From Silence to Song
“Then looking up to heaven, he sighed and said to him, ‘Ephphatha,’ that is, ‘Be opened.’”
In “The Healing of the Deaf and Mute Man” by the Dutch Renaissance painter Bartholomeus Breenbergh (1635), we see a rich dramatization of this week’s Gospel lesson. As one might guess from the framing of the miracle, Breenbergh had a special interest in painting Italian monuments and landscapes: the key visual element of the image is not the miracle, but the hulking ruins that dominant the right two thirds of the image. Christ and the subject of his healing is there, lost amidst the crowds within the scene of desolation. And there, in the foreground, more people who are sick and suffering, obscured by shadows, while the light breaking through the crowd illuminates the crowd circling around Jesus and this astonishing healing.
Breenbergh's choice to set this New Testament scene amidst classical ruins invites us to consider the timelessness of Christ's ministry. It suggests that the healing power of Jesus transcends specific historical moments, reaching across time to touch lives in every age. It is a visual anachronism that serves as a powerful reminder that Christ's work of restoration is ongoing, relevant to our modern struggles just as it was in first-century Galilee. It is, indeed, a powerful metaphor for our own spiritual journey: the decaying structures serve a reminder of the transient nature of human achievements and the brokenness of our world, but amidst this scene of decay, Christ's healing power shines through, offering hope and restoration.
As we reflect on this artwork in light of our scripture readings, we're challenged to consider: Where do we see ourselves in this scene? Are we among those in shadow, longing for healing? Are we in the illuminated crowd, witnessing God's work with awe? Or are we, perhaps, called to be agents of Christ's healing touch in our own communities, bringing light to those in darkness?
Breenbergh's masterful composition invites us not just to observe a historical event, but to enter into the ongoing story of God's redemptive work in the world. It reminds us that even in the midst of decay and brokenness, Christ's healing power remains present and active, calling us to both receive and extend His transformative touch.
"Say to those who are of a fearful heart, 'Be strong, do not fear! Here is your God.'"
- Isaiah 35:4
Sixteenth Sunday after Pentecost
Texts for This Week
Prayer
O Lord God, grant your people grace to withstand the temptations of the world, the flesh, and the devil, and with pure hearts and minds to follow you, the only God; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.
Scriptures
Isaiah 35:4–7
Psalm 146
James 1:17–27
Mark 7:31–37
Fly, my Thoughts
Va, pensiero – the Hebrew slaves chorus from the third act of Verdi’s Nabucco, is one of the most famous moments in all of opera … and probably the only time the vibe of Psalm 137 has been set to a waltz. It makes for a strange contrast: on the one hand, the anguished lament of the libretto, crying out, “Mindful of the fate of Solomon's temple, cry out with raw lamentation!” over the florid, dance-like lines of the music. But this is very much in the paradoxical spirit of the Psalm itself: which is framed as a response to the demand of the oppressors, “Sing us one of songs of Zion!”
Such a juxtaposition of lament and beauty resonates with the complex emotions expressed in our scriptures. Just as the exiles in Babylon struggled to sing songs of joy in a foreign land, we too often find ourselves navigating the tension between sorrow and hope, between the reality of our circumstances and the promise of God's faithfulness. Isaiah with the words, “Be strong, do not fear! Here is your God," and Jesus comes in our midst, loosening our tongues to praise God in the midst of the chaos. Likewise this chorus becomes a powerful expression of communal faith and resilience, reminding us that even in our darkest moments, we can lift our voices in praise and supplication to God, who hears our cries and responds with compassion and liberation.
