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Mika Aspinen, Kirkon koulutuskeskus

(toinen versio 9.6.2015 varten)

Effata — Be Opened!

I love the Bible, because I find there so many signs of hope.

But sometimes I feel desperate because those signs seem ambiguous, or simply wrong, or outdated. The Bible is definitely not an easy collection of texts. It has both a liberating power and an oppressive power, and both of them have been used over and over again in human history.

In the Gospel of Mark, chapter 7, Jesus meets a deaf man. Actually, this is the only narrative in the entire Bible where a deaf individual appears. This makes it a real challenge: a fascinating narrative, but it has both a liberating and an oppressive potential.

Jesus heals a deaf man. He turns him into a hearing person. This was then a sign of blessing – but today, it might be offensive.

*

Let’s now read this text – first the whole episode, then bit by bit, paying attention to the different small parts which build up this narrative.

→ <diat: The text Mark 7:31–37

→ <dia: Ephphatha in Mark’s Context

<dian jälkeen.>Now we’ll take a closer look at the two parallel stories: Jesus and the deaf man in Mark 7, and in parallel, Jesus and the blind man in Mark 8.

Mark 7:31 “Then he returned from the region of Tyre, and went by way of Sidon towards the Sea of Galilee, in the region of the Decapolis.”

<diassa tulee ensin oikea palsta: Mark 8:22 “They came to Bethsaida.”>

Mark 8, the healing of the blind man, begins with the so-called itinerary: the narrator mentions the location: “They came to Bethsaida.”

dianvasen palsta Mark 7:31

This is how the story with the deaf man beginsas well, in Mark 7. We have here one of those several filmshots where the Gospel writers present us a busy Jesus, traveling around. We need not bother us too much with the geographical details, especially because they seem to be a bit out or order here. The journey portrayed is quite roundabout: first north to Sidon, then east and south, and finally west to the Sea of Galilee.

diassa suurennus“Tyre and Sidon”>

What is interesting in this geography is that Jesus has just been “abroad”: Tyre and Sidon are “pagan”, or Gentile, areas, which in the biblical world means an area inhabited mainly by non-Jews. Immediately before the Ephphatha text, Jesus has expanded his sphere of influence to the extreme north, outside the Jewish area of Galilee where the majority of events take place in the Gospels before it is time to start the journey towards Jerusalem. Jesus has just met a pagan woman in the region of Tyre (Mark 7:24–30), and this episode deserves to be presented as a background for our Ephphatha text as well., and we will come back to that episode later on.

Jesus has made a journey in which he crosses several borders: first of all the physical borders, into another region; second, the cultural and religious borders, into an environment where his own people, the Jews, are a minority. And there is a third aspect: At this point, Jesus crosses the borders of his own identity. Who am I, and to whom has God sent me, he needs to ask himself. Until now, he has focused his mission mainly to his own people. But the woman in the region of Tyre is not one of them. And still, she needs help, and she is persistent.

Jesus hesitates, as Gospel readers we learn something new about him. Unattendedly harsh, he replies to the woman: “Let the children be fed first, for it is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.” The symbolic dimension is clear: the “children” are the Jews, they receive their due portion from their God. All other people are pagans, which are here labeled as “dogs.” The border between the two groups seems to be quite closed.

But the woman does not give up. Nor does she remain silent. She is definitely not lost of words: “Sir, even the dogs under the table eat the children’s crumbs.” Instead of giving up or, she accepts the insulting metapher of a dog: OK, I’m a dog, if you want to express it that way. But in that case it means that even dogs do have certain rights, and that’s something nobody is going to take away from me.

<diassa puhekupla: “There, abroad, a foreign woman opens Jesus’ eyes (Mark 7:24—30)→ Ephphatha!>

This anonymous woman becomes an example of a person who resists oppression, who wants to be treated s a human being. She opens Jesus’ eyes, and that is certainly something radical. Jesus, who has originally focused only in his own people, now becomes aware that his mission extends beyond any human boundaries. The pagan woman, an outsider, opens Jesus’ eyes—as if she said to Jesus: “Ephphatha! Be opened!”

Now, after the episode with the strong woman,Jesus is returning to a primarily Jewish region. But, on the narrative level, he has become another man, with a wider perspective. He, who is entitled the Son of God since the very first chapter of the Gospel, has received an “Ephphatha experience”, and he is now ready to give this experience to someone else.

Mark 7:32a “They brought to him a deaf man who had an impediment in his speech;

<diassa tulee ensin oikea palsta: Mark 8:22 “They brought to him a blind man ….”

Those Who Brought Him to Jesus

<diassa suurennus “They brought to him…”>

Who are “they”?

The blind man (Mk 8) is not alone. The deaf man is not alone. They have companions—relatives or friends—who accompany them.

They remain anonymous. We do not know their names, not even how many they are, but we know that they exist in the world of this story, and they play an essential role.

They are given only an indirect voice. We know what they want, but do not know what exactly they say.We do not know their words but we know their deeds. They bring their friend to Jesus.

Interestingly, the deaf man here is also accompanied by his friends, even if he actually has less obstacles to overcome. He can see where to go—he is not blind. He is perfectly able to walk—he is not paralyzed. Still, he is “brought” to Jesus by someone else.

Angels are defined in the Bible as messengers of God, and thus these anonymous friends of the impeded persons are angels for them: they make God’s reality accessible for their disabled friend. In the ancient culture, the deaf man could not have received alone the word of God, proclaimed orally by Jesus. His friends become translators of this word. They make a visual and tactile translation of the word of God in three ways:

1)first, when they take the deaf man by hand,

2)second, when they bring him to Jesus,

3)and third, when they explain Jesus the background of the situation and the need that the deaf man has but that he could not have expressed alone in a way that a hearing person would understand.

Whom Can We Compare Deaf People?

Comparisons are sometimes useful, often they help us see something new, or something old from a new perspective.

But comparisons are also dangerous: Depending on what you compare, you might be fair or rather unfair. By comparing two items with each other, you can highlight some properties of these things you compare, and you can exaggerate some properties. You can even pervert the image, so that the very thing starts to look quite strange—like a physical object in a different light. In short, you use power when you compare anything—whether you know it or not.

Jesus often compared the kingdom of God with everyday phenomena. In quite a few cases, the story even starts with a rhetorical question: “To what may we comparethe kingdom of God? What is it like?”

<diassa puhekupla: “Being deaf is like…?”

My question today is: “To what may we comparedeafness? What is it like?” Or: To what is it comparable? Which comparisons are adequate and helpful, which comparisons are outdated, based on misunderstandings or prejudices, or simply offensive, an insult?

And for me, this is genuinely an open question, not just a rhetorical one.

In a way, every comparison is an insult, because it simplifies the reality. No two things are ever completely similar. (Like in a language, hardly any two words are exactly synonymous.)

Is Deafness a Disability?

<dian puhekuplaan: “A Disability”>

Deafness has often been compared with different handicaps. And this is how it looks like if we read the biblical texts. We first need to understand how profoundly different the ancient world was, before we can ask what the text could mean for us today. In the biblical narrative world, being deaf is like being blind, or paralyzed, or even like being possessed by demons, because in ancient cultures illnesses, handicaps and other deviations from the norm were seen as caused by the evil forces, demons or the like. Seen from this position, deafness looks like a handicap, or a disability. And this interpretation has been a dominant thought for centuries.

<dian puhekuplaan: “But whose Disability?”>

Before we attempt to give an answer, we need to sharpen the question. Our crucial question today could be: If deafness is a disability, whose disability is it? Is it the deaf person who is disabled — or is the entire society disabled insofar as it fails to include some of its members?[1]

Deaf and Mute?

<dian puhekuplaan: “Deaf-mute”?>

The Gospel of Mark (or its source) compares “deaf” with “mute”:in some older translations of the Bible, the man is “deaf-mute”. Here I deliberately want to underline this word, which is obsolete today and no longer adequate, because historically the word “deaf-mute” “is an apt description of the way in which a deaf person was perceived”[2] in the ancient world.Any person who was deaf was also regarded as mute—which meant: not able to speak orally; which in turn meant: without language, in the period prior to the invention of any sign language.

The Greek text uses two adjectives to describe the man: κωφός(kofos) and μογιλάλος (mogilalos). “The adjective κωφός (kofos) can signify the lack of the capacity for speech (“mute”), the lack of the capacity for hearing (“deaf”), or both.”[3]It can also mean “hard of hearing.”“The adjective μογιλάλος (mogilalos) can signify either the ability to speak only with difficulty (“impeded in speech”) or the inability to articulate (“mute”). The meaning “impeded in speech” is supported by the description of the cure in v. 35, “he began to speak correctly” (ἐλάλει ὀρθῶς). The implication is that he could speak beforehand, but not correctly.”[4] In the long period of oralism, which has lasted almost to our days, all deaf people where compelled to speak at least a little, because that was more or less considered a necessity.

<dian puhekuplaan: “But Deaf is not Mute!”>

But today we know that deaf is not “mute”, insofar as the word “mute” carries within it the idea of someone being “unable to communicate”. The Sign Language is a full and complete language. “It is a language with a richness of expression comparable to any spoken language.”[5] As long as we who are hearing persons do not know the Sign Language, it is we who are “deaf and mute”, not the Deaf people.

Deaf and Dumb?

<dian puhekuplaan: “Deaf and dumb”?>

And, what is quite insulting from our modern perspective, the same adjective κωφός (kofos) which means “deaf” also has the general meaning of “blunt” or “dull”.In the ancient cultures“hearing” symbolically also means “understanding” or “obeying” (like in the expressions “hear the word of God” etc.). Consequently, “not hearing” equated “not understanding,” or “not obeying”. To put it very blatantly: if you did not “hear”, you were considered either stupid or stubborn.In English, there is an archaic, outdated technical term “deaf and dumb” which is nowadays considered offensive.

<dian puhekuplaan: “Insulting!”>

Previouslythe word “dumb” also hadthe meaning “mute”. But: “Given the long history of deafness, and the fact that Deaf people have been incorrectly assumed to be mentally deficient just because they do not speak, you can imagine that most Deaf people do not appreciate being called ‘Deaf and Dumb’.”[6] Luckily enough, this expression “Deaf and dumb”does not even exist in many other languages.

This usage, of course, tells us about our human prejudices in general: those who cannot communicate like ourselves, those who do not speak the language as we do, are “outsiders”, or “others”.At worst, we even doubt their intelligence, although the fundamental problem is not that “they” communicate in a different way but that we cannot understand their way of communication. It is worth noting that the same prejudices are seen in the ways foreign languages (and cultures) are described: in ancient Greek, for instance, those who do not speak “our” language are called “barbarians” (βάρβαροι)[7]: “If then I do not know the meaning of a sound, I will be a foreigner (barbaros) to the speaker and the speaker a foreigner (barbaros) to me.” (1 Cor 14:11). In modern languages, the words derived from the Greek barbaros generally have a very negative flavour. As human beings we tend to be afraid of those who communicate in another way. Even today, some people who are not acquainted with people speaking other languages than one’s own, might simply speak out louder and repeat the same over and over again, as if they hoped that the foreigner would then at last grasp what it is all about. Think, for instance, about the asylum seekers who struggle with the common language of the majority. As long as they do not speak “correctly” from the majority’s point of view, they risk discrimination and marginalization.

And this was exactly the sore point for the disabled person in the Biblical times: discrimination and marginalization.

The blind man in Mark 8 was (partly) cut off from perceiving the world. He was in the margin.

The deaf man in Mark 7 was (nearly entirely) cut off from communicating with the rest of the world.He was in the margin.

<dian puhekuplaan: “Invalid? Impure? A sinner?”>

And not only that: Those who were regarded as handicapped were “in-valid” in the very basic meaning of the word: They were regarded as “not valid” for normal life. Theywere regarded as impure and outcast, sinners. They might “pollute” anyone who touches them. That’s why it is so radical that Jesus really comes close to them — we will shortly come back to this theme.

<dian puhekuplaan: “No! Cf. John 9:2–3”>

Jesus turns the entire category upside down: He has come to proclaim that the kingdom of God is open to all people, and especially to all those who are being marginalized by others. In the Gospel of John, chapter 9, we read:

1 As he walked along, he saw a man blind from birth. 2His disciples asked him, “Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?”

This was a very natural question in those days. Being blind, or being deaf, or being paralyzed, was regarded as a divine punishment for sins.

3Jesus answered, “Neither this man nor his parents sinned; he was born blind so that God’s works might be revealed in him. 4We must work the works of him who sent me while it is day; night is coming when no one can work. 5As long as I am in the world, I am the light of the world.” (John 9:1–5).

This text still does not remove all our critical questions. In the biblical texts, the healing seems to mean that the blind starts to see and the deaf starts to hear. But the first step towards openness is taken: Being blind or deaf is definitely not a result from any individual’s personal sins.

Deaf – What Kind of Minority?

The critical question remainds: Is deafness a handicap? Is it something that needs to be “healed”—and if so, what does this healing mean?

There are other ways of comparing.

Being deaf is like……any minority?

Like left-handed?

Deaf people might be seen not as impaired people but as a minority group— and what could it then be compared with? Like left-handed? Or red-headed? Or homosexual? This comparison may seem odd, or utterly trivial, but in fact it is not. In history, all these groups of people— left-handed, red-headed, and homosexual — have encountered prejudices, obstacles, and exclusion. Someone who was left-handed was taught to behave like a right-handed. A red-headed woman was sometimes regarded as a witch. And homosexuals — needless to say anything further.

For all these people, “healing” very often implied the wish that they should change, “become like normal people”. Nowadays, this demand is overtly absurd for red-headedness. It is absurd to demand that left-handed should change, or that it heaven they would at last be right-handed… Still, the coin has it darker side: there are still everyday situations which are more difficult for left-handed people in this right-handedly dominated world. For homosexuals, the battle is still going on. They are receiving their due rights, bit by bit and uneuqally in different countries, but the idea of wanting to “heal” them so that they would turn into heterosexuals is still prevalent. What about the deaf people? Does “healing” mean that they would turn into hearing people? Or is this idea as insulting as wanting to eradicate sexual minorities by turning all of them into heterosexuals?