St. Andrew's Presbyterian Church

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Hmmmmm . . .

Mark 2:1-12

February 19, 2006        (Click this link to see the bulletin)

1. What is the hardest questions you’ve ever tried to answer? In case one doesn’t come readily to your mind, I do have a few contenders: Why do we drive on parkways, and park on driveways? Hmmm. Why is it called a "building" when it’s already built? Hmmmm. Why is lipstick called "lipstick" when you can still move your lips? Hmmmm. Why is the person who invests all your money called a broker? Hmmmmm. Why are there always innocent bystanders but no guilty bystanders? Hmmmm. When it snowed yesterday, everything turned white. So where will all the white go when the snow melts? Hmmmm. What was the best thing before sliced bread? Hmmmm. What is the speed of dark? Hmmm. "Which is easier, to say to a paralytic, ‘Your sins are forgiven,’ or to say to that same paralytic, ‘Stand up and take your mat and walk.’ Hmmmmm.

2. All but one of those questions are floating around from one person to another. They’re just for fun. The real hard question is that last one – you recognize it from the Scripture I just read. It comes from Jesus’ own mouth. "Which is easier, to say to a paralytic, ‘Your sins are forgiven,’ or to say, ‘Stand up and take your mat and walk.’" There are two distinct parts to this hard question, and Mark combines them into one story. The first part is the issue of forgiveness. Forgiveness was probably uppermost in Jesus’ mind. Very likely he had been preaching the same thing John preached along the Jordan River – proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins. But there are some religious authorities in this crowd today, and they are not pleased. According to their tradition, only God can forgive sin, and there are elaborate rituals to assure this. It is the scribes’ duty to make certain these rituals are done correctly, but Jesus forgives with a word, without telling him to go to the priests and offer the proper sacrifices. Dum-de-dum-dum. The plot thickens. Mark is giving us a hint of things to come.

3. The second part of this hard question concerns paralysis. The Merriam-Webster Dictionary defines a paralytic as someone who has partial or total loss of motion or sensation or feeling; someone who has lost the ability to move; someone who is powerless to act. Paralyzed. I know a little bit about being paralyzed. My daughter was totally paralyzed for several months. For a while, even her face was paralyzed – she could not move either her lips or her eyebrows. She was 10 years old at the time, and one scared little girl. I could see the fear in her eyes. Her mind was in perfect condition, and I knew what she was thinking. What if a fire broke out? She couldn’t move! She couldn’t stop, drop and roll. Would she burn up? Or what if a flood came? She couldn’t swim. Would she drown? And what if no one brought her any food? Would she starve? Fortunately, she had family and friends around who loved her, and doctors and nurses who knew what to do. She had people who kept her safe until she could walk again. But for many long months, she was totally dependent on the people around her.

4. Such was the life of the paralytic in this story. He was probably one of the 1,500 residents of Capernaum. His friends picked him up and carried him over to Jesus’ house when they heard he was back home after his short road trip. I want to tell you a bit about this home. Home for Jesus would have been a small one-story house made of stones, with a narrow staircase outside leading up to the roof. The roof itself would have been made of sticks and grass covered with mud. The National Geographic Channel has been running a series called "Science of the Bible," and shows the archeological digs that unearthed first-century Capernaum with the very houses Jesus and the first disciples lived in. The producers of the show reenacted this story from Mark -- people jammed in that room and pushing against each other outside the door; the voice of Jesus speaking to them. The only thing left to our imaginations was the smell of all those human bodies crammed into one room with only one small window. It wouldn’t have mattered to them – it might be a bit overwhelming to us, tho! It was into this packed predicament that people brought a paralytic.

5. Thank God he had people around him who cared, too. Four of them carried him to the house. What an act of love! No telling how much he weighed, or how far they had to carry him. And when they couldn’t get through the door, they must have thought, "Oh, NO? Now what’ll we do?" Then someone thought of the roof. So they lugged him up those narrow steps to the roof, where they used their hands to claw through the mud and sticks and grass to make a hole big enough to lower him to the place where Jesus was. Not because their friend was a Very Important Person; not because he could pay them back fourfold, but because the love of God was at work through them. My goodness! What a miracle!

6. There are still miraculous healings today. But what about those who were not healed? What about people whose diseases or disabilities remain with them? Does that mean they don’t have the right kind of friends? Does that mean they don’t have enough faith? Far from it! Healing can take place in a body, but sometimes bodies simply cannot be fixed. When bodies cannot be fixed, healing takes place in the soul, deep down where God does his best work. About twenty years ago a young and very busy successful executive named Josh was traveling down a Chicago neighborhood street. He was traveling a bit fast in his sleek, black, 16 cylinder Jaguar XKE, which was only two months old at the time. But he was careful. He watched for kids darting out from between parked cars, and slowed down when he spied a pair of legs between two cars. As his car passed the opening where the legs were, a brick sailed and – whump – smashed into his Jag’s shiny black side door. SCREECH, his brakes slammed, gears ground into reverse, tires madly spun the Jaguar back to the spot from which the brick came. Josh jumped out of the car, grabbed the kid and pushes him up against a parked car. He shouted at him, "Just what was that about? Who do you think you are?" Building up a big head of steam, he continued, "That’s my new car! That brick is going to cost you plenty. Why on earth did you throw it?" "Please . . . please, mister, I’m sorry. I didn’t know what else to do. I threw the brick because that’s the only way I could get someone to stop." Tears were dripping down the boy’s chin as he pointed around the parked car. "It’s my brother, mister. "He fell out of his wheelchair and I can’t lift him up." Sobbing, the boy asked the Jag’s new owner, "Would you please help him back into his wheelchair? He’s too heavy for me." Stunned to the bone, the very busy successful executive tried desperately to swallow the rapidly swelling lump in his throat. He helped the youngster set the wheelchair upright, and the two of them lifted his brother back into the chair. It was a long, long walk back to the sleek, shiny, black 16-cylinder Jaguar XKE – a long and slow walk. Josh never did fix the side door of his Jaguar. It stayed there and reminded him not to go through life so fast that someone had to throw a brick at him to get his attention.

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