Don’t stop me if you’ve heard this one …
There was a woman who claimed to talk with God — not to Him, but with Him. The tale was well-told around town, in which there was also a priest.
The priest one day after Mass asked to speak with the woman and when they’d settled into chairs he said, ‘I’m told you speak with God.’
‘Yes, Father,’ said the woman. ‘We’re told to do so by the Holy Church.’
‘Yes,’ said the priest. ‘And He also speaks with you?’
‘Yes, Father,’ she said. ‘We’re told of times like that, too.’
‘I’d like you to do something for me,’ said the priest.
‘Certainly, Father.’
‘The next time you talk with God, and He talks with you, I want you to ask him a question for me, then give me a call — no matter what time.’
‘Of course,’ she said. ‘What wd you like me to ask Him?’
‘Ask Him what sins I confessed that week.’
‘Pardon?’
‘Sins,’ said the man. ‘Ask Him what I confessed. Then call and tell me what he said.’
‘Alright, Father.’
Several weeks passed and to be entirely truthful about it the priest began to think less about what he’d asked until it wasn’t generally at the fore of his thoughts.
Then early one morning the phone rang.
Early.
‘Hzzh,’ he said into the phone.
‘Father, it’s me,’ said a voice.
The priest sat up in bed.
‘Yes of course,’ he said.
‘Talked with God, again.’
‘Certainly; what’d he say?’
‘I asked him what you said.’
‘Yes, yes — of course. And … ?’
‘About what sins you confessed.’
‘And?’
‘He doesn’t remember.’