Late one night, a cheerful truck driver pulled into a roadside diner for a coffee break. The atmosphere in the diner suddenly grew tense when three wild looking cyclists, wearing dirty black leather jackets trimmed in metal, walked in. Immediately, they targeted the truck driver. One poured salt on his head; another flipped his doughnut on the floor, while the third “accidentally” bumped the coffee onto the driver’s lap. The driver didn’t say a thing. He merely got up, walked slowly to the cashier, calmly paid his bill and left. “Man, that doodle ain’t much of a fighter,” sneered one of the cyclists. The waiter behind the counter peered out the window and replied, “He doesn’t seem to be much of a driver either. He just ran his truck over three motorcycles!”
Getting even is the name of the game many of us play whenever we have been victimized by someone. Buried in scripture, we find lines, such as from Leviticus, “an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth,” to justify such an attitude. On the surface, getting even may seem so freeing, but in fact, revenge paralyzes us. When we refuse to forgive, we remain paralyzed by a past event.
Perhaps that is why Mark provides us with such an unusual setting in today’s gospel. Being a man of few words, he doesn’t tell us why the man was paralyzed but there had to be a link between the paralytic’s condition and his life-style. His actions likely caused his condition. Our actions and the choices we make do have unavoidable consequences and effects. That is one reason why many bystanders show little mercy to those struck down by diseases supposedly caused by their own behavior. In biblical times, many viewed illness as a punishment for sin. Maybe that is why the crowd would not bother to make room for the paralytic to come through the front door. I could picture some saying, “It serves you right!” Their attitude brings to mind another saying, “You made your bed and now you must lie in it.” But we hear Jesus saying instead, “Take up your bed and walk. Your sins are forgiven.”
I imagine the paralytic and his friends were as surprised as the scribes when Jesus said, “My child, your sins are forgiven.” This was not the cure they made such a scene to obtain, yet anyone who has labored under the experience of guilt, shame or disbelief can identify with being spiritually paralyzed and the freedom that comes from experiencing forgiveness.
The word forgiveness or one of its variations appears nearly 150 times in the Bible. As you might expect, next to the theme of God’s love, forgiveness is the single most prominent theme in the New Testament. Mark wastes little time bringing that theme to our attention with the opening lines of his second chapter by linking healing with forgiveness.
The scribes protested Jesus’ actions, asserting that only God can forgive sins. In addition, the paralytic had not confessed to any wrong doing, so what gives? Mark tells us, “Jesus immediately knew in his mind what they were thinking to themselves.” Most likely, he also knew what was going through the mind of the paralytic as well, namely a change of heart that was freeing him from his spiritual paralysis. He was ready to seek forgiveness. Thus in the end, Jesus could tell him, “Rise, pick up your mat and walk.”
None of us are physically paralyzed but how often have we found ourselves spiritually paralyzed? Gripped by an irrational anger that fuels a refusal to forgive or seek forgiveness, we find ourselves in a rut with our relationship, not only with the person who has victimized us or the one whom we have victimized but also with God. Is there a sibling or cousin, parent or child, in your life whom you have not spoken to perhaps in years because of some past hurt, injury, affront, or misunderstanding?
The paralytic personifies us crippled not only by our sins but also by our reluctance to celebrate the art of forgiveness. Jesus uses this miracle to enable us to see that forgiveness can be healing. While the scribes may be right in claiming that only God can forgive sins, if we are to fully experience divine forgiveness, then we must practice the art of forgiveness as well. Many times for a penance, I will tell people to slowly and reflectively say the Lord’s Prayer, then keep the promise they have just made. Some people will looked at me puzzled, but others quickly recall the line I have in mind, “forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us.” I encourage the penitent to then pray for everyone that comes to mind who is in need of their forgiveness and to pray for those whose forgiveness they need. Through prayer, they take that first step toward forgiving and being forgiven.
When we are willing to forgive or seek forgiveness, we can break down the walls of separation and we can bring about healing in our relationships, healing the broken hearted.
Recall the last line from Isaiah when God told the Israelites, “Your sins I remember no more.” Fortunately for us, God has selective memory. Some of us find forgiving nearly impossible because we cannot forget the hurt, but bear in mind, forget and forgive do not mean the same thing. So what do we gain by forgiving others? Like the actions of God toward the Israelites, Jesus frees the paralytic and us from the past, opening a brand new start in life. Forgiveness makes possible a whole new relationship with God, not only directly, but also indirectly through the restored relations in our lives as well. Simply put, we need not remain paralyzed by wounded relationships. Forgiveness offers us a new start in life, so leave here, as convinced as the paralytic, that Jesus has come to offer you a new lease on life, a lease that allows no room for revenge of any kind.