A certain lesser known country music song suggests we can
learn to listen for the sound of the breeze dying down and,
even better, for the sound of the sun going down. In hectic
Northern Virginia, the conditions for such listening can seem
scarce. Still, the refinement within ourselves of an
attentive listening spirit can at once help our prayer,
balance our lives and keep us in tune with reality.
An ongoing friendship with God will necessarily involve
learning to recognize the way God speaks to us. (Hint: Most
likely we won't hear voices). A fruitful way to test our
listening skills could be to reflect on how our lives and
prayer would be if we could not hear at all. Might the plight
of the deaf man help us to navigate the noise this world
offers?
In the Letter to the Romans (Rom 10:16-17), St. Paul writes
that "faith comes from what is heard." Consider the man in
Sunday's Gospel who has the healing encounter with Jesus. The
text does not say if he had always been deaf. If so, he would
have had to guess what sound sounds like. He would have been
experiencing without sound the actions of the people around
him who were bringing him to Jesus. In the best scenario he
might have had friends close to him who were able to convey
to him something about the man Jesus - about the great
miracles he was accomplishing and His powerful teachings. The
deaf man was accustomed to living without hearing sounds but,
in his way, he could still hear - and listen.
It seems evident that he was not resistant to the faith of
the people around him. Understanding that this Teacher, this
Rabbi, this man Jesus might heal his hearing, the deaf man
finds himself on the verge of a new kind of life. What was he
thinking? Perhaps he was wondering what the experience of
sound is like. Could he even imagine what he had been
missing? What sound would he hear first if this Healer heals
him? Will it work? Please, please let it work. Make me whole.
Let me hear what they hear.
Face to face with Jesus, the man, with attentive and keen
vision and well-developed perception, notices everything. He
will cooperate. He will do what is asked of him. Jesus does
something very interesting that merits reflection: He leads
the man "by himself away from the crowd." Why does Jesus do
this? It seems more than coincidental that the preference of
Jesus for keeping the miracle quiet and on the "down-low"
would make the man's first experience of sound an experience
free from noise. How gracious is the Lord Jesus. How
attentive to the needs of this suffering child of His. The
account of the miracle records only one word spoken by Jesus
to the deaf man: "Ephphatha!" ("Be opened!"). With that one
word, having put His fingers in the man's ears, Jesus gives
the man the experience of sound.
It seems likely (although we don't know for sure) that Jesus
would have spoken more words to the healed man. But even if
He didn't it is beautiful to imagine that the man's first
experience of the world of sound, away from the noise of the
crowd, was peaceful. His first moment in the world of sounds
was not a startling one. Jesus took him far enough away from
the crowd to keep his new experience in accord with his
previous experience. The voice of Jesus or the sound of the
breeze (maybe a bird singing?) would be harmonious with his
new gift. In any case, it is likely that the man's
appreciation for sound was all the more keen because it was
something he had never taken for granted.
When we pray, we need not seek or expect to hear voices. We
should, however, allow our constant approach to Jesus to be
one that allows Him to take us away from the noise, even if
it is still noisy all around us. The gracious God will remove
us from the noise and help us to listen. He will teach us to
be attentive to His presence and His ways.
Fr. Zuberbueler is pastor of St. Louis Church in Alexandria.