Why do we sometimes become cynical when we don’t understand something?  It’s easy to do.  Something happens and it does not fit into our patterned way of thinking things should work.  It does not fit into our scheme and this brings on annoyance, irritation, cynicism and even violence sometimes.  We can become in a sense demonic in that we refuse to accept another possibility, another way of looking at things, a perhaps new way to process information, or more importantly, a creative way to relate to someone who is different than us.  There is a deliberate muteness that characterizes this rigid stance.  We refuse to move and we are shut up in an intolerance that closes off and mutes everything else that could possibly bring new life.

So, in the Gospel today (MT 9: 32-38), Jesus drives out a demon from a mute man.

A demoniac who could not speak was brought to Jesus, and when the demon was driven out the mute man spoke. The crowds were amazed and said, “Nothing like this has ever been seen in Israel.” But the Pharisees said, “He drives out demons by the prince of demons.”

So, are we the crowds or the Pharisees?  Do we allow ourselves to be wonderfully amazed by the release of imprisonment or do we become cynical as the Pharisees do?  Do we welcome a glimpse of hope that can break down barriers that prevent us from authentic communication and relationships or do we recast this miracle of healing by explaining it away solely in terms of firmly-formed mental structures that grant us stale comfortableness – at all cost?  It’s not really an either/or situation when considering the responses from the crowd and the Pharisees regarding the healing of the mute.  Indeed, I find myself vacillating between the two many times – hopeful yet guarded!

Let’s face it – it just seems too good to be true and we feel that opening ourselves to new possibilities will require us to give up something, or will actually detract from the identity that we have about ourselves.  This is demonic I believe in that it stifles or mutes all alternative options.    The fear of losing something outweighs for us the possibility for newness, rejuvenation, and outright freedom.  Inasmuch as we hold this construct of rigid freedom in such high regard, we ironically, miss the opportunity for real freedom, which is grounded in creative relationships that have the capacity to transform all of us.

Jesus’ response to this situation is intimate and heart-wrenching:

At the sight of the crowds, his heart was moved with pity for them because they were troubled and abandoned, like sheep without a shepherd. Then he said to his disciples, “The harvest is abundant but the laborers are few; so ask the master of the harvest to send out laborers for his harvest.”

From Jesus’ standpoint we as humans capture all perspectives in the story:  We are the crowd, the Pharisees, and the mute man.  And Jesus’ only response to this is solely grounded in soul-based compassion. He looks at us and is sad, but this is not a sadness that turns inward but is already reaching out, seeking to comfort, support, and heal.  Even in the face of sadness and loss and abandonment, the image that Jesus uses to describe this – by all accounts – scene of desolation is that “the harvest is abundant!”  He is just ready to come and get us, to go out to us and bring us in…together.  What we have deemed wanting is paradoxically the very opportunity for abundance!

Then we have the curious turn in the story.  Gathering requires workers, – it’s not a one-person job.  This would be an impossible and unrealistic task.  Jesus is already sharing His identity with us, sharing his role as the Child of God with us!  So, he encourages us to “ask the master of the harvest to send out laborers for his harvest.”  Jesus, and the Master, Who is God, need us, as odd as that may seem.  As has been said, we are the hands and feet of Jesus, and these holy limbs are designed for one important task – to carry and bear each other, to go out to each other, to bring each other back, and to journey along together with each other.

In order to do this, we cannot allow ourselves to be demonized by rigid ways of thinking that can only break upon ourselves and each other in ignorant violence.  In order to move out of muteness, we must  see the great fields for the wonderful harvest they are – just waiting to be gathered and shared, and to move forward in relationships of creativity that allow for even more abundance – this is a type of trans-mutation.

Yes, this does mean that something may have to be left behind, but I am convinced that the only loss that we encounter in all this is a false sense of life and freedom that tends toward isolation and bitterness and ultimately a loss of humanity.

One clear example of this is what stands behind the circumstances at our nation’s border and the devastating effects that occur  when we hold onto a sense of freedom in service to the fear of losing something rather than working toward the possibility for newness, rejuvenation, and authentic freedom for everyone.  How can we break out of the numbness of isolation to engage in the possibility for creative freedom through authentically human interactions that are at the same time divine by transforming delusions of boundaries into inclusive “fields” of abundance?

When we work in the fields together, all aspects of life are shared, and in this sharing, the almost limitless perspectives afforded engenders inexplicable harvests of Hope and Healing.  We are all growing together and need each other’s nourishment constantly, so that we, by transcending the borders of muteness, we can sing together in abundance.

Mind you, it requires hard work, and the field is wide and without borders.  Dare we allow this to gladden?

As wheat in the dawn, we are glistening in the soft light of a new day awakening, while the Healing Wind plays in our hair with waves of furious delight!

Peace

Thomas

(Updated from a reflection originally published July 5, 2016)