The Deacon

By Deacon Greg Moran

The Illusion of Listening

Every Sunday, millions of Catholics gather in faith, hoping to hear a word from God that will speak into their lives. Yet many leave Mass unable to recall the homily – or worse, never truly heard it at all. This is not a failure of belief. It is often a failure of connection between the Word proclaimed and the listener who longs to receive it.

The modern preacher speaks to a congregation unlike any in previous generations: many are biblically under-formed, culturally distracted, spiritually wounded, and physically aging, yet still deeply yearn for meaning. If preaching is to become an encounter rather than a ritual pause, we must first recognize the obstacles that shape how people listen.

The Word of God has not lost its power. Yet it is often proclaimed into hearts unprepared, unfocused, or unsure how to receive it. Awareness, therefore, is where pastoral preaching begins.

As the Church teaches, the homily is “to be highly esteemed as part of the liturgy itself,” ordered to unfolding the mysteries of faith within the Eucharistic celebration (cf. Sacrosanctum Concilium, 52). Likewise, Evangelii Gaudium reminds us that preaching is a privileged moment of dialogue between God and His people (135–137). Because the homily belongs to the Church’s worship, it must remain unmistakably Christ-centered. For the deacon in particular, preaching flows from his configuration to Christ the Servant. He does not stand above the Word, but beneath it, as one entrusted to make that Word audible, intelligible, and pastorally effective.

1. A Diminished Scriptural Foundation

Many Catholics have grown up with sincere faith but limited biblical formation. They have heard Scripture proclaimed for decades, yet often as isolated passages rather than as a unified history of salvation. When a preacher references Isaiah, Paul, covenant, or redemption, many listeners lack the narrative framework needed to understand the context. The homily may be theologically sound, yet functionally inaccessible.

This is not a lack of intelligence. It is a lack of formation.

Today’s preacher must assume less background knowledge than in previous generations. This does not mean simplifying the faith, but rather illuminating it. A brief phrase, such as, “At this moment in Israel’s history…” or “Paul is writing to a struggling community…” can provide the scaffolding necessary for understanding. Every homily, in some small way, must teach before it applies. Without comprehension, transformation rarely follows.

2. Learned Inattention

Over time, many parishioners have quietly lowered their expectations of the homily. After years of uneven preaching — whether too abstract, too lengthy, or insufficiently prepared — they have developed a habit of disengagement. The homily becomes, for some, the pause between the Liturgy of the Word and the Liturgy of the Eucharist. This is not rebellion. It is learned inattention.

When listeners no longer expect to be nourished, they arrive in a kind of spiritual autopilot. Even a strong homily can wash over conditioned disengagement. The preacher’s first task, therefore, is not information but attention and trust. An opening rooted in human experience can awaken dormant ears: “Have you ever felt unseen, even by God?” or “Have you noticed how quickly we forget what matters most?” Such questions signal that the Word being proclaimed matters – not abstractly, but personally. Over time, clarity, consistency, and pastoral warmth rebuild trust. And trust restores expectation.

3. The Noise-Saturated Mind

The modern listener does not arrive at Mass empty. He comes carrying digital noise, financial concerns, family pressures, cultural anxiety, and fatigue. We live in an age of divided attention. In such an environment, every unnecessary word becomes a burden. Every tangent increases mental drift.

More than ever, the preacher must aim for one central idea, expressed through a clear structure, brought to life in concrete application, and carried by memorable phrasing. In this way, clarity keeps listeners oriented, brevity respects the limits of attention, and resonance allows the truth of revelation to touch and shape lived experience. This is not merely technique; it is pastoral charity. To preach well is to love the listener enough to speak in a way that can actually be received.

4. The Wounded Listener

Every congregation carries invisible burdens, grief, betrayal, disillusionment, anger, financial strain, addiction, loneliness, and quiet doubt, and the same exhortation that motivates one listener may feel like condemnation to another, while a theological explanation may entirely miss a grieving heart. Preaching, therefore, is not simply the transmission of ideas but an act of pastoral accompaniment in which tone, expression, and cadence all matter.

Before writing a word, the preacher must ask what wounds sit in these pews, for even a simple acknowledgment like, “Some of you may be carrying burdens that seem too heavy for faith today…” can open a heart long closed. The goal is not to win arguments, but to make room for grace.

5. The Temptation of Abstraction

There is a subtle temptation among well-formed clergy to allow the homily to become overly conceptual; seminary formation rightly values precision and depth, yet what nourishes the scholar may overwhelm the parishioner. Terms such as “Paschal Mystery,” “covenantal fulfillment,” or “eschatology,” though theologically rich, do not always readily communicate to the average listener. Christ Himself did not speak in abstractions, but in seeds, lamps, coins, and sheep, translating divine mystery into the language of daily life. The task of the preacher, therefore, is not to reduce the mystery, but to incarnate it, to make it touchable. Clarity is not compromise; it is compassion.

6. The Need for Translation

Preachers live within a theological vocabulary that feels natural, salvation, grace, redemption, discipleship, yet for many parishioners these words remain familiar but indistinct. The preacher says “salvation,” and heads nod, but what does it mean in a marriage, a workplace, or a hospital room? Consider the difference between saying, “Salvation is participation in the Paschal Mystery,” and “Salvation is God rescuing us, again and again, and reminding us who we truly are.” Translation does not dilute doctrine; it embodies it.

7. Preparation as Reverence

The temptation to “wing it” is real; the week is full and Sunday arrives quickly, yet inconsistency breeds disengagement, and parishioners easily recognize when a homily lacks preparation. Grace builds upon nature, and thus preparation becomes an act of reverence – involving exegesis, what did God say then; prayer, what is God saying now; application, where does this meet real life; and delivery, how will this be heard clearly. For the deacon, such preparation is not merely functional but flows from his vocation to serve the Word in communion with the bishop and priest, mediating the Gospel between altar and world.

8. The Body Preaches

Preaching is embodied. The preacher’s posture, movement, and pacing communicate as clearly as his words, such that reverent stillness often conveys gravity and humility, while excessive movement can distract from the message. Notes are not weaknesses but discipline, protecting clarity, preventing rambling, and ensuring consistency – for the body, like the voice, must serve the Word.

9. The Reality of Hearing

One of the most overlooked obstacles is literal hearing, as a significant portion of parishioners are older and many experience hearing loss; thus simple adjustments become acts of charity, like remaining at the ambo, slowing the pace, speaking clearly and deliberately, avoiding trailing off at sentence endings, and using intentional pauses. For if the Word is to be received, it must first be heard.

The Call to Pastoral Awareness

Preaching today requires more than theological knowledge; it requires perception. To preach well is to see the listener – fatigued, distracted, wounded, aging, yet still hungry for hope, so that the preacher no longer speaks merely at the assembly, but for them. The homily, situated within the Eucharistic liturgy, is ordered toward encounter, preparing the heart to recognize Christ made present on the altar, as Word and Sacrament together form a single movement of grace. The goal of preaching is not simply to inform, but to awaken a faith strong enough to be lived, helping the listener realize that God’s Word is meant for him.

Even the most eloquent homily cannot guarantee conversion, yet when preparation, clarity, empathy, and reverence converge, the illusion of listening gives way to true hearing; and when true hearing occurs, something holy takes place, as the Word no longer merely passes through the mind, but takes root in the heart. This is the sacred work entrusted to every preacher, and for the deacon it is a participation in the very mission of Christ the Servant, who came not to be served but to serve, and to give His life for many (cf. Mark 10:45). Effective preaching, therefore, is born not first from technique, but from prayer – and from a preacher who has first allowed the Word to address, heal, and convert his own heart. TD

DEACON GREG MORAN serves in the Diocese of Buffalo, NY.

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