Have you ever thought about the big difference between  hearing  and  listening? We often make mistakes even in everyday language: we say “Hear me” or “Listen” when we really mean “Listen to me.” Do you know what it truly means to hear?

Hearing is passive and involuntary. “I just heard a bird,” “I heard the dog bark,” “I heard the train go by,” or “I heard my baby cry.” Hearing requires no effort or decision; it’s free; it simply happens. Sounds reach our ears without us doing anything about it.

Listening, on the other hand,  is an act of will. It’s a conscious and deliberate choice. I turn to you, look into your eyes, or we walk hand in hand because I love you and want to talk. It’s not always necessary to see you, but it’s much better if I do, because the eyes—and facial expressions—sometimes speak louder than words. A face reveals sadness, anguish, worry, or pain. I can notice all of that when I truly listen.

We hear so many things every day… but listening is paying attention to every word. It wants to understand; it’s desiring to understand what the other person is saying. “I would like to hear you. I would like to understand you.” That is an act of pure will.

Think about people who go to a psychologist: they lie down on the couch and talk. The psychologist hears boring, silly, profound, or very painful things… and yet they must listen word for word. As a priest, I experience something similar in confession. Sometimes the person doesn’t come to confess sins but to tell a long story: “My husband did this, my sister did that…” I have to listen. I can’t interrupt abruptly. Likewise, I can guide them to focus or open up—especially when there’s a line of 25 people waiting—but I need to hear why they did it, how they did it, to truly understand, guide, and advise them.

This applies especially to the closest relationships: between husband and wife, siblings, and parents and children. It’s not enough to simply hear each other. There’s no such thing as “Listen to me, listen to the train.” What we need is “Listen to me.” Listen to me to understand me so that what we say is constructive, and at the end of the conversation, we can both say, “We’ve made progress, we’ve grown, we’ve resolved something.”

One of the things that hurts me the most is when someone tells me about a difficult marital situation, and I ask them, “Have you talked it out? Have you discussed it?” And they reply, “Oh, Father, he never wanted to listen to me.” There were shouts, slammed doors, arguments, and heated exchanges… but no real listening. Sitting face to face, looking each other in the eye, and listening: “What’s wrong? What’s the matter?” Probably, if there had been genuine listening, everything would have been resolved much sooner.

I’ve heard heartbreaking stories: “Father, you haven’t listened to me for 15 years. Now I’ve made up my mind: I’m leaving home.” “What if” doesn’t exist. If you had listened instead of just hearing, perhaps we wouldn’t be here.

Listen. Make the effort to listen. Let’s do all the good we can.

Let us do all the good we can. May God always bless you.