From Wall To Path

24th Sunday in Ordinary Time (B)

Readings: Isaiah 50: 5-9; Psalm 114 (116): 1-6, 8-9; James 2: 14-18; Mark 8: 27-35

Picture: By Tan Kaninthanond on Unsplash

My dear friends, what is the connection between deafness and suffering? The answer seems obvious, right? We see deafness as a dis-ability, a lack, a form of suffering. And deafness can also act like a path that leads to even more suffering. Such as when hearing-impaired children aren’t given a proper education. But isn’t there also another kind of deafness, for which the opposite is true? A deafness that operates not as a path, but as a wall to keep suffering at bay. One example is the psychological defence of denial. When someone dies suddenly, his or her spouse may keep insisting that the beloved is actually still alive. Subconsciously, the bereaved person turns a deaf ear to the pain of loss. Time is needed for the wall of deafness to crumble, and for the path to suffering to open up, along with the possibility of moving on. We find something similar in our scriptures today.

We may recall that, in the gospel passage we heard last week, Jesus healed a deaf man, who had an impediment in his speech. In today’s reading, the Lord again encounters deafness, except that this time the affliction is more spiritual than physical. When Jesus shares with his own disciples the troubling news that he himself is destined to suffer grievously… to be rejected… put to death, and after three days to rise again, Peter is unable to accept it. Like someone grieving the sudden loss of a loved one, Peter’s first reaction is denial. His spiritual deafness acts like a wall, preventing him not only from sharing physically in the Lord’s suffering, but even from simply empathising with his friend.

Deafness that acts as a wall to keep suffering at bay. We find this in the second reading too, where St James makes a sharp distinction between a living faith, and one that’s quite dead. A living faith expresses itself in good works. It is down-to-earth. It hears and responds generously and practically to the cries of the poor. A dead faith, however, is deaf, walled-off from the sufferings of others. Even when faced with those who lack the bare necessities of life, all it does is offer pious platitudes. I wish you well; keep yourself warm and eat plenty.

But what causes this deafness, and how can it be healed? In the gospel, Jesus attributes Peter’s condition to the things that fill his mind and heart. The way you think is not God’s way but man’s. The world typically sees suffering as no more than something to be avoided at all costs, sometimes even to the point of ignoring and abandoning those who suffer. In contrast, our loving and merciful God hears the cries of those who suffer, and draws close to them. Isn’t this the experience of the psalmist? I love the Lord for he has heard the cry of my appeal… And more than just hearing and drawing close, God actually takes on our sufferings. Isn’t this what Jesus is doing in the gospel? Isn’t this what we celebrate at Mass? Like the suffering servant in the first reading, Jesus allows his ears to be opened to the cry of the poor, and they courageously accepts all of the suffering that results from his closeness to them. I offered my back to those who struck me… I did not cover my face against insult and spittle…

And it’s important for us to remember that this path through suffering is not a dead-end. Rather it leads to the fullness of life in God. Not just in heaven, but already here on earth. For after Jesus dies on the Cross, God raises him from the dead. Which is why the Lord can say that anyone who loses his life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it. This is the way deafness is healed. This is how a dead faith is raised. By seeking, finding and following the Lord. Not just here in church, but also out there in the world. Wherever suffering may be found. Not just in faraway war-torn or disaster-stricken countries, but also in our own backyard, our own workplaces and schools, our own families and homes. For how else can our deafness be overcome, except by drawing close to those who cry out? And how else can our faith become more down-to-earth, except by allowing our hands to get dirty?

Perhaps this is why, in his recent state address, even as he praised our nation’s achievements, Pope Francis also chose to highlight the risk entailed in focusing solely on pragmatism or placing merit above all things, namely the unintended consequence of justifying the exclusion of those on the margins from benefiting from progress. The Pope also expressed his hope that special attention… be paid to the poor and the elderly––whose labours have laid the foundations for the Singapore we see today––as well as to protecting the dignity of migrant workers…. (who) contribute a great deal to society and should be guaranteed a fair wage.

Sisters and brothers, what can we do, as individuals, as families, and as a community, to allow the Lord to gradually transform the wall of our deafness into a path to life today?