The paralysed man speaks

Today I am going to do something.  I don’t quite know what it is yet, but I do know I’m going to do something!  And I’m going to thoroughly enjoy doing it too!

You know, for as long as I can remember, I have never done anything!  Everything has always been done for me.  For all the time that counts, I’ve been carried by other people.  But not anymore!  I’m not a cripple anymore! And today, one thing’s for sure; I’m going to get on and do something!

Now yesterday, as usual, I didn’t do anything.  I didn’t so much as lift a finger to help myself.  Never have.  I’m ashamed to admit it (and I didn’t realize until now) just how dependent I had become on other people and how I’d given in to resignation.  I guess, in a way, I just copped out. I’d given up trying.  Well, wouldn’t you in the circumstances?  My body was totally useless. You’ve heard it said; “couldn’t even go to the toilet by himself!”   How humiliating!  And it’s so easy just to lie down and let it overcome you; to give up, abandoning all pride and determination.  That’s what I did.  I let others bear the burden and responsibility.

I have to say, I’ve got some terrific friends!  I mean it, I have!  But what can I tell you about them?  Over the years, they have lived for me.  And I mean that, not just as a comment on the time and devotion they have given me, but as a straightforward fact: they lived for me.  Long after I had given up, they were my soul, my spirit, my life.  They didn’t just care for me – carrying me everywhere, feeding me, dressing me – it went deeper than that.  They hoped for me, believed for me.  They lived for me. 

At times I was past caring.  I was content to sit and let it all pass me by.  But they would never let me give up.  I cursed them.  Threw back in their face all the love they gave to me.  Told them to get lost and never come back any more.    What I would have done if they had actually listened to what I said, I just don’t know.  But they didn’t.  They were determined not to let this bitter and stubborn old crock get the best of them.  And I love them for it!

Mind you, what they did yesterday went way beyond all that.  Our conversations recently had often been about Jesus.  The news and rumours were everywhere and the wonders he was said to have performed are amazing. 

And yesterday they all came running.  “He’s here!” they declared, as they instantly stooped down and picked me up, bed and all.

“Who is here?” I asked, once I’d gained my composure and got used to the balance of my stretcher.

“You know, Jesus!” they said, “And we’re going to take you to him!”

Of course, I protested.  “Oh, put me down and leave me alone!  What do I want to be bothered with Jesus for?  And why should he be bothered with me?”  But they just laughed and carried on walking.  And very quickly I gave up protesting.  I never had the gumption to keep it up for long.  Let them do with me what they want – that had been the way of my life.

What happened next was really quite embarrassing!  The crowd was enormous, and we just could not get through. I just shrugged as people turned and glared at us for pushing, and I rather hoped we would about face and head for home.  But, after a quick confab, we were off again.  They got me round the back and up onto the roof.  Then, to my horror, they started pulling the roof apart and making a hole – to let me see and listen, I thought at the time.  (Not that I could have listened much.  In some ways I was gratified by what they were doing, but the thought of one angry owner storming up about his roof rather overshadowed all that and disturbed my limited concentration!  It was alright for them, they could run!  But I would have been left to carry the can, and, thanks lads, I didn’t fancy that at all.) 

When I suggested they should stop, they wouldn’t, of course.  In fact, they told me to shut up, or they’d stick a big bit of roof tile in my mouth!  Not fancying that, I gave up.  I was never for one for an argument anyway.  And with them so determined, I knew that I would lose. So I lay back and let them have their way.

For a moment, I despaired when it became obvious that their way involved dropping me down through the hole they had made in the roof!  But what could I do?  I looked back blankly at the surprised faces who stared as I was lowered down.  And when I hit the floor, I just lay there, saying nothing; resigned to what might happen (and secretly planning to murder my friends when they came to pick me up once their little joke was over!)

When the kerfuffle had died down, I realised all eyes in the room were fixed on one man, and it wasn’t me. There were rabbis there, as well as ordinary people, but all of them were looking to Jesus.  What would he do?

I, too, turned my head to look to him.  I saw that he was looking up at the hole in the roof.  He searched the faces of my friends and, without a word passing between them, I could see that He understood.  He gave a quick glance in my direction, then a gentle smile and a nod to them.  Even I was moved to see how their anxious, quivering faces calmed and lit up in response.

So once again I lay there, exposed and waiting. It was like the pause while another expert assessed my case. ‘OK, Doctor Jesus, it’s your turn now!’ 

Placed in some else’s hands yet again, I could relax, thinking little could be required of me.  But I was wrong!  And I was totally shocked by what he then said to me. Everyone was shocked by what he then said to me. I mean, you don’t go around saying that sort of thing – no man does – but Jesus came straight out with it.  He looked me in the eye, his gaze penetrating deeply, as though He was reading me.  And then he declared: “My son, your sins are forgiven!”

“My son, your sins are forgiven!”  It was then that the atmosphere in the room turned rather cold.  No-one said a word, and the force of that stony-cold silence was incredible.  All eyes were now turned to the teachers, sat in the front row to listen and to test.  And it wasn’t just me that saw it, everybody did: the rage rising in their cheeks; the venom in their eyes.  They judged that they had heard blasphemy and the explosion was about to come.

I suppose I should have been frightened, caught up in the middle of it, but I wasn’t.  Not because of my usual apathy and stoicism; it was something very different this time.  “My son, your sins are forgiven…’  The moment Jesus spoke those words, something happened to me.  I don’t know what it was exactly, but the best way that I can put it is to say that somehow the fight came back into me.  My self-preoccupation and self-pity drained away.  Purpose, hope and determination flowed in.  It was a bit like being raised from the dead. 

I was being brought back to life!  Changed, renewed, reborn completely.  And when the teachers muttered angrily to themselves that “Only God can forgive sins”, I knew they were right and I knew that he had.

When Jesus spoke again it was to the teachers, and he was angry and defiant. Oddly enough, I felt that same defiance rise within me. I was with Him all the way as he spoke, laying out the challenge before them.  Determination welled up inside me the like of which I had never known before, and when he turned to me and told me to get up, pick up my bed and go home … I jolly well got up and did it!  Yes, I did!

I didn’t have to wait for my friends this time; I just upped and went, as he told me to. And it wasn’t until I was half way home that I realized exactly what was happening.  I was walking; at a pace too!  And I, who had always been carried, was actually carrying my bed.

Doing something for myself for the first time ever!  Standing on my own two feet!

My friends didn’t catch up with me until I reached home, but when they did, then boy, did we party!  I hugged each one of them, and we laughed and we sang and we shouted!  My joy was their joy, and they all danced about as though it was them that had been healed and not me!  But then, in a way, I guess it was. 

I don’t suppose I shall be needing them so much now, but I’ll love them all the more, that’s for certain.  I’ll never be able to thank them enough for all they’ve done, especially in taking me to meet Jesus.  ‘But that’s what friends are for’, they say.

So, what am I going to do today?  I know, I’ll get the lads together and we’ll go and see about mending that roof before it rains!  I can’t expect anyone else to do it.  It’s my responsibility and I’m not going to shirk out on this one.  Thanks to Jesus I will stand on my own two feet!