You Talk Too Much10.0101

“You talk too much!”

Rather disrespectful words to say to a parish priest, don’t you think?

Sadly, I hear these words said to me on a regular basis. What’s worse is that they’re right. It’s not as bad as it sounds, for the person who is constantly saying that to me is me. But I have to tell myself that far too often. Here are a few examples:

Someone has come to discuss a problem with me. We sit down and they begin telling their story. I keep suggesting solutions that sound so simple and obvious, but would actually never work in reality.
I am talking too much.

The same person goes on, thankfully ignoring my useless interruptions. Now they are venting their emotions. Tears are flowing. I tell them a few meaningless clichés just to fill the silence between sobs. The clichés don’t help them, and they just make me feel even more useless because I have nothing meaningful to say. They would have been better left unsaid and I should have respected the silence that can sometimes allow that still small voice of God to be heard.
I am talking too much.

Now I am in a meeting and a decision needs to be made about some issue. An idea jumps into my head, and before I have thought about it I blurt it out. But it doesn’t really move matters forward, in fact it is more of a distraction from the real issue at hand. The meeting drags on longer and longer because of these red herrings.
I am talking too much.

Three or four youth are standing around and I go over and engage them in a little light conversation. Before I know it, I am doing all the talking and they are doing all the listening. That’s right of course, isn’t it? I’m the priest, and I have to teach? But it also means that I learn nothing about them; or from them. I miss out on all sorts of new perspectives and interesting ideas they might have opened up for me. I don’t get the chance to enter their world, to share in their lives and their cares and their joys.
I am talking way too much.

Standing at the pulpit I am delivering a sermon on Sunday. Things seem to be going well until I suddenly realise that I have left the real topic of the sermon and gotten on to one of my personal pet hates. With horror I realise that I am now using the pulpit not to spread the word of God, but the personal opinions of an individual. I look out, and all those innocent faces are looking at me attentatively, apparently enjoying my little gripe session. Dear Lord! I am teaching them to complain! Clearly, I am talking too much.

And so it goes on. And on. And on.

When will I learn to keep quiet?

Fr Ant

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