Sermon: Proper 18 RCL B – “The Father’s Will”

Photo by Kristina Flour on Unsplash

A little bit of sports trivia for you this morning (not that I’m an expert). Who did the Kansas City Chiefs play at Arrowhead Stadium in Kansas City on September 29, 2014? Answer: New England Patriots. The Chiefs won that game 41-14, but the Patriots went on to win the Super Bowl that season. If that is the case, what is so special about the September 29th game? As it turns out, a world record was set—Arrowhead Stadium officially became the world’s loudest NFL arena, reaching 142.2 decibels. How loud is that? You know those cars that pull up next to you, and they’ve got the stereo volume cranked up so loud you can not only hear it but feel it? Well, turn up that volume even more, and you might reach 142.2 decibels. It is about the equivalent of firing off a high-powered rifle right next to your ear, with no ear protection. It is loud enough to be very painful and damaging.

That’s American football, but when you say “football” to the rest of the world, they think of a different sport—soccer. Soccer fans are almost as loud as our football fans. The loudest soccer field is in Turkey. They reached 131.76 decibels. Still enough to blow out a few ear drums. However, earlier this month, a soccer match was played in the 13,000-seat Eiffel Tower Stadium in Paris. The stadium was filled, and the game was very exciting, but for the most part… well, you might not have been able to hear a pin drop, but you could hear the tinkling of a small bell. Welcome to the sport of blind soccer. Yes. You heard that correctly—blind soccer. The fans are very quiet because the ball has a small bell inside that the players listen for. Through that slight sound and the voices of coaches and teammates, they can play the game. If the fans make noise, the game cannot be played.

We know why sports stadiums get loud—people are excited about the game or ticked off at the referees, but why do rooms full of people get loud? You only have to think of our parish hall during a potluck. At first, it is quiet, but then people begin to talk. I don’t think we’ve ever reached 142 decibels, but it occasionally gets pretty loud. Why is that? The answer was discovered by Étienne Lombard, an otolaryngologist (one who studies the relationship between ears, nose, and throat), and the answer was named after him—the Lombard Effect. Simply put, the louder an environment becomes, the louder our voices become. Not only does it affect humans, but animals as well (which provides no explanation as to why the Queen likes to meow loudly in the middle of the night. It is good to be Queen.)

What does any of this have to do with today?

From our Gospel reading: “Jesus set out and went away to the region of Tyre. He entered a house and did not want anyone to know he was there.” And then a little further, after healing a deaf-mute, “Jesus ordered them to tell no one.” Jesus was looking for a quiet place. However, the more Jesus sought quiet places where He could be alone and the more He ordered them to keep quiet, “the more zealously they proclaimed it” and Him. 

In a sense, the Lombard Effect was at play, and the decibels were climbing. He wanted them to remain silent, but once one person started talking about Him, another would, and another, until an uproar surrounded Him. Unfortunately, Jesus was trying to hear the tinkling of the bell. Jesus had a very specific goal in mind. All the attention and people seeking Him out were not necessarily a distraction from fulfilling this goal. Yet, He did not want to come to the attention of the religious leaders and other authorities any more than was necessary until everything was in place.

The first encounter we read about today took place in Tyre. This was on the coast and very much a Gentile region. Jesus had hoped to go unnoticed, perhaps thinking that since Jews and Gentiles weren’t the best of friends, they would be ignored. However, while there, He meets the Syrophoenician woman, who, even though a Gentile, dares to speak to a Jew. 

Having heard of Jesus, she asks Him to heal her daughter of the demon. Jesus responds, “Let the children be fed first, for it is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.” That sounds like a terribly rude rebuke, but most commentators will agree that Jesus would not have meant it as such when speaking to the woman and that the woman would have known it. They were both playing the game—Jews and Gentiles did not get along, and if you think what Jesus said was rude, well, you should hear how the Gentiles referred to the Jews. They both slipped into their roles, and they both played the game. A bit like two good friends trash-mouthing one another. “Yo mama’s so fat, her picture fell off the wall.” “Well, Yo mama’s so fat, her blood type is marinara sauce.” Things like that. Because of her faith, and in spite of the fact that she was a Gentile, Jesus healed her daughter of the demon. The Scriptures do not indicate it, but do you think she kept quiet when she came home and found her daughter cured? Or do you think decibels increased?

Jesus told His disciples, “They know us here, so let’s head inland to the Decapolis (another Gentile region) and see if we fare any better.” They did not. The people immediately recognize Jesus and bring him to the deaf-mute. Jesus takes the man to a private place so that others will not witness the miracle, but to no avail; the decibels increase. “He has done everything well; he even makes the deaf to hear and the mute to speak.”

The irony of that second healing is apparent. Jesus wants them to remain silent, but He heals a deaf-mute, so there is one more individual who can hear and proclaim. However, now, Jesus is not only a great teacher and miracle worker, but He is also fulfilling prophecy, and the people know it. We read from the Prophet Isaiah,

“Then the eyes of the blind shall be opened,
and the ears of the deaf unstopped;

then the lame shall leap like a deer,
and the tongue of the speechless sing for joy.”

And the decibels increase, yet Jesus is focused. Like one of the blind soccer players, Jesus is listening for one thing. He has one goal—the Father’s Will. What is the Will for the Father? Jesus said, “This is the will of him who sent me, that I should lose nothing of all that he has given me, but raise it up on the last day. For this is the will of my Father, that everyone who looks on the Son and believes in him should have eternal life, and I will raise him up on the last day.” What did the Father give to Jesus? Everything and Everyone. The Will of the Father was that Jesus redeem all of Creation, and he couldn’t do that, healing one demon-possessed girl at a time or one deaf-mute at a time. In addition, these types of healing only heal the body. Jesus’ goal was to heal the soul. To heal the broken relationship between us and God. Jesus was to say, “Ephphatha,” “be open,” not just so that the ears of the deaf could be opened. He was to say “Ephphatha” so that the souls of all humankind could be opened, and this could only occur through His death and resurrection. For as Jesus said, “Now is the judgment of this world; now will the ruler of this world be cast out. And I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all people to myself.” (John 12:31-32)

During the last years of Jesus’ life, much noise surrounded Him, yet he needed to lower the decibels until this work was complete. You and I are now free to shout Jesus’ goal from the mountain tops, but like Jesus, there are times when we need to lower the decibels of our own lives so that, like Jesus, we can listen for the “tinkling of the bell.” So that we can discover and hear the will of the Father in our lives. 

The author of the Book of Ecclesiastes tells us there is “a time to keep silence, and a time to speak.” (Ecclesiastes 3:7b) How might Jesus speak the word “Ephphatha… be opened” to the ears of your soul so that you may hear the voice of the Father? How might you make opportunities to provide the quiet that is necessary to hear above all the noise of your life? 

My friend, St. Josemaría Escrivá, writes, “Silence is the door-keeper of the interior life.” (The Way #281) Take the necessary time to find a place to lower the decibels and then listen. In doing so, like Jesus, you can discover the Will of the Father. Then, like Jesus, live your life fulfilling that Will without allowing the noise to distract you from it.

Let us pray: From all eternity, O Lord, You planned our very existence and our destiny. You wrapped us in Your love in baptism and gave us the Faith to lead us to eternal life and happiness with You. Now we ask for the light we so earnestly need that we may find the way of life in which lies the best fulfillment of Your will so on the last day, we may find our reward in union with You forever and ever. Amen.

One Reply to “”

  1. Just seeing those decibel levels makes my ears hurt! Yes, it is often very difficult to find that space to get away from the noise of the world, but it is also so very necessary. This is why no one knows where my quiet space is.

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