Be Opened!

In Nomine Iesu
St. Mark 7:31-37
September 9, 2018
Proper 18B

Dear Saints of Our Savior~

The miraculous healing 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 dementia, 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 did you catch how the deaf man with a speech impediment came to be in the presence of Jesus? 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 scene for the six o’clock news or generate selfies for social media. 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 your ears are closed and your speech is garbled you can never be quite sure what’s going on. But that man at that moment knew that he mattered—knew that he was loved—knew that he was precious—to Jesus.

And what do you think of the Savior’s medical methods? Jesus put His fingers into the man’s ears. Then he spits and touches the man’s tongue. How would you like it if your physician did that to you? Spit that belongs to somebody else is generally regarded these days as gross—a bio-hazard. It always makes me feel kind of bad when I go to get my teeth cleaned and the hygienist walks into the room wearing a hazmat suit. I try not to take it personally. It’s not just me, right? But all those precautions are taken, essentially, 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 disabled 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 essentially saying, “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 by sin and death.”

Perhaps it was the thought of sin and death that caused Jesus to sigh. Literally, He “groaned.” Why would Jesus groan as He restored this man’s hearing and speech? St. Mark doesn’t tell us why. 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,” “Be opened!” Did the deaf man hear this word? Were these the first syllables 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? Who knows? What matters is that the Word of Jesus gets results. The Word of Jesus gets results in human ears and human hearts—even in ears that don’t hear and even in hearts that are hard and scarred by sin. That word, “ephphatha,” shows that Jesus can open whatever is closed, free whatever is bound, resurrect what is lifeless, dead and hopeless.

The people in that place were astonished 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 God back in Genesis chapter one as He surveyed all that He had created, and called it “very good.” It was 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 for joy. Jesus has indeed done all things exceptionally well. His work is “very good,” beautiful and wonderful.

“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 the spit of those who 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 deals with you as He did the deaf and mute man. Here in the Divine Service Jesus takes you aside from the crowd. The forgiveness and faith He gives isn’t addressed “to whom it may concern,” but to you personally: “This is my body, given for you. This is my blood shed for you.” In Holy Baptism our Lord continues to carry out His grand openings. In that sacred splash, your ears were opened to hear of the Savior’ love, your tongue was loosened to sing His praises, your sins were washed away, your body became a temple of the Holy Spirit, and the gates of heaven were thrown wide open for you—as one 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. “Be opened,” He shall say again. 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 declare that WE have done all things well—through faith in His perfect life and His blood-bought redemption. 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.” He has indeed done all things well.

In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.