Two Sons, One Father: A Yes That Is Lived

Some books you read once and move on from. Others seem to have something different to say when you return to them.

I have been reading Prudence: Choose Confidently, Live Boldly by Fr. Gregory Pine again. I first read it some time ago, but coming back to it now, at this particular point in my own formation and ministry, I found myself stopping at a question he asked himself during his own formation:

“Does my life have meaning, or am I just filling my days with noise?”

And that question seemed particularly appropriate this weekend.

The build-up to Mass on Sunday was certainly memorable—partly because of all the noise about the fact that there was no sound system!

We were trying to work out what wasn’t working, whether we could fix it, and whether we’d actually be able to hear the readings and the homily!

But my thoughts about noise and silence continued during the homily itself.

I noticed myself leaving some noticeable, but thoughtful pauses between my words. And afterwards, one of our parishioners mentioned those pauses to me.

It’s always good to know that someone was listening!

But it made me think: perhaps those pauses were actually saying something.

Because we often think of silence as the absence of something. No sound. No conversation. No activity.

But perhaps silence isn’t empty at all.

Sometimes we need silence precisely because it gives us the opportunity to listen.

And that brings me back to Fr. Gregory Pine’s question:

“Does my life have meaning, or am I just filling my days with noise?”

There’s the obvious noise of phones, social media, television, emails, messages, work and appointments. But there can also be a much quieter noise — the constant busyness that leaves us little room simply to stop and listen.

And if our lives are constantly filled with noise, when do we hear the Father’s voice?

That connects directly with what we have been reflecting upon: what does our “yes” to the Father actually look like?

It’s easy to say yes.

But the Gospel reminds us that our words must become something real in how we live.

Perhaps, then, part of saying yes to the Father is learning to become quiet enough to hear what he is asking of us.

To pause.

To listen.

And then, having heard him, to go and do what he asks.

Because perhaps the question isn’t simply:

“Am I keeping busy?”

But:

“Am I making space to hear God — and does the way I live show that I’ve listened?”

Deacon Neil Taylor