They brought a deaf-mute to Jesus. He was a prisoner of silence, living without words, lullabies, or music, but he had a circle of friends who cared for him and looked for things that made him better; they led him to Jesus. Healing begins when someone puts his hand to the very human art of empathy and compassion.
They begged Jesus to lay his hand on him, but Jesus did more than that; he wanted to show God’s surplus and nearness: silently, he took him aside, away from the crowd, “You and I alone, and for this time, nothing is more important than you.” I imagine them eye to eye as Jesus starts to hold that face in his hands.
Very bodily and caring gestures follow: Jesus touched the deaf man’s ears. Like the sculptor, his fingers gently shaped the clay as if caressing a newborn. There were no words, only the tenderness of gestures.
Then, with saliva, he touched his tongue. He bestowed upon him a part of himself: New birth with his breath and speech, renewed being regenerated in Christ.
After breathing deeply, he uttered, “Effatha,” in Aramaic, the man’s dialect he couldn’t hear but felt through his mother’s arms. Open yourself as one opens a door to the guest, and welcome God. Now, life flows out and comes in.
The divine tenderness expressed by the Lord Jesus reshaped creation in him; God’s promise is for everyone, hearing and speech augmented by a Godly new heart.