4 min read

The gospels record many of Jesus’ miracles. Though his miracles were not the focus or ultimate goal of his earthly ministry (Luke 19:10), they were integral. Some miracles were accomplished by the mere speaking of words (Luke 5:17-26). Others required the obedience of the one receiving the benefits of the miracle (John 9:1-7). He even performed some miracles long-distance (Matthew 8:5-13). Sometimes, Jesus’ methods were downright odd. He once made mud with his own spit and rubbed it on the eyes of a blind man (John 9).

Mark records one such miracle in Mark 7. A deaf man with a speech impediment was brought to Jesus (perhaps by his friends or family), and they begged Jesus to lay hands on him. I don’t know if they had met Jesus before this encounter, but they obviously knew of him and sought him out for the healing of their friend. They begged Jesus to lay his hands on their friend—an act that seems appropriate for the working of miracles. I am certain they waited with bated breath to see what Jesus—the gentle healer—would do for their friend.

But Jesus didn’t lay his hands on the man. Rather, he led him away from the crowds privately. Perhaps he didn’t want to make a spectacle of the event or have the deaf man become overwhelmed with the sounds of the crowd. Whatever his reasons, Jesus pulled him aside—and stuck his fingers into the deaf man’s ears. That’s a startling turn of events, especially when you’re expecting Jesus to simply lay his hands on you and say something very Son-of-God-like. After Jesus pulled his fingers out of the startled man’s ears, he spat (presumably on the ground). Then, he touched the man’s tongue. These actions may seem strange, but Jesus is dealing gently with the deaf man, helping him understand what is happening.

Then, Jesus looked up to heaven and released a sigh. There are moments in Jesus’ ministry when he sighs deeply in his spirit over the brokenness of the world and the far-reaching effects of sin—a righteous anger directed at Satan and sin verbalized in sighing or loud cries (John 11:35). Jesus knows the man will be healed, but he doesn’t make light of the situation. This act of healing was more than a health issue—it was waging war on Satan and the effects of sin in the world.

Finally, Jesus uttered a single word: Ephphatha, the Greek form of an Aramaic word that means “be opened.” In an instant, the man’s ears were opened, his tongue was released, and he spoke plainly. The miracle wasn’t accomplished in the way the man and his friends thought it might be, but God’s will was accomplished regardless. Jesus was victorious over the effects of sin, and the man was miraculously healed. In their astonishment, the man and his friends proclaim about Jesus: “He has done all things well.”

He Still Does All Things Well

As I pray for my unbelieving friends and family, I resonate deeply with Jesus’ sighs. I am weary of sin. I am weary of the brokenness and the blindness. I often find myself wishing Jesus would just “lay his hands” on everyone and everything and fix it all. When my feelings begin to cloud what I know to be true about Jesus, I begin to doubt his process and his timing. I want miracles and I want them now. But I am always gently reminded—and sometimes rebuked—by the powerful words of Scripture. God may not work in the ways I think he should. Sometimes it may look downright strange from my perspective. But this I know: he has done all things well. Therefore, I will rest in his wise and gracious providence. All that the Father gives to Christ will come to him (John 6:37). God’s Word will accomplish all its purposes (Isaiah 55:11).

He has done all things well.

He does all things well.

He will continue to do all things well.


William E. Burrows II

W. E. Burrows

William Burrows is a husband, father, preacher, and writer. He is the marketing lead at Banner of Truth and the host of The Grazing Podcast. He lives in Pennsylvania with his wife and their five sons. You can follow him on Instagram, Threads, and Facebook.

Younger. Restlesser. Reformeder.

Menu
crossmenu