In “Ali Baba and the
Forty Thieves,” Ali Baba stumbles across a band of thieves as they prepare to
unload their stolen treasure in a hidden cave.
The captain of the thieves approaches a rock wall and utters these
strange words, “Open Sesame!” And
immediately, a wide doorway appears in the face of the rock.[1] Secret words open the entrance to that cave
in “Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves.” But
in today’s Gospel there’s no secret at all.
Jesus shows us plain and simple that our healing rests in him and our
willingness to “Be Opened!”
In our Gospel passage
Jesus opens the ears and loosens the tongue of a man suffering from deafness
and a speech impediment. Now, in the
Gospels we usually find Jesus’ healing miracles being accomplished through
words. But this miracle is different. It’s very
physical. “As God incarnate, [Jesus]
shows [God’s] love in an incarnational way – physically, through intimacy and
touch, through sound and spoken word.”[2] With your indulgence, I’d like to talk about
each of these elements.
First, Jesus puts his
fingers in the man’s ears. Now, as you
might imagine, the Meyer family often engages in deep theological discussions
at the dinner table. Well, when I
mentioned to my daughters that I was preaching on this Gospel passage, we pondered
together whether this is the first recorded instance of a Wet Willy. Father Robert Baron, however, has a much more
lofty explanation. He tells us that by
inserting his fingers in the man’s ears, Jesus establishes, so to speak, “an
electric current running from the Father, through the Son, into the suffering
man.”[3] This is exactly what Jesus came to do for us. Jesus is the conduit between heaven and
earth, humanity and divinity. Jesus
plugs us into God, his boundless grace and his healing power.
Next, Jesus spits and
touches the man’s tongue. OK, so it
sounds pretty gross to us, but to the people of the first century – Gentiles
and Jews alike – it was a powerful gesture.
Spittle was understood to have healing properties:[4] you’ll recall that Jesus healed the man born
blind by mixing his spit with dirt and applying the mud to the man’s eyes. (John 9:6)
In fact, Jesus’ contemporaries would have understood this act as an
intimate, loving gesture – perhaps somewhat like a mother who dabs a little of
her spit on a tissue to clean her child’s face.
By this act, Jesus is crossing boundaries to establish an intimate
relationship with the suffering man.
Jesus next looks up to
the heavens. Looking heavenward is a
sign of prayer. Jesus knows that “the
heavens are permanently opened; God is available; the Holy Spirit is always
descending with love.”[5] But he also knows that we need everything
that heaven has to offer. So he opens
himself to the divine loving presence – and he does that with a sigh.
Now in our Gospel, we
hear that Jesus “groaned.” The difference
in wording is a matter of translation of the word estanaxen in the original Greek text. Estanaxen
means to sigh deeply or to groan. So
what’s Jesus doing here? He’s letting
go. He’s emptying himself so that he can
be united with the man’s anguish and thereby the perfect conduit of God’s
healing love.
Then, finally, Jesus
speaks. He says, Ephphatha (Be Opened)!
Throughout history we find incantations, spells, healings and exorcisms
that rely on foreign words or gibberish to elicit magical powers – words like
Abracadabra, Presto Changeo, or even Open Sesame. But that’s not what’s happening here. Ephphatha
may sound strange to us, but Mark is quoting Jesus in the language he spoke on
the streets – Aramaic. Anyone around
would know exactly what Jesus said and what he meant. And Mark makes sure that his audience understands by giving a translation: “Be Opened!”
Crystal clear, this word “serves
as a word of power that frees the man from his infirmity rather than as a
mysterious incantation.”[6] There are no magic words. “Be Opened” is not addressed to the
ears. It is a command to the heart to be
open to the love of God that it is experiencing by being united to Jesus.”[7]
Now, in my view a Gospel
that portrays a very physical healing deserves a very physical response. So let’s do what Jesus did (we’ll skip
sticking our fingers in each other’s ears and mouths, though). If you’re able to do so comfortably, please
stand for a moment. Together, let’s look
to the heavens, sigh and say, “Ephphatha!”
That feels pretty good, doesn’t it?
You might even say – it’s healing.
You may be seated for the remaining 40 minutes of my homily. How about trying that as a spiritual exercise
at the beginning of each day? If we
allow ourselves to be opened by God, our ears will be unplugged, our tongues
will be loosened, and we will experience the Kingdom of God right here on
earth.
Readings: Isaiah 35: 4-7; James 2:1-5; Mark 7:31-37
[1]
“Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves,” Arabian
Nights (Norwalk, Easton Press, 1981) at 150.
[2]
Lectionary Guide, at 218.
[3]
Robert Baron, Word on Fire (New York,
The Crossroad Publishing Company, 2008) at 221.
[4]
John R. Donahue, S.J., Daniel Harrington, S.J., Sacra Pagina: The Gospel of Mark
(Collegeville, Liturgical Press, 2002) at 240.
[5]
John Shea, Eating with the
Bridegroom: The Spiritual Wisdom of the
Gospels for Christian Preachers and Teachers, Mark Year B (Collegeville,
Liturgical Press, 2005) at 222.
[6] Sacra Pagina, at 240.
[7] Eating with the Bridegroom, at 222.
[8] Arabian Nights, at 152.
[9]
Father Paul J. Fasano
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