Repository of Sermons / Calendar of Events / Activities

Fourteenth Sunday after Pentecost
September 10, 2006 Sermon by The Rev. Bill Van Oss, Rector
Readings       

“You’re stupid; you’ll never amount to anything; I hate you.”

“You can do it; I believe in you; I love you no matter what; I’ll always love you; I forgive you.”

Words. Words are powerful. You might have felt some of the words I just said. Some might have stung you and reminded you of painful moments in the past.

Others might have touched you, and made you remember times of great joy – words can harm, words can heal.

That was just a simple exercise, starting off with those words, a simple exercise to point out that words are powerful.

Jesus uses a powerful word in today’s Gospel:

“Ephphatha” – ef’ – uh – tha.

“Ephphatha” – a word so powerful it was preserved in the orginal Aramaic.

The Gospel writer translates it as “be opened,” but there is a better, and more accurate, translation – “Be Released.”

Ephphatha is about release. It’s about freedom.

It’s interesting that Jesus used the word ephphatha. Why didn’t Jesus simply say “speak” and “hear” to the deaf man with the speech impediment? That’s what the man needed, right? Perhaps not. Because Jesus had the ability to see deeply inside a person. Jesus could see beyond the surface issues of deafness and lack of speech.

Jesus looked inside the man to see that what he really desired was freedom. For the man would have been stigmatized. At the time of Jesus, disability and disease were seen as punishments for sin. God must be punishing this man for something he or someone in his family did.

And so, he would have been outcast and criticized, and perhaps the man even believed it himself, thinking, “this is all my fault.”

And so, Jesus knows he needs to be set free and restored to community and family and relationship with God.

Jesus released him. Jesus set him free. Imagine what that would have felt like – having been a prisoner, the man was set free.

One of my all-time favorite movies is the Shawshank Redemption. It’s an old movie now – 1994 – but it’s still great. It’s the story of a man named Andy Dufresne who’s wrongly convicted of murdering his wife and sentenced to life in prison at Shawshank. Imagine being wrongly accused and sentenced to life – it happens.

The by-line of the movie is: “Fear can hold you prisoner. Hope can set you free,” and that’s Andy’s attitude as he slowly digs a hole in the wall of his cell with a rock hammer. Small handfuls of concrete and rock at a time – he puts that material in his pockets and cleverly empties them in the prison yard each morning. One pocketful of broken concrete at a time, he digs a hole in the prison wall, covering his progress up with a poster of Rachel Welch. Eventually the hold is big enough for him to crawl through and break into a sewer pipe to crawl out of the prison.

And, in one of the greatest resurrection scenes in movie history, Andy Dufresne plunges from that awful sewer pipe into a stream in the middle of a midnight thunderstorm. He stands up in that stream and raises his arms to heaven and screams a cry of freedom. He has been set free, released, born again, resurrected, given new life.

Imagine how that felt – to taste freedom again. Andy felt it and the deaf man in the Gospel felt it. It’s tempting for us to think that we are free.

We are reminded of our freedoms as Americans a lot. Freedom of speech, freedom of the press, free assembly, freedom of religion.

But we can be in prison. Maybe not a physical prison, but we can be imprisoned by addiction, or abuse, by our appetites. We can be prisoners of relentless drive – driven by consumption, we must work more, to spend more, to have more, credit card bills and mortgages become a sentence. We can be imprisoned in selfishness, living as if the world revolved around us, or feelings of worthlessness, not being attractive enough, or successful enough, or intelligent enough.

Hopelessness can be a prison whether about a medical condition or a family struggle, or job loss. Giving up puts us in chains.

For Christ stands ready to say to us: “Ephphatha (ef’-uh-tha), be released, be free,” from whatever prison you have found yourself in.

Christ stands ready to set you free – the heal you – perhaps not all at once, like the man in the Gospel. For freedom more often comes one pocketful of broken rock at a time.

Taking the first step to surrender to a higher power and admit one’s powerlessness over alcohol or drugs, or gambling, or sex. Admitting abuse and taking the first step toward safety, being honest about trying to find happiness through material things and how life has become unmanageable because of how much you work, to commit to living more simply, confessing selfishness and feelings of inadequacy and worthlessness.

All of these are first steps towards freedom, and Christ stands ready to accompany you, and me, on the journey toward wholeness and new life - the journey toward freedom. Christ says to us, today, “Ephphatha, be free”, and Christ has the power to lead us to freedom and new life. May our hearts be open to freedom and new life this day.

      
 Click here for earlier sermons