When I was a young priest, I admit, I lived mainly in the future. I embarked on a warrior journey to save the Church and to implement the vision of the Second Vatican Council. There was no looking back. I left my older brother priests in the wake of my naivete. I desired what my professors instilled within me, a zeal for ecumenism, a strong voice of peace across the globe and a quest to empower laity in worship and in ministry among God’s poor.

As I immersed my life in the complexities of pastoral life, I slowly learned to settle down and to listen. I began to hear life differently and temper my zeal for change. However, this process was not easy. It has taken many years, many bruises and a lifetime of prayer. I still have much to learn from putting my ear and heart to the ground of ordinary life.

Mark 7:31-37, proclaimed on the Twenty-third Sunday in Ordinary Time, invites us to listen, to hear differently and to act in the empowerment of Christ’s presence and healing. We watch the scene unfold and listen to Jesus in this Gospel text. “He put his finger into the man’s ears and, spitting, touched his tongue; then he looked up to heaven and groaned, and said to him, ‘Ephphatha!’ (that is, ‘Be opened!’).”

“Be opened!” I slowly began opening up when I became immersed in people’s suffering. I remember walking into a nursing home a couple of years after ordination. The nurse wanted me to speak to a man my age who had just been in a motorcycle accident and was completely paralyzed. After a few minutes, he struggled to speak to me. He said in a faint voice, “I am the one who is paralyzed, why are you so afraid?” I will never forget him.

I never realized, shortly after ordination, that a disease would become a foundation of my priesthood. AIDS demanded a response. Few in the Church were stepping into that demand. A man came to me and we chatted for hours. I took a step to listen. His life changed my priesthood. Jesus put his finger in my ears and I began to listen. I spent the next 20 years listening in various cities and states. I followed the lead of the first person I met with AIDS, who challenged me to get over myself.

I slowly realized the vision of the Church I so desired could not be lived by stepping over suffering. I had to pass through the cross. This vision Jesus instills in all of us as clergy is that when we meet suffering on a road, we will stop to pay attention. We must bend down. We must learn to listen. We must learn to find our way along the path where Jesus does the healing, not us.

I realized the sight and vision Jesus offered this man along the path was far greater than any plan I had for the future. I learned to clean out my ears from hearing only my negative talk. I learned to listen without planning what I would say next when another person was speaking. I learned to listen without an agenda of fixing another human being. I learned to listen without changing other people, without repairing their thoughts or wishing people became different because of my encounters with them.

I realized along the path of ministry that providence was so important. Jesus was showing me the path, the vision of the Church, but first I would have to learn more about my own life, and my own inner life. With the help of spiritual directors, mentors and psychologists, I began to see how people were putting a salve on my heart and helping me restore my vision, my way of life, my opinions and choices, and my vision of faith.

Now, Jesus puts his finger in my ears that easily grow wild hairs. He whispers to me even though I am hard of hearing. He meets me along the path when even my eyesight is not as clear. However, the encounter I have with him in my heart becomes sharper and wiser. My heart knows for sure. My heart knows my future and helps me forgive the past.

In September, as we see the wisdom of autumn, I am content to cherish the changing colors of the trees. My heart hears a clarion of love now when Jesus proclaims, “Be opened!”

FATHER RONALD PATRICK RAAB, CSC, serves as religious superior at Holy Cross House, a medical facility and retirement home for the Congregation of Holy Cross, Notre Dame, Indiana. Learn more at www.ronaldraab.com.