Ephphatha!

You speak, Lord, and I listen,
words written on my heart;
my soul, though, does not quicken,
and still my heart is hard.
I hear, but I am deaf yet;
am blinded, but I see.
I am closed off from heaven:
Ephphatha! say to me.

How can my eyes be opened
to see what you reveal?
My stone heart mst be broken
so that I may be healed.
How can I hear the whisper
as heaven's door swings free?
As you were pierced for sinners,
Ephphatha! say to me.

For you yourself were opened,
and you wept floods of tears—
so each of us is broken,
and I myself am pierced.
As you have suffered with me,
my sufferings redeem.
Let heaven open in me:
Ephphatha! say to me.

Christ healing the deaf mute of Decapolis, by Bartholomeus Breenbergh, 1635 – http://www.insecula.com/oeuvre/O0017918.html, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=5746158

Exiled Hearts

Thus says the LORD:
   Shout with joy for Jacob,
       exult at the head of the nations;
       proclaim your praise and say:
   The LORD has delivered his people,
       the remnant of Israel.
   Behold, I will bring them back
       from the land of the north;
   I will gather them from the ends of the world,
       with the blind and the lame in their midst,
   the mothers and those with child;
       they shall return as an immense throng.
   They departed in tears,
       but I will console them and guide them;
   I will lead them to brooks of water,
       on a level road, so that none shall stumble.
   For I am a father to Israel,
       Ephraim is my first-born.
—Jeremiah 31:7-9

The Lord will come, and it will not be long:
He comes at last to lead the exiles home—
See how they follow him, a joyous throng
come singing on a smooth and level road.

He leads them through the parting of the seas:
The limping ones, the old, the deaf, the blind,
the fearful hearts come after him with ease—
All those we thought we had to leave behind.

For we had fallen to the ways of strength,
as captives to the powers we desired.
How could the feeble walk the desert's length?
How would the weak do then what was required?

We did not fathom how the love divine
would shrink himself to fit our helplessness;
we did not understand our God's design
to show his glory in our weaknesses.

But so it was, and it shall be again:
Though we have wandered, he will bring us back.
We were cast out, but he will lead us in
and fill up with himself all that we lack.

Then bring to him your weak and foolish heart;
fear not to show what brings you to your knees
and say to his, “My child, what do you want?”
“O Son of David, Lord, I want to see!”

Healing of the blind man of Jericho By Unknown author – Codex Egberti, Fol 31, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=8096753

Touch

He began to teach them
that the Son of Man must suffer greatly
and be rejected by the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes,
and be killed, and rise after three days.
He spoke this openly.
Then Peter took him aside and began to rebuke him.
At this he turned around and, looking at his disciples,
rebuked Peter and said, “Get behind me, Satan.
You are thinking not as God does, but as human beings do.”
He summoned the crowd with his disciples and said to them,
“Whoever wishes to come after me must deny himself,
take up his cross, and follow me.
For whoever wishes to save his life will lose it,
but whoever loses his life for my sake
and that of the gospel will save it.”
—Mark 8:27-35

O Son of Man, come touch my mind
to think as you would do.
Let every falsehood fall behind
as I draw near to you.

O Word of heaven, touch my ears
to hear you speak my name.
Condemn me not for doubt or fear,
but call me out of shame.

O glorious healer, touch my eyes
to see as you have seen:
The cross becomes the tree of life
that grows on Calvary.

O carpenter, come touch my hands
to bear with you that cross,
to labor as your love demands
and not to count the cost.

O, touch my feet and bid me walk
where you have led the way,
and keep my steps on solid rock
though I may tread the waves.

O, come at last and touch my heart
that it may beat like yours,
and burning with the love of God 
may live forevermore.

Sopron ( Hungary ). Sopron Museum – Lapidarium: Grave monument for Salvius – detail: Tree of Life Photo By Wolfgang Sauber – Own work, CC BY-SA 4.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=95048844

Arise

She had heard about Jesus and came up behind him in the crowd
and touched his cloak.
She said, “If I but touch his clothes, I shall be cured.”
Immediately her flow of blood dried up….
So he went in and said to them,
“Why this commotion and weeping?
The child is not dead but asleep.”
And they ridiculed him.
Then he put them all out.
He took along the child’s father and mother
and those who were with him
and entered the room where the child was.
He took the child by the hand and said to her, “Talitha koum,”
which means, “Little girl, I say to you, arise!”
—Mark 5:21-43

O Savior, see us children
beseech you on our knees
for all our kith and kindred,
for all who mourn and weep.
You made us to be with you,
provided for our needs,
and shaped us in your image—
Lord, how your image bleeds!

Our hands are lifted toward you,
our souls cast down to death.
Let our prayers come before you
with each heart-wrung “Amen”—
not far, for you come toward us,
God-with-us without end.
Oh, may we reach out for you
and touch your muddy hem!

For you have seen our sorrow—
our tears have filled your eyes—
and we have felt your power
that fills our wounded lives.
We still will fall tomorrow:
Do not leave us to lie,
but say once more and always,
“O little one, arise!”

Ottheinrich Folio052r Mc5B By Unknown (Markusmaler or Martinus Opifex) – Ottheinrich-Bibel, Bayerische Staatsbibliothek, Cgm 8010, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=14729867

Fractured

Summoning them, he began to speak to them in parables,
“How can Satan drive out Satan?
If a kingdom is divided against itself,
that kingdom cannot stand.
And if a house is divided against itself,
that house will not be able to stand.
And if Satan has risen up against himself
and is divided, he cannot stand;
that is the end of him.
But no one can enter a strong man’s house to plunder his property
unless he first ties up the strong man.
Then he can plunder the house.”
—Mark 3:20-35

A house divided cannot stand:
The roof will kiss the floor.
When civil war consumes the land,
the kingdom stands no more.

Then how shall I, fragmented heart,
stand upright on my own?
No, I will take my fractured parts
and lay them at your throne.

Come, then, O king and conqueror:
That strong man bind in me.
What plunders me, O plunderer,
bind fast, and set me free.

Drive out the demons driving me;
the space that's left, come fill.
Knit me together, piece by piece,
that I may do your will.

Then I shall be your own, O Lord,
when I at last am mine,
one with the throng before your throne:
Your body, and your bride.

The Hanged Man’s House, Cézanne, 1873. By Paul Cézanne – Paul Cézanne, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=132795

Unclean

A leper came to Jesus and kneeling down begged him and said,
“If you wish, you can make me clean.”
Moved with pity, he stretched out his hand,
touched him, and said to him,
“I do will it. Be made clean.”
The leprosy left him immediately, and he was made clean.
Mark 1:40-45

To the tune FINLANDIA:

Look down, O God, on all befouled and cast off,

on all who slink and strive to go unseen,

on all who pass in shadows and through backdoors,

on all who hide and know themselves unclean.

Look down and see, who knows what I would ask for,

yet if you wish it, you can make me clean.



You know my need, who bore it in your body,

and my desire, much as I might deny:

I would be seen, but who would see me worthy?

I would be known; from being known, I fly.

I would be loved, but, Lord, I am not lovely.

O Son of David, do not pass me by!



But if you will, O Christ, if you desire it,

then you can heal this wounded, wayward heart.

Though hidden deep, yet you can seek and find it

and bring it home, though I would dwell apart.

Though strong its chains, yet you can still unbind it

and make it whole, though I have only shards.



O tender Lord and shepherd of the broken,

who searches out the lost in every land,

you call my name—I cannot hear it spoken;

then reach for me with healing in your hands.

Now spit in dust, and bid me to be opened,

and touch my tongue to sing your praise again.

Niels Larsen Stevns: Helbredelsen af den spedalske,Healing of the Leper – Own work (Own photo)(Skovgaard Museum, Viborg, Denmark), Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=1430117 OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

Empty Hands

After making the crossing to the other side of the sea,
Jesus and his disciples came to land at Gennesaret
and tied up there.
As they were leaving the boat, people immediately recognized him.
They scurried about the surrounding country
and began to bring in the sick on mats
to wherever they heard he was.
Whatever villages or towns or countryside he entered,
they laid the sick in the marketplaces
and begged him that they might touch only the tassel on his cloak;
and as many as touched it were healed.
Mark 6:53-56

You came from distant glory

to walk upon our shore.

In city or in country,

we scramble to come forward,

for if your shadow touch me

it mends what I have rent,

and what do you ask of me

but only to repent?



You crossed the seas from heaven

and landed on our sands

to tell us of forgiveness,

a kingdom close at hand.

I come to you with nothing

to beg your grace, O Christ—

and you accept the offer,

for nothing could suffice.



I cannot work you wonders—

such powers I hold not.

I cannot speak like thunder

or seek and save the lost.

My hands are weak and empty,

without a gleam of gold,

but when you pass they stretch toward

the tassel of your robe.

jesus-healing-the-sick-by-gustave-dore-1832-1883 Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=14764413

Fragile Threads

Job spoke, saying:
Is not man’s life on earth a drudgery?
Are not his days those of hirelings?
He is a slave who longs for the shade,
a hireling who waits for his wages.
So I have been assigned months of misery,
and troubled nights have been allotted to me.
If in bed I say, “When shall I arise?”
then the night drags on;
I am filled with restlessness until the dawn.
My days are swifter than a weaver’s shuttle;
they come to an end without hope.
Remember that my life is like the wind;
I shall not see happiness again.
Job 7:1-4, 6-7

Swifter than a weaver's shuttle,

briefer than a watch at night,

drudgery and toil and trouble,

sleepless as we wait for light:

So we spend our whole life's journey,

restless nights and wasted days,

yet as lightning comes your mercy,

showing wonders by its blaze.



Christ, you see the brokenhearted:

Tenderly you bind their wounds.

Call us as you call the stars out,

glowing embers in our gloom.

You rebuild what lies within us;

you, the highest, look down low.

As you came to dwell with sinners,

so you turn our tears to hope.



We are fragile threads, but blessèd.

All roads lead us to our tombs,

yet you came to share our weakness,

thread yourself upon the loom.

You have borne our ills within you,

our infirmities your own,

so we'll share the life you've given

endlessly before your throne.

Job and His Friends by Ilya Repin (1869) – http://lj.rossia.org/users/john_petrov/854534.html, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=2538610

Scars

O God, look down from heav'n and see:
Alone, you pierce the veil
and know the wounds that do not bleed,
the grief of hopes that fail.

So bend your ear to heart-rent cries
gone hoarse with all the years,
too soft to pierce the distant skies:
Hear us and count our tears.

What if these wounds should never heal,
these wrongs be not undone?
Before you throne then shall we kneel
as torn as your own son?

For surely he has borne our pain
as he has died our death,
and still the marks on him are seen,
yet peace is in his breath.

Shall heaven be a wedding feast
where all the broken come,
called from the highways to their seats
around a broken groom?

He drew his brother to the wound
and bid him touch the heart.
See, Father, we are wounded, too:
Let Christ dwell in our scars.

“The incredulity of Thomas” from an English manuscript, c. 1504 By Unknown author – This image is available from the National Library of WalesYou can view this image in its original context on the NLW Catalogue, CC0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=44920993

Into the Garden

Come, O Lord, into the garden
where we tasted good and ill;
come restore the heart we hardened,
wash away the blood we spilled.
When you've sunk beneath our burdens,
drunk the cup that mercy filled,
take us through the tearing curtain
to a place that's holier still.

Lead us onward from our Eden—
our beginning, not our end—
out beyond the bounds of healing,
through the wounds we seek to mend.
Past repairing to redeeming,
more than we can comprehend,
where the angels host are singing
songs we'll finally understand.

From the hell that you have harrowed,
from the weeping-watered tomb,
on the roadway straight and narrow,
through the desert now in bloom,
lead us onward through all sorrows,
past the joy we thought we knew,
to the day beyond tomorrows—
Make us there with all things new.

Expulsion from Paradise, painting by James Tissot (c. 1896–1902) By James Jacques Joseph Tissot (1836 – 1902) (French)Google Art Projectでのアーティストの詳細 – igGZ-wF6_0XnlQ at Google Cultural Institute maximum zoom level, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=22493007