how God has spoken to others throughout history. When you pray, pause. Don't just present your list and sign off. Ask God what He wants to speak to you today.

The wonder of Christmas is that God still speaks—not just to the elite or the deserving, but to shepherds, stargazers, senior citizens, and young people living in obscurity. Good news comes even in chaotic and overwhelming circumstances.

You can't always silence every competing voice. But you can become so familiar with your Father's voice that you recognize it when He speaks.