The Miracles of Jesus: The Mute Can Speak Mark 7:31-37

Well, friends, this morning we continue

in our summer sermon series on the

miracles of Jesus and we're going to

turn to Mark 7 in just a moment.

Uh the Gospel of Mark um really offers

us kind of one miracle story after

another. Kind of rapid-fire, actually.

Uh and in chapter 6, after Jesus has fed

5,000 people and then walked on water,

Mark makes a point of telling us that

these crowds are just following Jesus

and his disciples wherever they go. Um

they are bringing the sick and the

injured on mats and they're laying them

just on the side of the street in the

marketplaces. Like imagine the grocery

store and busy intersections, just

hoping that he'll walk by.

Just hoping that they can reach him.

And it's a total sort of fandom scenario

happening here, but these people, of of

course, are not hoping for an autograph

or a picture. They're hoping for a

recovered body or soul or mind.

Uh in Mark 6:55, it says that wherever

Mark 6:55

Jesus went, the people would beg to just

let them touch his garment.

And that every single person who did was

healed. I mean, it it sounds like just

miracle after miracle after miracle.

It's pretty incredible.

Now, by the time we pick up in Mark

Mark 7 · chapter mention

chapter 7, Jesus has now traveled

outside of the Jewish area, the Galilean

side of the area, and he has gone to the

pagan region of the Decapolis, or 10

towns.

And and Mark is telling us something

here when he tells us the detailed

itinerary of Jesus. He wants us to know

that Jesus has moved from first going to

the Jewish people, his brothers and

sisters in faith, and he has now moved

way outside of that to the margins.

The Gospel is not just good news for his

own tribe, his own family, his own

people. It's good news for Gentiles and

pagans, for outsiders and even enemies.

And so hear the word of the Lord,

friends. Mark 7:31-37.

Mark 7:31–37

Then Jesus left the vicinity of Tyre and

went through Sidon, down to the Sea of

Galilee and into the region of the

Decapolis.

There some people brought to him a man

who was deaf and could hardly talk.

And they begged Jesus to place his hand

on him.

After he took him aside away from the

crowd, Jesus put his fingers into the

man's ears.

And then he spit and touched the man's

tongue.

He looked up to heaven and with a deep

sigh said to him, "Ephphatha."

Which means be opened.

And at this, the man's ears were opened.

His tongue was loosened and he began to

speak plainly.

Jesus commanded them not to tell anyone,

but the more he did so, the more they

kept talking about it.

People were overwhelmed with amazement.

"He has done everything well," they

said. "He even makes the deaf hear and

the mute speak."

This is the word of the Lord. Thanks be

to God.

Well, Mark 7 here presents us with this

deaf and mute man.

Uh I had a deaf classmate and friend

named Noah when I was studying at

Princeton and he and his wife and

daughter daughters were our next door

neighbors for a few years.

And so even though I feel like I learned

quite a bit about deaf culture from Noah

and his family,

I still feel like I can't even begin to

imagine what it might be like to be deaf

in our own day.

And I especially can't begin to imagine

what it might have been like to be deaf

in first century Palestine.

Because in the ancient world, there was

no standardized sign language to learn.

There were no ASL interpreters,

no cell phones or speech-to-text devices

to use.

Uh and paper was incredibly hard to come

by at this time.

And so, the truth is that for millennia,

from all over the world, and honestly

until very, very recently,

deafness has been treated as a severe

deficit,

as a disease, a condition that needs a

cure.

Now, more recently, we do understand

that deafness is not a deficit. It

simply occurs due to a hereditary

recessive gene.

It's really not much different than

being tall, or having blue eyes, or red

hair.

No.

Uh deafness in our own time, thankfully,

is now seen as a unique culture.

Uh with spatial and visual language,

it's one of strength and beauty.

It emphasizes the creativity in our

bodies, our hands, our facial

expressions, our eyes.

But even so,

it's still not easy to be deaf and mute

in a world built for those of us that

can hear,

that can speak.

Have you ever attended a church service

in a language you didn't understand, you

didn't speak?

I've gone to Catholic mass a number of

times in Latin,

and I've worshipped in foreign countries

like Malawi and Kenya, Mexico.

Uh but even if I could, in all of those

instances, sort of recognize the flow of

worship,

each service was still kind of a surreal

experience, right? It's like almost

understanding what's going on but not

quite enough.

It's like being present but not really

fully included.

It's witnessing something unfolding that

was really never intended with me in

mind at all as an English speaker.

I would imagine that that's probably

what it would feel like to rely on a

sign language interpreter in our worship

services.

Might feel sort of like being almost

included.

Partly welcomed.

I've talked about before

how important it is to have access to

the Bible in a language you can

understand and you can read.

I mean it really did change the whole

world when Martin Luther translated

scripture into the common tongue in

German in the 16th century.

I mean what good is sacred text if you

can't understand it? If you can't read

it?

In fact, I mean you might not know this

but one of the missionaries we support

here at First Press with the money that

you give

is to support a woman named Michelle

Peterson who works with Wycliffe Bible

Translators.

She has spent her entire life and career

helping translate scripture into tribal

languages for people that do not have

scripture yet.

It's pretty important work because we

are a species that relies on language

for understanding, for learning, for

belonging, for connection.

I learned something this week in

studying for this sermon that was deeply

disheartening to me about this though.

Did you know it took over 40 years to

have scripture translated into ASL, into

American Sign Language?

And that was only done

in 2020.

Just a few years ago. It's kind of wild,

isn't it?

Man.

Now, it would be a relevant fact, I

think, to mention right about now how

many people actually speak ASL, American

Sign Language. But, I literally can't do

that.

Because on US Census questions, when

they ask what language people speak, ASL

is actually not even an option to

select.

So, we have no idea, really.

Um side note, if you're interested in

learning more about deaf culture in our

own time, a couple years ago Apple

released a movie called CODA,

c o d a, that is phenomenal. It won the

Oscar. It swept the Oscars, actually. Um

but but definitely worth a watch.

So, yes, even though we've made some

progress in our own day,

there is a complicated and painful

history of how deaf people have been

treated over time.

So, we can rely

on the assumption that this man

that comes to Jesus,

he has had a very very rough go of it.

I mean, can you imagine

what it [clears throat] might feel like

to be closed off from everybody around

you in that way?

Watching other people have

conversations.

People laughing and crying, connecting,

and you not really fully knowing what's

going on, and feeling like you're apart.

I mean, I cannot imagine what it would

be like if I couldn't have ever heard

the sound of the ocean.

Or a violin.

I don't know what your favorite

instrument is, but that one's mine.

I can't imagine.

I can't imagine not hearing my husband

say I do at my wedding.

Or my toddler

say mama for the first time.

Can't imagine not

hearing my friends laugh.

Or my son sing.

I really can't

imagine what it would be like to live in

total silence.

Now, to be fair, on the flip side,

maybe there are certain noises or even

certain people that we would prefer not

to hear all the time.

>> [gasps]

>> Maybe like me, you sometimes wish you

had a holy mute button

uh for people in your life.

Maybe people you disagree with, those

you don't understand,

or just those voices that drive you up

the wall.

The truth is, we block people out all

the time, right? We just change the

channel.

Or we walk away, or we dive into our

cell phone or our work.

To some extent, I think we do have to

tune some things out, right?

There is so much background noise in our

world that just never used to exist.

And so you think of like the ticking of

the clock,

the humming of the dishwasher or the

HVAC system,

the traffic noises that we've all become

so accustomed to out there. We've

trained ourselves not to hear these

things.

Scientists, they call this auditory

selective attention. They've studied how

it is we're able to focus and pay

attention on important things in the

midst of so much noise out there, so

much sound.

When I was a teenager, my dad just

called that selective listening.

I was very good at only hearing what I

wanted to hear

>> [laughter]

>> in adolescence.

Maybe still, I don't know.

But the fact is, right, that most of us

are not deaf.

There are plenty things

that block our ability to hear.

Pain and bitterness will do it.

Rushing around, the pace of our life,

the values we have can do it.

Our own sort of past mistakes or

dishonesty can do it.

Oof, old hurts, long time grudges,

that'll do it.

So many things can block our ability to

hear kind of the beautiful and

incredible message of God's kingdom and

God's love in this world.

I sort of think that for most people

walking around,

at best, God's message of love is maybe

background noise for them.

Background noise, it's there, they're

not really paying attention all the

time.

But then I think at worst, there's

plenty of folks that walk around not

hearing the message of God's love at

all.

Or or maybe even having actively muted

it in their life.

I don't know about you,

but I consider this particular miracle

story in Mark to be one of the most

bizarre ones we've looked at this

summer.

Um a deaf and mute man is brought to

Jesus.

We're not even told if he understands

this or wants this.

His friends bring him.

And then we're told Jesus pulls him away

from the crowds and seems to perform

like some kind of wet willy magic trick

that feels like akin to pulling a

quarter out from behind his ears.

Uh

and then he he doesn't say abracadabra,

but he does say something just as odd.

Ephphatha.

Which means be opened.

And miraculously,

this man is healed.

Be opened.

Are those not like the most beautiful

words for a healing?

I love that. Be opened.

In some historic Roman Catholic

traditions, there are a Fata ceremonies

actually that coincide with baptism.

And so candidates will prepare for 40

days for their baptism reading and

studying and praying, and then on the

day of their baptism, the priest will

actually put his fingers in their ear

and touch their tongue. Sort of as a

symbol of opening our spiritual ears.

Loosening our tongues to profess our

faith. And they'll say, "A Fata."

Be opened.

Be opened to the God who unblocks your

ears and opens your mouth.

Be opened.

Openness and healing go hand in hand,

friends.

They do.

Jesus breaks open something in this man.

Of course, he literally unblocks his

ears and opens his mouth. But it's also

safe to say he unblocks his soul.

He opens his heart as well.

And you know, thank God for that kind of

miracle, too.

Because here's the thing. Sometimes the

things we experience in life, especially

those

that are struggles with pain,

shame,

deep hurt,

they can feel like some kind of like

cruel joke that has shoved cotton into

our ears, that has put bitterness in our

mouth,

closing us off to the world around us,

to others.

But thanks be to God, Jesus is still

sticking his fingers in our ears and

saying, "Be opened."

His anointed fingers still burrow into

our closed-off hearts,

saying, "Be opened."

Fingers reaching out to touch our

tongue-tied, stuttering,

often bitter tongue

saying, "Be opened."

Be open to a life where

you're not a victim anymore.

Be open to the possibility that there is

healing available for you, though it

might not look how you expected.

Be open to knowing that your brokenness

doesn't need to be hidden.

Be opened to forgiving yourself finally.

Or

forgiving those who have hurt you the

very most.

Be open to joy and to flourishing and

for permission to grow and change.

Be opened

to a life of discipleship that will

loosen your tongue

to speak

of God's love and healing in your life.

Be open to freedom from all that's held

you captive.

Be opened to God's love transforming

you.

You know, maybe that is what healing

really is.

Maybe it's less about being cured

and it's more about finally being open.

Pastor and author Nadia Bolz-Weber tells

a story about one of her spiritual

heroes

whose name is Joni Eareckson Tada.

Maybe some of you know who she is. Uh

Joni became a quadriplegic as a teenager

and she went on to write a really lovely

memoir about that story and her

relationship with God and how it was

changed and transformed.

Um and having lost, of course, the

ability to use her arms, she eventually

learned to paint by holding her

paintbrush in her teeth.

And she now makes beautiful art.

Now, this might not surprise you, but

Joni, who is often invited to be

interviewed or speak at churches all the

time,

she often encounters well-intentioned

people who offer to pray for her to be

healed of her quadriplegia.

And after years and years of this, I

mean, she's 76 years old now,

uh you might think that she would be

cynical and frustrated by these

well-meaning folks.

But Joni says that she never refuses

prayer when it's offered.

Never.

Instead, this is what she does.

From her wheelchair, she turns to these

folks and she says, "Could you instead

please pray for the times when I cherish

inflated ideas of myself?

Could you pray for the times when I

fudge the truth?

Could you maybe pray for the times when

I manipulate my husband to get things my

own way?

Would you pray for my sinfulness?

Ma'am, if you want to pray for me,

please pray that I receive the power of

the resurrection to put to death the

things in my life that are not of God."

See, Joni is less interested in a cure

and far more interested in being opened

to the healing of God in her soul.

What about us?

What about your own life?

In your own heart, your own

relationships that

have been closed

that desperately need to be opened.

The most famous deaf school in the world

is called Gallaudet University.

It's in Washington, D.C.

And there is nowhere else on earth where

deaf culture is more celebrated,

advocated, and encouraged than at

Gallaudet.

And Gallaudet University has a motto.

A school motto.

And their motto is this.

Ephphatha.

Be opened.

And you know what? They did not choose

this motto because they are a community

of deaf folks hoping for a cure.

No.

They chose it because every single one

of us, hearing and deaf, speaking and

mute, we all desperately need Jesus to

look into our face and into our lives

and into our hearts and to say,

"Ephphatha.

Be open.

Be opened."

And so I close this morning by praying

with the poet with the poet

Malcolm Guite this prayer for us all. If

I could put my hands in your ears, I

would.

No, I wouldn't. That's a lie.

I'll always tell you the truth. I don't

want to touch your ears.

>> [sighs]

>> Uh

but I do want to pray this over all of

us.

Be opened.

Opened.

How you sigh.

And still we do not hear you.

We We missed both cry and crisis.

We make no reply.

Take us aside

for we are deaf and dumb.

Spit on us, Lord, and touch each

tongue-tied tongue.

May you be opened, friends.

May your healing,

wherever it's needed,

begin.

Amen.