“Ephphatha” (Be opened), spoken by Jesus in Mark 7:34, is a powerful, ongoing invitation to spiritual, emotional, and relational openness. It signifies healing the inner deafness and silence that isolates individuals, urging a receptive heart towards God, others, and oneself.
There is a need in our faith journey to move beyond fear, prejudice, or apathy that restricts our hearing of God’s word and our ability to connect with the world. This aspect of “being open” is not merely a passive state but a command to actively open oneself—mind, heart, and soul—to grace, love, and the needs of others.
The miracle of Christ healing the deaf man demonstrates His desire to break down barriers, allowing “deaf and dumb” aspects of our lives—where we fail to listen or speak the truth—to be restored to wholeness.
There’s a need for silence. What the great spiritual writers of all ages tried to teach on this subject can perhaps be captured in a single line from Meister Eckhart: Nothing resembles the language of God as much as silence. In essence, Eckhart is saying that silence is a privileged entry into the divine realm. There’s a huge silence inside each of us that beckons us into itself and can help us learn the language of heaven. What’s meant by this?
Silence is a language that’s deeper, more far-reaching, more understanding, more compassionate, and more eternal than any other language. In heaven, it seems, there will be no languages, no words. Silence will speak. We will wholly, intimately, and ecstatically understand each other and hold each other in silence. Ironically, for all their importance, words are part of the reason we can’t fully do this already. Words unite, but they also divide. There’s a deeper connection available in silence.
John of the Cross expresses this in a wonderfully cryptic line: “Learn to understand more by not understanding than by understanding.” Silence can speak louder than words, and more deeply. We experience this already in different ways: when we are separated by distance or death from loved ones, we can still be with them in silence; when we are divided from other sincere persons through misunderstanding, silence can provide the place where we can be together; when we stand helpless before another’s suffering, silence can be the best way of expressing our empathy; and when we have sinned and have no words to restore things to their previous wholeness, in silence a deeper word can speak and let us know that, in the end, all will be well and every manner of being will be well.
Nothing resembles the language of God as much as silence. It’s the language of heaven, already deep inside of us, beckoning us, inviting us into deeper intimacy with everything, even as we still need the therapy of a public life. [Excerpt from Ron Rolheiser’s “The Place of Silence” February 2026]
