Be Opened!

In Nomine Iesu
St. Mark 7:31-37
September 6, 2009
Pentecost 14

Dear brothers and sisters in Christ Jesus~

I have to tell you up front that the healing of the deaf and mute man in today’s Holy Gospel is, for me, one of the most meaningful and moving moments in our Lord’s entire ministry. It’s probably because there’s not a day that goes by when I don’t interact with someone whose hearing or speaking is impaired. In some instances the ears can hear and the lips can speak, but it’s the brain that impairs and impedes the communication process. The dyslexic, the autistic, the deaf, folks with Alzheimer’s, stroke victims—all find themselves struggling with incoming or outgoing language. And because of that struggle with language these people, as a general rule, tend to be somewhat isolated—somewhat removed and remote from the people around them. That’s just how it is when you have trouble hearing and speaking. But with today’s gospel reading ringing in my ears, I envision Jesus bringing healing and blessed clarity to each one of these dear souls.

But to the average listener what probably jumps out about this healing is the method by which the man was healed. We’ll get to that in a moment. But first of all, don’t overlook how it came to pass that this deaf and mute man came to be in the presence of Jesus. Notice what got the ball rolling. Some of the man’s friends believed enough about Jesus to bring their suffering friend to the Savior. These days we call that “evangelism” (bringing people to Jesus), and we tend to assign that kind of work to committees and boards and task forces. We talk a lot about evangelism, and how we should be doing more of it. But what it boils down to in the end is bringing the people you know (here) to Jesus so that He might bless them. It’s really that simple.

And then notice how Jesus took the man aside, away from the crowd. Jesus doesn’t want to make a big production for the six o’clock news and the tabloids. Jesus’ method is entirely different from the so-called faith healers of today. Jesus never sought celebrity. And He doesn’t use the misfortune of others to draw attention to Himself. Jesus was completely there for that man at that moment. He had the Savior’s undivided attention. When you’re deaf and mute you can never be quite sure what’s going on around you. But that man at that moment knew that he mattered—knew that he was loved—by Jesus.

And what do you think of the Savior’s medical methodology? Jesus put His fingers into the man’s ears. Then he spits on his fingers and touches the man’s tongue. How would you like it if your physician did that to you? (There’s a medical malpractice lawsuit just waiting to happen.) Spit that belongs to somebody else is generally regarded these days as gross—a bio-hazard. I know it always makes me feel kind of bad when I go to get my teeth cleaned by the first-rate dental hygienists at Dr. Dowsett’s office and the hygienist walks into the room dressed in enough protective gear to be working at a toxic waste dump (gloves, shield, mask, apron, etc.). I try not to take it personally. It’s not just me, right? It’s all done for the sake of spit!

But for just a moment let’s put aside all our presuppositions about saliva and look at what’s going on here. Jesus is using a kind of sign language. He was communicating a message that couldn’t be missed, even by this deaf and mute man—who missed so many important messages. As Jesus touched him—touched his ears and his tongue—and then as Jesus looked up to heaven, Jesus was saying to this poor man, “I know. I know. I understand your problem, brother. You’ve got ears that don’t hear and a tongue that doesn’t work and I’m going to do something about it. I’m lifting up my eyes to heaven ‘from whence cometh our help.’ That’s my Father’s home. But I’ve left that place to come here and to be with you and with all those who lives have been disordered and destroyed in this sin-filled, God-forsaking world.”

Perhaps it was the thought of this sin-filled, God-forsaking world that caused Jesus to sigh. The NIV says that he “sighed deeply,” but an alternate translation would be that Jesus “groaned.” Why would Jesus groan as He gave back to this man the ability to hear and speak perfectly? St. Mark doesn’t tell us why Jesus groaned. Perhaps it was because human sinfulness has no more effective means of expression than human ears and human tongues—our ears and our tongues. Ears that hear are a great gift from God. But what do we do? We who can hear close our ears to God’s Word and God’s will for our lives. His commandments routinely fall on our deaf ears. On the flip side, our ears work exceptionally well—our hearing is never so acute—as when we tune into gossip and slander and the voice of temptation. We use our ears to hear what we want to hear, while tuning out the needs of those closest to us, those whom God has given us to love.

And then there are tongues. Tongues that speak and sing and pray are a great gift from God. But we who can speak—we are experts at closing our mouths when it comes to prayer, praise, and thanksgiving. We by nature prefer to use our tongues for careless words of complaining, for harsh words of anger, for cutting words of gossip, inflicting more pain than any weapon ever could. Human tongues have the hardest time defending our neighbor, speaking well of him, and explaining his actions in the kindest way. And so I ask, with all the misuse and abuse carried out by our tongues and by our ears, is it any wonder that Jesus groaned?

But then comes the best part, when Jesus speaks His Word: “Ephphatha,” He says in Aramaic, “Be opened!” Did the deaf man hear this word? Were these the first sound waves to make their way into his newly opened ears? Or did he read the Savior’s lips and “see” the word as it was spoken? We don’t know, and it doesn’t matter. What matters is that the Word of Jesus gets results. The Word of Jesus get results in human ears and human hearts—even in ears that don’t hear and even in hearts that are hard and crusted over with sin. That word, “ephphatha,” and its results, show that Jesus can open whatever is closed, free whatever is bound, resurrect what is lifeless, dead and hopeless.

The people in that place were amazed beyond all measure, declaring of Jesus, “He has done all things well.” But the English word “well” doesn’t go far enough. This is the same word spoken by the creator God back in Genesis chapter one as He surveyed all that He had created, and called it “very good.” It was wonderfully beautiful, only to be decimated by sin and its wages. But in Jesus Christ God has come in human flesh to make all things new—to make deaf ears hear and cause mute tongues to sing and shout for joy. Jesus has indeed done all things exceptionally well—beautifully, wonderfully and perfectly.

“Ephphatha. Be opened,” said the Savior. With that word Jesus said a mouthful. For Jesus came to do more than open the ears of one afflicted man. Jesus came to open the kingdom of heaven—and to do it for all believers—for sinners who could never make their way to heaven on their own. His Word alone would not be enough to open heaven for you. It would require His very life. The Savior who groaned as He healed one afflicted man, would groan again on a dark Friday afternoon, as He bore the curse of our sinful ears and sinful tongues. Nails and thorns and whips would apply the punishment to which He surrendered as your substitute. On that day He would be covered not only with blood, but with spit—the spit of those who accused Him and mocked Him. But from the cross of Christ on that dark day, one word still rings out: “Ephphatha, be opened.” The blood of Jesus still cries out on your behalf, “Let heaven be opened for every soul redeemed by Christ the crucified.” There at the cross God was reconciling the world to Himself in Christ, not counting your sins against you.

Today Jesus is dealing with you just as He did the deaf and mute man. Here in the Divine Service Jesus takes you aside, leaving the craziness of the world behind. The forgiveness and faith He gives isn’t addressed “to whom it may concern,” but to you personally: “This is my body, given into death for you. This is my blood shed for you.” In the Baptism of Caroline Marcelle just minutes ago we witnessed another of our Lord’s grand openings. In that gentle splash of water, Caroline’s ears were opened to hear of the Savior’ love, her tongue was loosened to sing His praises, her sins were washed away, her little body became a dwelling place of the Holy Spirit, and the gates of heaven were thrown wide open for this dear child of God, redeemed by Christ the crucified.

We haven’t heard the last of this word, “ephphatha.” It echoes on until that glorious day when Christ shall call you from your grave. “Ephphatha,” He shall say again. “Be opened.” And then, miracle of miracles, you and I will be gathered around the throne of God in robes washed white in the blood of the Lamb. And wonder of wonders, we poor sinners will hear Jesus say, “Through the merits of my blood-bought redemption all these precious souls—THEY have done all things well.” And then all of us, from the greatest to the least—those once called dyslexic, and autistic, and deaf and mute—all of them with all of us will join in singing the everlasting song, “Worthy is the Lamb who was slain. For He has indeed done all things well.” Amen.