Hearing Is Not Yet Proclaiming
“Everyone should be quick to hear, slow to speak, slow to anger.”
One of the most helpful lessons I learned years ago came from Stephen Covey. He described the space between a stimulus and a response. In that space, we have the freedom to choose.
As a Christian, I've come to see that space differently.
That space is often where grace is at work.
During my early conversion, nearly every insight felt urgent. A Bible verse connected with another passage. A homily answered a question. A Church Father illuminated a mystery. My instinct was almost always the same:
"I need to share this."
There was love behind that desire, but there was also impatience. I quietly assumed that because I had heard something, I was ready to proclaim it.
God has spent the last few years gently correcting me.
Formation Comes Before Proclamation
Scripture is full of people who were formed long before they were sent.
Moses spent years in the wilderness.
Jeremiah was shaped by suffering before preaching.
The Apostles lived with Christ before Pentecost.
Even Jesus spent about thirty hidden years before beginning His public ministry.
God is rarely in a hurry.
Why should I expect to be?
The Church Already Has an Order
One of the greatest gifts of becoming Catholic has been discovering that Christ already established an order for His Church.
Not everyone has the same vocation.
Not everyone has the same authority.
Not everyone is called to teach publicly.
Christ entrusted the Apostles with teaching authority, and that authority continues through the bishops united with the successor of Peter. Priests share in that ministry as coworkers of their bishop, faithfully preaching, celebrating the sacraments, and shepherding the faithful.
The vocation of most of us is different.
The Catechism reminds us that the laity are called to seek the Kingdom of God by living faithfully in the ordinary circumstances of family life, work, and society. Their mission is to sanctify the world from within by living the Gospel where God has placed them (cf. CCC 897–900).
That realization has brought me tremendous peace.
I no longer feel responsible for solving every theological question or reacting to every controversy.
Christ has not left His Church without shepherds.
Hearing Is Not Yet Proclaiming
One of the biggest changes in my own formation has been learning to pause.
There is another space—not only between stimulus and response—but between hearing and proclaiming.
Sometimes God allows us to hear something simply so it can transform us.
Not everything we receive is immediately meant to become a lesson for someone else.
Sometimes the Holy Spirit whispers,
"Live this first."
That changes everything.
Instead of asking,
"How can I explain this?"
I find myself asking,
"Lord, how do You want this to change me?"
That question is far more uncomfortable.
It is also far more fruitful.
Salvation History Helped Me See It
Recently I found myself asking where we stand in salvation history.
Years ago, I would have chased timelines, signs, and predictions.
Instead, the Church gave me a wonderfully simple answer.
We are living in the age of the Church.
The Gospel is preached.
The sacraments are offered.
Divine Mercy is extended to the world.
Our task is not to calculate the hour.
Our task is to remain faithful.
That answer wasn't spectacular.
It was peaceful.
The more I accepted the Church's teaching, the less anxious I became about trying to figure everything out.
Humility Is Receiving Before Speaking
Looking back, I can see that some of my urgency came from pride more than I realized.
Not arrogant pride.
The subtle pride that believes every insight must immediately become my mission.
God has been patiently teaching me another way.
Receive.
Pray.
Live it.
Let it mature.
If He wishes, He will provide the opportunity to share it later.
The Church has preserved the faith for two thousand years.
I do not have to carry the Church on my shoulders.
I simply need to remain within her, receiving what Christ has already given.
A Quiet Joy
There is unexpected freedom in accepting my place.
I don't need to be the loudest voice.
I don't need to answer every objection.
I don't need to fear missing some hidden truth.
Christ founded His Church.
He gave her shepherds.
He gave us the sacraments.
He gave us the Eucharist.
My task is beautifully ordinary.
To listen.
To believe.
To obey.
To love.
And perhaps that is one of the greatest signs that formation is taking root—not that I have more to say, but that I have become more willing to let God speak first