Driving Out a Demon That Was Mute

St. Luke describes in his Gospel that “Jesus was driving out a demon that was mute, and when the demon had gone out, the mute man spoke and the crowds were amazed.”  It is curious that the quality of muteness is ascribed both to the demon itself and to the man likewise afflicted with an inability to speak.

The unanimous witness of the Evangelists is that the Devil does, in a way, know how to speak---or, more precisely, how to manipulate parasitically the language of its host to destroy authentic communication.  Think, for example, of Satan’s pseudo-conversation with Jesus in the desert, even quoting Sacred Scripture to misinterpret it.  Real communication involves the common love of, and search for, the truth.  And embracing shared truth forms communion.  The Evil One is opposed to such communication---especially because as it leads to the exchange of divine truth, it conduces to holy communion.  Thus Jesus calls the Devil a “liar” and the “father of lies”---in other words, a creature ultimately incapable of meaningful speech---self-damned to be an incoherent, fading echo.  On this basis one can rightly claim that Satan is in fact theologically mute, insofar as he has placed himself in willful, final opposition to the Word of God made flesh in the Person of Jesus Christ.

My temporary and partial muteness has made me much more sensitive to the myriad ways in which the Devil insidiously uses our speech---and its limitations---against us to render us virtually mute to one another and to the Lord.  First, not being able to speak freely and with ease necessarily multiplies opportunities for isolation and its accompanying feelings of loneliness.  One is more vulnerable to feeling ignored or misunderstood.  There can even grow (secretly, of course) an envy which resents the ability of other people to express themselves in such a carefree or masterful way apparently involving no difficulty or sacrifice.

Second, I have become much more aware of the violence involved in deliberately refusing to speak to someone with whom there is a genuine obligation to seek the truth in love.  The imperious nuclear option pronouncement of “I’ll never speak to that person again!” is an ever-present temptation in a disagreement or misunderstanding generating any heat.  Such one-sidedly chosen muteness has a demonic finality to it, prematurely closing off opportunities for future communication in such a way that the Lord’s Word is refused entry.  After all, only God can pronounce the “final sentence,” and that on Judgment Day.  Any pretended “permanent” closure short of that is in fact absurd (which etymologically is rooted in deafness).  Refusing to speak to each other necessarily implies the inability to hear each other.  This spiritual attitude is literally dumb.

Finally, the medical restrictions on my speech (even using my splint, I am only allowed four hours cumulatively each day) have made preaching, pastoral counseling, and the administration of the Sacrament of Confession to my people practically impossible.  I confess that this has been an excruciating trial for me, but one with salutary benefits:  Not only do I have a deeper hunger to return to these activities with increased zeal; I also appreciate more how precious the gifts of speech are---especially shared conversation concerning our spiritual lives---and how demonic the logic that opposes such opportunities to share the truth in love.  I am overjoyed that---as I type these very words---Fr. John Eze is in my Confessional at Queen of Peace welcoming all of those who are availing themselves of “The Light is on for You” campaign in Catholic churches throughout our Diocese and nation, inviting people back into a new conversional conversation with Christ.

It is a true miracle to be able to speak to the Lord in the Sacrament of Confession this Lent, exercising the holy privilege of putting into words one’s struggles and fears and failures.  The Risen Christ wants to rescue us from our temptation to abandon our true self to alienated silence and thus allow the Devil’s accusations (at best only partially true) and final condemnations (certainly false) to echo endlessly in our minds, paralyze our lips, and harden our hearts. 

So what deep, muffled sound did the Lord Jesus hear in the heart of that possessed mute which He also listens for in our hearts?  Surely the first words which begin the Church’s prayer in the Liturgy of the Hours each morning---the Psalmist’s cry:  “O Lord, open my lips, and my mouth shall proclaim Your praise!” (Ps 51:15).