It wasn’t my idea. My brother in
law, Reuben, first suggested it. He meant well, I knew that, but I knew how his
mind was working. It wasn’t easy for them, having a paralytic in the family. I
couldn’t work or help out in any way. I was just a drain on the family purse, a
useless mouth to feed. And then there were the whispers, all those who were
sure they knew the reason that God had allowed me to suffer this way. What hidden
family shame had brought this about? I’d learnt to pretend that none of that
mattered to me, to brush it off, yet inside I couldn’t help asking the same
thing. Why does God despise me so much to make me this way? So I was happy to
hide away in the shadows, away from the judging eyes of others even if I couldn’t
hide from my own self doubt.
I was full of dread, then,
when Reuben said he could take me to see Jesus. I had heard the rumours of course; not
even I could avoid talk of the miracles they said he was doing. The blind
seeing, lepers healed, madmen made sane, incredible stuff. Reuben said they
could take me, he and his friends, and maybe Jesus could make me walk. The last
thing I wanted was to be paraded in front of the crowd but the thing about
being a paralytic is that you don’t really get much say. They just picked up
the mat I was lying on and set off carrying me through the town.
It must have been quite a sight,
but I needn’t have worried. There was hardly anyone around, at first anyway,
and those that were did not bother with me. They, like us, were all heading one
way. When we started to get close to the place where Jesus was, the crowds
became packed. Progress was difficult. Reuben and his friends pushed and shoved
and elbowed their way forward, and I just sat there, a useless lump.
As we arrived at the house, it
was clear we had no chance of getting in to see the man. There were just too
many people, they had no hope of even getting me through the front door. I have
to admit I was quite relieved at that point. Seeing these masses, crushing in,
I really didn’t fancy all these eyes on me, placed in front of him as a
challenge to his supposed powers. And how would I feel at his failure, even
more rejected and despised than before. So I told them to give it up, but they
had not struggled this far through these teeming throngs to give up so easily.
Elijah, Reuben’s brother,
suggested going up onto the roof. I thought he was crazy, but the other agreed.
We must have looked ridiculous; how many times did I nearly come off the mat as
they manhandled it up the steps on the side of the building? Some people from
the crowd began to laugh at our comical efforts, but somehow they managed it.
They set me down on the flat roof
and I just looked up at them with a “what now?” expression on my face. That was
when they started to dig. I couldn’t believe how determined they were. I was
just glad I wasn’t in the room below. Angry shouts came up as chunks on ceiling
began falling onto the packed crowd below.
Leaning over I could peer through
the growing hole and saw the people shifting away from the middle of the room
where the debris was falling. Suddenly my mat was lifted up and they began to
lower me through the gap, slowly, awkwardly, with the odd curse and complaint
in the process. For a moment I was left dangling, as they held me at full
stretch, then they just let go and I thumped down onto the floor, landing
painfully on some of the fallen rubble.
At first I could see nothing. In
the contrast between the bright sunlight and this shaded room, my eyes took a
few moments to adapt. The crowd had retreated, leaving me, lying in the centre,
lit up by the sunlight pouring in through the new hole in the ceiling. And
standing right in front of me was Jesus. There was no doubt it was him.
Everyone was looking at me, but his gaze was different from theirs. His eyes
were not quizzical or pitying, but like a host welcoming a guest. And there was
the broadest grin on his face, like the whole spectacle had amused him greatly.
I should have felt awkward being stared at by so many people, but I didn’t. It
seemed like it was just me and him. But it was his words that stunned me.
“Son,” he said, “your sins are
forgiven.”
Just that, a statement of fact,
simple and with no shadow of doubt, and it spoke to the deepest part of my
heart. It told me that God did not despise me or reject me, but that I was made
right with him. And I realised that in that one sentence he had given me
everything I was searching for. I didn’t care about walking. I didn’t care
about spending the rest of my life sitting on this mat. I was just so full of
joy that all my fears were wrong. I mattered to God. That was all I needed.
Reuben might feel disappointed, but I was not. I tried to say thank you, but my
mouth was so dry it came out as just a hoarse whisper.
The muttering to my left broke me
out of this precious moment. I noticed a group of priests, looking shocked and
affronted. I couldn’t work out why, but clearly Jesus knew. He turned to look
at them, not cowed by their religious superiority, but confident, the grin
still on his face.
“What’s your problem?” he said to
them. “Oh I forgot, it is impossible for a man to forgive sins; only God can do
that. Just like only God could make this man get up and walk.” Slowly he shook
his head, like a father disappointed at his child’s behaviour. “Ok,” he
continued, “just so you know.” And he turned back to me.
“Go on,” he said kindly, reaching
out his hand to me. “Get up and walk home.” I don’t remember thinking about it.
I had never stood before, but I don’t recall thinking about how to do it. I
just took his hand and stood up. It seemed like the most natural thing to do,
but a gasp went round the whole room. He steadied me with a gentle hand on my
arm. “Don’t forget your mat,” he chuckled. Then he turned back to the teachers
and declared fiercely, “Now you know the authority with which I speak!”
At that a huge cheer went up.
People were shouting and praising God. They pushed back in, patting me on the
back, sweeping me out of the room. I didn’t want to go. I wanted to stay with
Jesus, but the crowd carried me out into the sunshine on my slightly unsteady
legs.
