Twenty-Third Sunday in Ordinary Time
“Be opened!” Mk. 7:34
Anthony de Mello, a famous Indian Jesuit, used to tell the story about “disciples gathered around their master, asking him endless questions about God. And the master would respond by insisting that anything we say about God is just words, because God is unknowable. One time, however, a disciple asked, ‘Then why do you speak of him at all?’ And the master replied, ‘Why does the bird sing? She sings not because she has a statement, but because she has a song.’”
For many of us, the problem is we’ve become incapable of hearing that song.
Like the deaf man with the speech impediment in today’s gospel, you and I often find ourselves in a place where we have intentionally, or unintentionally, blocked out the wondrous “song” that Isaiah beautifully sings in today’s first reading:
“Then the eyes of the blind shall be opened, and the ears of the deaf unstopped; then the lame shall leap like a deer, and the tongue of the speechless sing for joy.”
Or, maybe you and I have become so assaulted by the increasing background noise created by the world’s widespread and endless hostilities, the deafening cries of people suffering horrible abuses, the moans and groans of so millions living in pain and heartaches of one kind or another … maybe we’ve simply learned how to stop listening, how to block it all out.
Nearly everywhere you look anymore, you see people with headphones in their ears, drowning out their friends, their families, their neighbors, the rest of the world. More and more these days, the sounds we hear are only those we – you and I – intentionally select.
On a spiritual level, the consequence may be that we can no longer hear the voice of Jesus whispering in our ears. We can’t hear any guidance, any wisdom, any encouragement that we may need. And when we can’t hear God speaking to us, we ourselves cannot speak of God.
Maybe we’re drowning out the commands of Jesus disarming the powers of evil, like in today’s gospel. Maybe we’re tuning out the stirrings of the reign of God coming into the world, as all three of today’s readings passionately describe.
We may even have become so deaf that we can no longer even hear the life-giving testimony of others who have seen God at work in astounding ways.
Like the man in today’s gospel, we need Jesus to pull each of us aside, stick his finger in our ears, spit, touch our tongues, look up to heaven and sigh, speak in some ancient language – whatever it takes to remove the blockage, to open the passageway, so that we who have grown deaf can hear again.
Then we need to give Jesus permission to shout as loud as he can:
“Be opened!” – just as he did with the man in today’s gospel.
“Be opened” so that we can hear St. Paul encourage us to live together in a new way, a way in which we “show no partiality.”
“Be opened” so that we can hear again what things are possible for those who believe – things like compassion and reconciliation and solidarity and reckless generosity.
To paraphrase a 19th century Quaker hymn, “When Jesus opens our ears, we will hear the clear, though far-off song that hails a new creation…. How can I keep from singing?”
How can I?
I can keep from singing if I don’t hear … if I don’t listen … if I shut out the many sounds of Jesus’ message of release, renewal, and new life.
The shout that Jesus gave the deaf man is one we need to ask for in our own life of prayer:
“Be opened!”
Then we will hear again the song that has resonated through the ages – the song of Isaiah, the song of St. Paul, the song of the Good News of great joy embodied in Jesus himself – the song of freedom and peace and justice for all of God’s creation.
“Be opened!”
Ted Wolgamot, Psy.D.
