Jesus Heals the Paralytic

I’d like to read a brief passage from the beginning of the Gospel of Mark, first of all in Mark chapter 1 and then again in Mark chapter 2. And Mark records that at the end of a day of ministry—

“That evening at sundown they brought to [Jesus] all who were sick or oppressed by demons. And the whole city was gathered together at the door. And he healed many who were sick with various diseases, and cast out many demons. And he would not permit the demons to speak, because they knew him.

“And rising very early in the morning, while it was still dark, he departed and went out to a desolate place, and there he prayed. And Simon and those who were with him searched for him, and they found him and said to him, ‘Everyone is looking for you.’ And he said to them, ‘Let us go on to the next towns, that I may preach there also, for that is why I came out.’ And he went throughout all Galilee, preaching in their synagogues and casting out demons.”

And then when you get into the beginning of chapter 2, Jesus has “returned to Capernaum.” Having done so “after some days, it was reported that he was at home. And many were gathered together, so that there was no more room, not even at the door. And he was preaching the word to them. And they came, bringing to him a paralytic carried by four men. And when they could not get near him because of the crowd, they removed the roof above him, and when they had made an opening, they let down the bed on which the paralytic lay. And when Jesus saw their faith, he said to the paralytic, ‘Son, your sins are forgiven.’ Now some of the scribes were sitting there, questioning in their hearts, ‘Why does this man speak like that? He is blaspheming! Who can forgive sins but God alone?’ And immediately Jesus, perceiving in his spirit that they thus questioned within themselves, said to them, ‘Why do you question these things in your hearts? Which is easier, to say to the paralytic, “Your sins are forgiven,” or to say, “Rise, take up your bed and walk”? But that you may know that the Son of Man has authority on earth to forgive sins’—he said to the paralytic—‘I say to you, rise, pick up your bed, and go home.’ And he rose and immediately picked up his bed and went out before them all, so that they were all amazed and glorified God, saying, ‘We never saw anything like this!’”

Thanks be to God for his Word.

A brief prayer:

Father, what we know not, teach us; what we have not, give us; what we are not, make us. For Jesus’ sake. Amen.

Now, Mark’s Gospel, of course, begins without any of the birth narratives. It starts with John the Baptist and introduces us very quickly to Jesus. And Jesus steps forward, and he announces to the people who are listening to him, “The time is fulfilled, … the kingdom of God is at hand; repent and believe … the [good news].”[1] And then, as we read in the opening section of Mark 1, Jesus engages in a variety of ministry with the people. And, as Mark records it for us, it was a day of tremendous success and encouragement, both numerically and also in terms of the physical and psychological and emotional transformation that was brought about in the lives of those who were impaired in various ways.

And then Mark says that early in the following morning, “while it was still dark,” when most people were still in their beds, Jesus was up, and he was engaged in prayer. His followers come looking for him, and they announce to him, essentially, “Everything has gone really, really well, Jesus, and the whole place is buzzing with what you’ve done. And we are excited about this, and we are glad that we’ve found you so that we can keep things going, because they’ve gone off to a terrific start.” They were quite unprepared for what Jesus then said to them. He said, “Let’s get out of here.” He said, “We’re going to move on. We’re going to move on so that I can go to other places and preach there also.”

You see, Jesus was aware of the fact that it was possible for people immediately to be attracted to him for the wrong reasons. And so he wants to make sure that his immediate followers understand his purpose. And the Gospel writer makes it perfectly clear—classically so (and this is why I’ve chosen to go to chapter 2) in this story of the arrival of a paralyzed man. If you’ve been brought up in church, you’ll be familiar with this story. You maybe have done pictures of it when you were a child in Sunday school. If you have never read it before, then it will come across with great forcefulness, I’m sure—not because I’m saying it but because of the Bible itself.

Four individuals, we’re told, were carrying this man. They were clearly determined to make sure that they got him to Jesus. The crowd that had gathered now that he was back in Capernaum was a significant crowd, so much so, Mark says, that there wasn’t room in the place, and there really wasn’t access to the place. And so, I suppose if the four characters had been lacking in initiative, they would simply have looked at the man, forlorn, and said, “You know, at least we got to the house. There’s no way that we can get in. Why don’t we just take you back again, and we’ll try on another day?”

But actually, no. These are pretty inventive characters, and they decide that what they’re going to do is go down through the roof. That’s fairly dramatic, isn’t it? I mean, they’re not pulling off shingles or slate—a mixture of vegetation and twigs and clay and so on. But you can imagine the scene within the place as all of a sudden, Jesus is speaking, and there’s just sort of fiddling around going on up in the roof. And then, eventually, a hole appears, and some vegetation falls down on the people who are sitting there, and amazingly, all of a sudden, the gap is big enough for one of these four characters’ face to be peering down. And if you’re the kind of person that doesn’t like interruptions at church, you will be feeling the hair rise on the back of your neck at this kind of interruption: “What’s up with these people? Why are they up there?” The concern that they have is obviously a deep-seated concern, but all of the physicality of it is subservient to the dialogue that is about to take place.

Now, just try and picture it if you can. There they are with dirt in their hair, sweat on their faces, and they have literally manhandled the person into the presence of Jesus. They lower him down through the roof; presumably, they let the ropes drop; and then they wait to see what Jesus will do.

Jesus wants for you the thing that matters most, and that is that we should be restored to our right relationship with God.

Now, neither the four men nor anybody else in the room, presumably, was ready for what they were about to hear. What had taken place was a dramatic intervention in the circumstance, but the statement made by Jesus is a provocative statement. He looks at the individual who is now lying on this bed, the paralyzed man, and he says to him, “Son, your sins are forgiven.”

Now, if you think about that for just a moment, it really doesn’t make any sense at all, does it? I mean, if the four fellows that had dropped the ropes were looking in—as presumably they were—and listening in, they would have said to one another, “We brought this man here for a visible change, not for an invisible forgiveness. We didn’t bring him here to get his sins forgiven. We brought him here to get his legs. That’s his real need. That’s why we carried him. That’s why we broke open the roof.” What a strange and peculiar thing to say! “Son, your sins are forgiven.” Surely, such a response is inappropriate if not actually irrelevant.

Now, as we read the story, we’re then forced to ask ourselves, “Why did Jesus tell the man his sins were forgiven?” There’s nothing in the story to suggest that the reason for the man’s illness was on account of his sin. And the Bible actually warns, classically in the book of Job, about the danger of equating somebody’s physical circumstances directly with sin in their lives. That’s what the supposed friends of Job did, and they got it so horribly wrong. And we will most of the time get it wrong too. So there’s no correlation that is suggested between the fact that the man can’t walk and the fact that the man is a sinner.

So what is Jesus doing? Well, clearly, the reason Jesus said what he said was because he was putting his finger on the man’s real need—and everyone’s real need—which is the need for forgiveness. His presenting problem was not a matter of disinterest to Jesus. He was not unconcerned about his physical condition. In fact, as the story continues, he healed the man. And he’s not unconcerned about your condition this morning: about your health, or your marriage, or your job, or your studies, or your security. He is a gentle and a kind and a tender Shepherd and is interested in these things. But the priority in your life, as in the life of this man, is the need for forgiveness. Jesus, you see, wants for you the thing that matters most, and that is that we should be restored to our right relationship with God—which is why Jesus came. We used to sing in Scotland,

He [did not] come to judge the world, He [did not] come to blame,
He [did not] only come to seek; it was to save He came;
And when we call him Saviour, then we call Him by His name.[2]

And in this man’s life—waking up in the morning, being literally picked up by his friends, who took him off to Jesus—he, his wife, his family, and the four good friends that traveled with him there would all have agreed: The whole reason for this venture is on account of his physical predicament. Makes sense!

And there are people around today who think that that’s all that Jesus has come to do: to add to the sum of your total happiness, to take some of your little problems and fiddle with them and fix them as best he can. You may have decided that Jesus is simply a life coach: You can get on fairly well, but it’s nice to have somebody helping you, as if they were helping you with a fitness training program or whatever else it is. And all of those things are available and possible and understandable, but they’re not the essence as to why Jesus came.

And, of course, the religious authorities, they had got it immediately. And that’s why we’re told about the conflict. The intervention has been amazing, the statement made by Jesus is provocative, and then the religious orthodoxy, “the scribes” who “were sitting there,” began to question “in their hearts.”

It’s quite interesting when you read the beginning of the Gospel of Mark, because Jesus is immediately opposed. He’s opposed first of all, remember, by the Evil One, who tempts him in the wilderness. Then he’s opposed by the demons, who call out in opposition to him in the synagogue and beyond. But here he is, in the context of a home, expressing compassion and forgiveness, and he is opposed by the religious establishment. He’s opposed by the theology department. He’s opposed by the people who are apparently on the side of whatever this Jesus came to do. You would expect that they would be the ones who would be going, “Now, we’re so thrilled that Jesus is here today, and thank you for letting him down through the roof,” and so on. No! But immediately they look at one another, and they begin to say, “This is absolutely absurd. Who can forgive sins except God alone?”

Well, you would expect the theology department to understand that. There’s nothing wrong with their theology, is there? They know that only God can forgive sins. That’s right. But, you see, they had concluded therefore that this Jesus of Nazareth, this upstart prophet, must somehow or another be guilty of blasphemy. Why? Because they are unwilling to entertain the alternative solution, which is that Jesus Christ is none other than God incarnate.

Now, let me just pause and say to you young people here this morning that either he, is or he isn’t. And there’s no middle ground. Either the New Testament is authoritative truth, or it is the record of a lie. It is an amazing hoax—the best the world has ever encountered. There wouldn’t be one page of the New Testament ever written were it not, first of all, for the existence of Jesus and, secondly, for the resurrection of Jesus. If Jesus Christ had never risen from the dead, none of us would even know that he exists. I’m convinced of it. Who would have cared? Who would care today, two thousand years on, about a Galilean carpenter who did and said some amazing things, so far away, so long gone? What has it got to do with Ohio today? What has it got to do with me? Well, it has everything to do if this Jesus is alive. And the Pharisees said, “Well, there’s no possibility that we’re dealing with anything here other than an upstart.”

No, Jesus knew they had some questions. And so he’s not concerned by this. He has a question for them. Verse 8: “Why do you question these things in your hearts?” Well, they must have looked at one another and said, “How did he know that?” But anyway, he did. And knowing what they were thinking, he challenged them to consider this: “I got a second question for you,” he says. “Which do you think is easier to say to the paralytic, ‘Your sins are forgiven,’ or ‘Take up your bed and walk’? Which do you think is easier to say?”

Well, I think it’s easier to say, “Your sins are forgiven.” Because after all, how could anybody verify it? “Your sins are forgiven.” “Oh, thank you very much!” But if you say, “Take up your bed and walk,” and the guy’s still lying there twenty minutes later, you got a bit of a problem. So Jesus says, “It’s harder, actually, to say, ‘Your sins are forgiven,’ because of the nature of forgiveness. But you think that’s probably the easier thing to say. And I’ve already said the easy part to him: ‘Son, your sins are forgiven.’ So now let me say the difficult part. And let me say it so that you might know that the Son of Man”—which was a messianic designation—“that the Son of Man has authority on earth to forgive sins. Let me say the harder thing: Take up your bed and walk.”

Now, of course, as you read forward in the Gospels, as you read on in the Gospels, you recognize the fact that what appeared to be easy, or what was easy to say, was achieved at great cost—that Jesus was anticipating his death on the cross, whereby it would be possible for forgiveness to be granted to those who turn to him in repentance and in faith. And so, having said, “I say to you, rise, [and take] up your bed, and go home,”[3] verse 12 says, “And he rose and immediately picked up his bed and went out before them all.”

I just wish I could have been there for that. I wish we had a video of this. Talk about how many hits it would have on YouTube! Goodness gracious! It would be unbelievable! You can see the fellow—and the chaps up on the roof, they probably almost fell through the hole in the roof when they realized what’s going on. And he picks up whatever his bed was, and he walks out in full view of them all. There’s no some secretive little thing, you know, that “Well, we don’t know if he’s healed or he’s not healed. Jesus asked everybody to leave—‘while every head is bowed and your eyes are closed’ kind of thing, you know. And they squeezed him out the back door. We’ve never seen him again.” No, no, no, no! He takes up his bed, and he walks out in full view of them all.

And presumably, he walked up the garden path! And his wife must have been in there making the soup, and suddenly she says to herself, “Goodness, that looked like my man there! But it couldn’t possibly be, because when he left with his friends, he was horizontal.” And she sent one of the boys: “Is that your dad out there?” And the boy comes back, “You’re not going to believe this! You’re not… Look! Come here!” And there he stands!

Now, imagine we could get him back here to do the benediction (which is coming real soon). Imagine we could get him back here to do the benediction and I had a chance just to ask him, to interview him—say, “Hey, tell me a little bit about that day.” What do you think he would say? I’d think he’d say something like this: “There’s no question in my mind that when the fellows picked me up that morning to take me there, all I was concerned about was my legs. If this Jesus can heal people, I wanted him to heal me. But in actual fact, having spent some time in heaven for quite a while before I came back to do the benediction, I have to tell you that my real need was to have my sins forgiven.” And he would have said, “And that’s why I’m glad you had those songs this morning. Because I was singing right along with you: ‘And as I stand’—stand—‘in victory, sin’s curse has lost its grip on me.’[4] That’s why I was glad to sing, ‘And when I think that God, his Son not sparing, sent him to die, I scarce can take it.’[5] That’s why I was glad to sing, ‘Take my legs, but give me Jesus.’”

Do you know Jesus in this way? You’re at a Christian institution. You’re surrounded by all of these things.

“Jesus, the whole place is buzzing.” He said, “We’re out of here. Let’s go somewhere that I can tell this good news in the other towns and villages, so that men and women might know that I didn’t come to judge or to blame but to save.”

And I guess you can verify my take on this if, by grace, you and I are gathered into that new heaven and that new earth, and somewhere in that new heaven and the new earth, you’re sitting at Starbucks, and you say to the guy, “So tell me a little bit about yourself,” and he says, “Well, really, the big thing in my life was the day that I got my legs back. But that was nothing compared to the fact that my sins were forgiven.”

Young people, this is the message. This is your privilege: to believe it, to live it, to study in the light of it, to share it widely.

Father, thank you that the Bible is a lamp to our feet, a light to our path.[6] Thank you that it corrects our faulty thinking and introduces us to the wonder of the love of the Lord Jesus Christ. For you, gracious God, loved the world so much that you gave your only Son in order that whoever believes in him should not perish but have everlasting life.[7]

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[1] Mark 1:15 (ESV).

[2] Dora Greenwell, “A Good Confession,” in Songs of Salvation (London, 1874), 27.

[3] Mark 2:11 (ESV).

[4] Stuart Townend and Keith Getty, “In Christ Alone” (2001). Lyrics lightly altered.

[5] Carl Boberg, trans. Stuart Keen Hine, “How Great Thou Art” (1885, 1949).

[6] See Psalm 119:105.

[7] See John 3:16.