Then he returned from the region of Tyre, and went through Sidon to the Sea of Galilee, through the region of the Decapolis. And they brought to him a man who was deaf and had an impediment in his speech; and they besought him to lay his hand upon him. And taking him aside from the multitude privately, he put his fingers into his ears, and he spat and touched his tongue; and looking up to heaven, he sighed, and said to him, "Ephphatha," that is, "Be opened." And his ears were opened, his tongue was released, and he spoke plainly. And he charged them to tell no one; but the more he charged them, the more zealouly they proclaimed it. And they were astonished beyond measure, saying, "He has done all things well; he even makes the deaf hear and the dumb speak." Mark 7:31-37 (RSV)

Some people brought him a man who was deaf and could hardly speak ... Jesus took him off alone ... looked up to heaven, gave a deep groan, and said to the man, "Open up!" ... and he began to talk without any trouble. (TEV)

As churchgoers we talk about the worship service, but the Society of Friends has rightly cautioned us by pointing out that there is the hour of worship and at the conclusion of it, service begins. The lesson is that, in Christian living, worship and service are not merely a one-hour simultaneous exercise on Sunday morning, but service is the outgrowth of worship and worship inspires, defines, and shapes our service. Alexander Maclaren spoke aptly and well on this very matter when he said: "In our work, what we do depends largely on what we are, and what we are depends upon what we receive, and what we receive depends upon the depth and constancy of our communion with God."

Our text brings us the story of one of Jesus' early miracles. His fame was spreading and we read of crowds of both curious and needy folk pressing in upon him so much that he was not able to be alone for a moment with his disciples or himself. Mark comments, "He could not be hid." (v. 24) On this particular day, on an excursion on foot from Tyre and Sidon towards the Sea of Galilee, he was stopped by a small unidentified group who brought to him a deaf-mute, a man who couldn't hear and who had an impediment in his speech. They begged Jesus to "lay his hand on him." Jesus took him aside, apart from the crowd, "put his fingers in the man's ears, spat, and touched the man's tongue. Then he looked up to heaven, gave a deep groan, and said to the man, 'Open up!' At once the man's ears were opened, his tongue was set loose, and he began to talk without any trouble." (TEV)

This is the story. But in many similar cases in Jesus' ministry, usually a controversy preceded or followed the incident. Here, however, we have a simple account of a healing miracle that evoked no pros and cons, that seemed to have a routine character about it, except that the people "were astonished beyond measure." (v. 37)

Whatever may have been Mark's purpose in telling or preserving the story, one thing must be made and kept clear: this is not primarily a picture of a deaf-mute being cured; it is basically an insight into the person of Jesus. The man tells us nothing, but Jesus conveys lessons to us by what he shows us of himself. And one of the most effective pieces of instruction here is how Christian conduct works. Suppose then we examine Jesus at work.

1. "Looking up to heaven." (v. 34) This phrase tells us one thing in particular: Jesus was able to do what he did because he was a channel through which God's power was brought to bear upon a human situation. Living communion with God was the dynamic beneath the exceptional abilities people saw in his daily conduct. Preceding and within every crisis, it was this constant personal relationship to God that fortified him, and the necessity always to nourish it was among the strongest precepts he gave to his disciples.

For us, Peter T. Forsyth put the matter thoughtfully when he wrote, "Unless there is within us that which is above us, we shall soon yield to that which is around us." Yet, even among church people, this injunction is painfully neglected. We live in an era of feverish activity. Quiet fellowship with God is not eagerly sought nor easy to come by. Solitary hours and inward meditation are no longer admirable habits. We are so busy thinking, discussing, and inquiring about things secular that our timetables allow little space for us to be still. Jesus would tell us today that our souls are starved and he would invite us to "come aside and rest awhile." We have inherited all the perils of having lost vital contact with him who is able to give to our lives that extra his risen spirit makes possible for him to share. Without realizing it, our Christian disposition has lost control of our conduct, our conscience has become dulled, our sensitivities blunted, and, like Paul, we cry, "For I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I do." (Romans 7:19) Jesus, "looking up to heaven," in the face of one of life's great demands helps us, as Samuel Miller remarked, "to find the point again."

2. "He gave a deep groan." How alien this seems to Jesus' conduct! Almost invariably we note Jesus' attitude and bearing to be filled with joy, exhilaration, and tones of victory. However certain and true this is, by his very nature, Jesus could actually groan. The dictionary defines "groan" as a noise indicating great inner strain. Jesus' heart was a well-spring of sympathy - his tears at the grave of Lazarus; his weeping over Jerusalem as the Passover drew near. His humanness: "wearied (he) sat down beside the well" (John 4:6); "he was in the stern (of the ship), asleep on the cushion." (Mark 4:38) In this way, he was one with us; but more: his groan meant he felt the heavy burden of human need. Just one deaf-mute before him, but, as Alexander Maclaren wrote: "The whole weltering sea of sorrow that moans around the world of which here (this man) is just one drop." This the scribes and Pharisees, with all their splitting of legal and theological hairs, could not see nor feel. But Jesus' lifestyle indicated that, in order to heal, one must stoop to the level of those to be healed. As someone said, "We must lower in order to lift." We do no good to cases that see us shrink from them. (Father Damien, on the leper-infested island of Molokai, found he had to become a leper himself in order to be their helper and friend.)

To live out the Christian life sincerely and to its fullest, only a groan will indicate the depth of our concern for struggling and needy humanity. It is easy to write a check, send a care box, or dole out welfare packages like bones to a dog. Can we blame such recipients if they spurn us or become irritated? Our conduct must be shaped by one who said, "Learn from me; for I am gentle and lowly in heart ..." (Matthew 11:29) In that spirit he consorted with publicans and sinners and, as Paul, his follower, said, "I have become all things to all men, that I might by all means save some." (1 Corinthians 9:22)

3. And Jesus "said to him, 'Open up!' " What was so wonderful about Jesus was his realism and activism: realism in that he faced up to the facts; and activism - he carried through in order to finish the job. His gazing into heaven and his inner groaning must have created an emotional wave among the people and, by their very human nature, they must have been asking within themselves, "What now?" Is anything going to come out of all this? Jesus knew the danger of exciting people and then letting them down anticlimactically. He refused to work on the mind and heart and exclude the will. He said to the deaf-mute, "Open up!" To quote Maclaren again, "The surest way to petrify the heart is to stimulate the feelings and then give them nothing to do." This is the story of much of the emotional religion abroad in America today. Emotional religion divorced from action results in sentimentalism, insincerity, self-adulation, and hypocrisy. Equally perilous is the desire to be liked or popular, because it tends to compromise the Gospel, to make religion comfortable, and to cater to human wishes rather than people's needs. Jesus, on the other hand, held to his own basic need: a constant link with the unseen; to deaf-mute humankind, the need to know we, as Christians, are with them in their struggle; and, for the helpless world, their need to see how God and his chosen Son share power that turns defeat into victory.