24

Paralysis.

It was standing room only. Jesus and the boys were back in town. Hearing this everyone showed up at his house to take in his wisdom and bask some in his rising profile.

Five friends got there late. Who could blame them, considering four of them had to carry the paralyzed fifth. Their friend couldn’t walk, and out of something ranging from compassion for the unfortunate friend to the reasonably selfish desire to start getting all five of them to parties on time, the friends carried him to Jesus to see if he could heal him.

When they found the door blocked and even the windows obscured by eager listeners, they improvised. Climbing the outside stairs of the home, they carried their friend to the roof and yanked a few tiles out of the mortar. Jesus’ sermon was suddenly interrupted by the limp form of a man in a halo of sunlit dust dropping through the ceiling.

A few close to Jesus sprang to assist the human marionette safely descend to the floor. The friends looked down eagerly through the new hatch to determine Jesus’ level of irritability.

Jesus smiled back at them. Acts of courageous, innovative compassion always trump a sermon.

There in the middle of the room lay a crippled, motionless man in the glow of a makeshift skylight. What does the healer say to a man needing healed?

Heavenly Father heal his legs?

Dude, just walk already?

Neither.

He says, “Son, your sins are forgiven.” Jesus went first into the man’s mind while everyone else stared at his withered feet. I hate it when God doesn’t address the problems I present.

An immediate sense of scandal arose for the Biblically educated men in the room. Forgiving sins is God’s job. This Jesus was a good teacher but he was playing with fire now. Jesus asked them about it. And after a religious debate failed to get off the ground, the paralyzed man did. Jesus has the man “arise”.

The same word used elsewhere in the New Testament for those waking up and getting out of bed. The same word used to describe the dead living again.

The paralytic man is a man who cannot walk. But the story isn’t chiefly a story of a man having his legs healed as though that’s the programmed outcome of forgiveness. I’m sure there have been plenty of paralyzed readers of this story who have accepted that there are depths to plumb beyond the plain reading. And those depths might go like this: The paralyzed man’s guilt and shame and the burden of condemnation that renders us all unable to “walk,” needed lifted.

“Son,” said Jesus to a man who the text depicts as being toted around by friends rather than family, ”your sins have been cast out. You’re free.”

Then, and only then apparently, can the man arise and take responsibility for his journey. After finding out that his burden of guilt was damaging himself, not Christ.

To the man lying motionless on Christ’s rug, and in some way to us, he says,

You know you’re forgiven?

You know you don’t have to be a slave to the lowest parts of yourself and society anymore?

You know the shame you carry wasn’t assigned to you by anyone with authority?

Off the floor, son!

Get up, daughter!

Stand up and walk!

Get up, daughter!

You’re free! Go and be this same healing Love!

I can’t count how many times I have marinated in simmering remorse for days – months! -because I was sure I had hurt someone with my words. With a forgotten date. With an offhanded comment made about someone who wasn’t in the room but who heard about it later. Then I am face to face with them, the consequences of my lack of consideration burning in my chest, paralyzing me.

And they say, “Dude, it’s no big deal at all. I never gave it a second thought.”

Or, “Yeah, it stung a little but I got over it. Seriously, we’re cool.”

Or, “I’m still mad. I still don’t know why you did that. But, thanks for apologizing. Maybe we can talk more about it later.”

Suddenly I’m on my feet rather than stuck on my back. Formerly lifeless limbs of the Body, tingling, renewing their connection as unique but integrated parts of the whole. Movement returns.

And I give this same gift to others when I forgive. When I forgive, I relieve a burden and put you and I back on our feet together. We are as people of faith a liberation people after all, given the power to liberate. Love made in the image of Love to do what Love does; frees captives. Forgiveness is an Exodus. Withheld forgiveness a hardhearted maintaining of slaves.

“If you forgive others for their wrongdoings, your heavenly Father will also forgive you. But if you do not forgive, don’t pretend you get to participate halfway in the circuitry of Grace.”