Unexpressed Rebuke, Unspoken Faith in Mark 2:1-12

Raphael, St. Peter Healing a Lame Man, Tapestry

As I was teaching yesterday through the story in the Gospel of Mark in which Jesus heals the lame man (2:1-12), I was struck by the abrupt nature of Jesus' proclamation that the man's sins are indeed forgiven. It is obvious to everyone at the event that the man did not come to Jesus for absolution but rather for healing of his lifelong affliction of paralysis. Jesus, however, addresses first the problem of his sin by proclaiming, "Your sins are forgiven." His health condition is of secondary import.

He is not referring to a particular sin either.  It is not as if the paralytic offended Jesus earlier in the day and now Jesus is now forgiving him. Rather, Jesus is declaring on him wholesale forgiveness for his sins.

Unexpressed Rebuke, Unspoken Faith

The scribes get the magnitude of his declaration, but they are savvy enough not to rebuke him publicly. Their rebuttal is silent. We should note that when Jesus says out loud, “Why do you question these things in your hearts?,” in Mark's telling at least, he is addressing an unexpressed rebuke. The scribes have not verbalized their complaint, but he knows their subtle, unspoken inclination to rebuke his divine authority.

And this is true of the paralytic as well. He is silent.

The most passive, quiet, inactive man in the room is the paralytic. Everyone else is doing something in the account. The friends lower him down on the stretcher.  The scribes titter in their hushed critique.  The whole scene closes on the crowd audibly glorifying God. And in the midst of all of this activity is the paralytic, unmoving, unspeaking, impotent.  He is a completely passive character, apart from the fact that at the end he stands up and leaves the room.

Jesus perceives the man's heart and calls him, “Son." In telling it this way, Mark is highlighting here a truth about Jesus, which is that he is the agent of salvation, the lone actor.  Jesus alone rightly, reliably, perceives faith in a human heart; he alone whispers his sweet sentence, “Son, your sins are all forgiven.”

Throughout this man’s whole life, he probably thought of his paralysis as his greatest curse.  It was his worst part, his most obvious lack, and his most felt need.  But Jesus engaged his most felt need in order to satisfy his deepest need. It was his paralysis that made it possible for him to come before Jesus in the only way that is appropriate.  

And this is how it works for those in the Christian life, isn’t it? Repentance and faith means presenting oneself before Jesus helpless, without excuse, without an alibi.  No “Yes, buts”--just a sinner dressed in failures, wounds, guilt, and worst moments.

That is where the Messiah meets you.  

There is a reason why the stories that Christians tell about their first meaningful encounters with Jesus so often include some sort of difficult moment in their lives, some moment when they felt helpless, afraid, lost, or abandoned.  

An elderly gentlemen close to me was a staunch agnostic until he was diagnosed with lymphoma, and fell in love with Jesus while he lay in bed, his body destroyed by chemo-therapy. He lived a new life in the years of his remission. But it isn’t always so dramatic. It can be subtle, nagging sense of dissatisfaction with all of your personal treasure, goals, broken relationships, and deep loneliness. Then there is a turning to God.

The paralytic’s faith that Jesus could heal him of his paralysis signifies a deeper inclination in his heart, an inclination that Jesus recognizes and lays hold of.  His felt need gave him opportunity to have his deepest need, the need for forgiveness, satisfied.

In the Gospel of John 10:27, Jesus claims, "My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me." I think that we see in Mark 2 a case of the sheep responding to his Shepherd. The knowledge is mutual.

There are really two kinds of people in this story: those who belong to Jesus and those who reject him. That fact is made clear by that way that Jesus addresses each group before they even open their mouths.  He knows their hearts. 

Jesus’ salvation and his judgment is an affair of the heart.

The Big Show

But everyone standing in the house watching this scene unfold is waiting to see the fireworks.  They want to see a healing.

Imagine you are watching one of those reality shows where they make-over some person’s house. The person is a tragic but sympathetic character,: a volunteer fireman with ten adopted kids, who quit his job to work with disadvantaged youths in the inner city, and now he lives with his wife and ten adopted kids and elderly mother and two dogs in a double-wide.

The day of the show, the construction team shows up with a back-hoe and cameras, and the whole neighborhood is on his front lawn to shout words of encouragement. And the host approaches the fireman and says...“Your sins are forgiven.”

Huh?

People came to see the big show, and Jesus gives them this personal absolution, “Son, your sins are forgiven?” How about seeing this man stand up and walk?  How about you doing what everybody came out here to see you do?

So when Jesus asks “Which is easier, to say to the paralytic, 'Your sins are forgiven,' or to say, 'Rise, take up your bed and walk'?” it’s an honest question, but he alone knows the answer. He is completely alone in the knowledge of what it means to be Messiah, to be Christ. He knows the death that awaits him, and the accusation of blasphemy from the scribes must cut him like a knife because that will be the accusation that condemns him to the cross.

And so this scene sets stage for the rest of the Gospel of Mark.  Jesus standing between his accusers and the one he came to save. He perceives the hearts of the scribes; he perceives their conspiracy already taking root. 

There it is. That’s how it will happen.