“And people brought to Jesus a deaf man who had a speech impediment and begged him to lay his hand on him.”  
When Johnny Carson still ruled late night television I recall a guest on the show that caught my attention.  Mel Tillis achieved great success as a singer, but his speech impediment—a stutter—from the time he was a child throughout his adulthood remained his identity.  His singing voice was superfluous, but he stuttered whenever he spoke, overcoming his fears, not allowing the opinions of others define his life.  He remained an advocate for individuals who struggled with speech impediments and toward the end of his life was awarded one of the highest honors of our nation, the National Medal of Arts.  Though he could not overcome this speech impediment, Mel's life was defined by graciousness, love of music, a creative spirit, and generosity toward others as an advocate.  
In the book “Disabilities and the Gospel: How God Uses our Brokenness to Display His Grace” the author (Michael Beates) gives us an insight into the grace of our faith we often overlook.  “While athletic contests in themselves may be innocent exhibitions of strength and agility (just as classical musical symphonies are exhibitions of agility and precision of a different sort), like all good things, the delight in physical excellence in the West ends in its virtual exaltation with the temptation of despising the weak and unable. . . .In declaring our innate inability and God’s supreme ability as the giver of all good gifts, we can gather around us like-minded broken people and like-bodied broken people, together witnessing in a radically countercultural way that when we are weak, he is strong, and then he receives the glory due to him alone. . . .The problem is that when one does not respect life as inherently valuable, as created in God’s image, the ruling ethic for value becomes what a person can do rather than who he or she is. . . .The gospel contrarily seeks to show that while all people have great worth, our individual worth is not intrinsic but extrinsic. It is bestowed on us in our mutual weakness and inability in order to magnify God’s grace and glory. The cultural confusion concerning the value of people should not be a surprise to the Christian community….We can offer dignity and care to all people, affirming their worth as ones who bear the image of God.”
In our gospel passage from Mark the deaf man brought before Jesus was healed, miraculously.  Often thought the miracle is not a physical healing; rather, it is our personal faith that affords us graciousness and generosity and joy in spite of our disabilities and impairments.  And a willingness to share that ‘Light’ before others.  Not so much how much we do that matters, but how much love we put into that action.  Back in 1951, Helen Keller wrote an essay for the CBS program “This I Believe.”  Born deaf, dumb and blind her physical disabilities could not deprive her of a certain immutable faith—a goodness that echoed from her soul—she put into words for this essay. “Faith is an indivisible totality of beliefs that inspire me: Belief in God as infinite goodwill and all-seeing Wisdom, whose everlasting arms sustain me walking on the sea of life. Trust in my fellow men, wonder at their fundamental goodness, and confidence that after this night of sorrow and oppression, they will rise up strong and beautiful in the glory of morning. Reverence for the beauty and preciousness of the earth, and a sense of responsibility to do what I can to make it a habitation of health and plenty for all men. Faith in immortality because it renders less bitter the separation from those I have loved and lost, and because it will free me from unnatural limitations, and unfold still more faculties I have in joyous activity.  It was a terrible blow to my faith when I learned that millions of my fellow creatures must labor all their days for food and shelter, bear the most crushing burdens, and die without having known the joy of living. My security vanished forever, and I have never regained the radiant belief of my young years that earth is a happy home and hearth for the majority of mankind. . . .The believer is not soon disheartened. If he is turned out of his shelter, he builds up a house that the winds of the earth cannot destroy.  Even if my vital spark should be blown out, I believe that I should behave with courageous dignity. . . and strive to be a worthy companion of the beautiful, the good, and the true. . . .When I think of the suffering and famine, and the continued slaughter of men, my spirit bleeds. But the thought comes to me that, like the little deaf, dumb and blind child I once was, mankind is growing out of the darkness of ignorance and hate into the light of a brighter day.
Quite possibly, looking into our heart and very soul, Christ Jesus pronounces, “Ephphatha!”—be opened!
God Bless, Fr. Tim
FYI: Could a greater miracle take place than for us to look through each other's eyes for an instant? (Henry David Thoreau)