THE SEVENTH SUNDAY IN ORDINARY TIME – February 19, 2012
The Book of the Prophet Isaiah – 43:18-19, 21-22, 24b-25
Paul’s Second Letter to the Corinthians 1:18-22
The Holy Gospel according to Mark 2:1-12
Stand-up comedians have a great time poking fun at Jews and Catholics for their tendency to wallow in guilt. Judging by the response the sketches elicits from the audience, the jokesters must be right on the mark. That’s too bad, isn’t it, that it is commonly accepted that Jews and Catholics are taught to live with a sense of guilt and a fear of impending judgment and doom? I can’t speak for the Jewish community, but what a shame that the message hasn’t been more clearly proclaimed to us Catholics. Maybe it has something to do with the responsibilities that would follow should we take the Good News to heart.
I remember sitting at the bedside of a dying man. He lay flat on his back, his eyes staring fixedly at the ceiling, his fingers clutching the bedclothes close to his chin. His family had asked that I visit him without letting him know that they had made the request. He gave a quick glance as I entered the room and introduced myself. Just as quickly he resumed his stare into the abyss over his head. I could see his jaw muscles clenching. “You’re wasting your time,” he said. “There’s nothing you can do for me. It’s too late.”
It’s interesting how the mind works when there is so much you don’t know. I didn’t know the man’s story. I didn’t know much about the disease that was ending his life. I didn’t even know his family well enough to place him in a context. So I started talking, voicing platitudes that I have used over the years in similar situations. Was it grace that inspired me to ask the question?
“Do you know that God loves you?”
I didn’t miss the quick glance in my direction or the momentary rush of color to his cheeks. So I talked about that unfathomable love that God has for each one of us, a love beyond all telling. “Do you know that God loves you as if you were the only person in the world? There is nothing God wants to do more than to forgive you if there is anything that you have done that is wrong. God wants to forgive you even before you find the way to say you are sorry. Did you know that?”
His lips trembled and his eyes welled with tears. After a silence that seemed enormous in duration, he turned to me and asked, “Is that really so? Does it even apply to someone like me?
“Yes,” I said, “even to someone like you or me.”
There is much that is important for us to hear in this week’s Liturgy of the Word, especially when we remember that this coming Wednesday will be Ash Wednesday, the beginning of another Lenten Season. If we receive the message, we just might have the best Lent of our lives so far.
Take the key from the Lord’s words in the first reading: I am doing something new! The context? Israel is in slavery, convinced that their exile and condition are perpetual and that, because of their infidelities, God has forgotten them. Don’t miss the fact that Israel is not crying out for mercy and forgiveness. It is love that moves the Lord; the love for this people the Lord has formed. It is for the sake of that love that the Lord says: It is I, I who wipe out, for my own sake, your offenses; your sins I remember no more. Not the best syntax, but the message is powerful.
It is we who imagine a white-maned God with arms folded across his chest just waiting to hurl lightning bolts, punishing those who have sinned. We might have been taught that. It’s hard to alter those first life-lessons and we can be stuck with those misconceptions that do not reflect the God who has called us into existence and, with love, sustains us in existence. God sealed that love with the gift that is Christ, the Word who took on our human condition and removed forever the chasm that separated the human and the divine. Humanity has been divinized, if you will, because God dwells in humans made in God’s image.
We gather as Church on Sundays to celebrate Eucharist. The word means thanksgiving. Every Eucharist gives thanks to God for what has come to us through Christ’s dying and rising. In each heart ought to be the elation that comes from the knowledge of having been forgiven. Of course that dawning knowledge must be preceded by the awareness of having sinned. The purpose is not to rub noses in the mire of guilt or to convince us that we are the worst creatures ever created. The purpose is to remind us of the forgiveness that originates in God and empowers something new to begin. God is doing this in, with, and through Christ; doing it in us.
Forgiveness forms the bond that unites the assembly even as will the celebration and the sharing in the meal. One Bread, one Body, one Lord of all/ One cup of blessing which we share. The hymn sings of that unity that is ours in Christ who died for us and whose blood washes away our sins. It is gift. A stranger coming into the midst of the assembly for the first time ought to be awestruck by the palpable joy that is there and sense immediately that the assembly welcomes all and wants them to share the joy. That is the infallible sign of a community that is alive in the Spirit and in Christ.
For the past several weeks the gospel narratives have been about Jesus driving out evil spirits and curing people of their diseases. Jesus’ announcing Good News that something new is coming precedes both actions. The miracles confirm the message. What we mustn’t miss is that even though there are many who are cured there are many more who are not. The miracles are signs, not ends in themselves. Miracles seen point to something unseen. Those who are cured are changed in a far deeper way than the mere restoration of sigh or hearing or the power to speak or to walk. The cured become believers and immediately begin to tell others of the wonder that is Jesus. They praise God and encourage others to believe even if they have not witnessed the miracle.
Don’t miss the setting of this week’s gospel. Jesus has returned to Capernaum where the first preaching occurred and the first miracles. The word has gotten out that Jesus is back home. So many come to be with him that there is hardly room to breathe the crowd is so dense. Then they bring a paralytic carried by four men. Who are they? The ones in the midst of whom he is sitting. The four carrying the paralytic are part of the community as they bring to Jesus someone in need. Because of the huge crowd, it is impossible for them to bring the paralytic close to Jesus. They carry the man to the roof, remove tiles and lower him to where Jesus is sitting.
Don’t miss the key element in what follows. Notice that Jesus acts because he sees their faith, not the faith of the paralytic, but the faith of those who have brought the paralytic to Jesus. The young man on the stretcher may or may not know who Jesus is. He may have heard something about Jesus, but this will be the first encounter with the one some are calling the Messiah and Lord. Then comes the proclamation that interprets that to which all the miracles or signs have been pointing. Child, your sins are forgiven. The paralytic may or may not be aware of his sins. It seems certain that he has not asked for forgiveness if he is aware of being a sinner. The faith in the community brings about the transformation in the man. Their faith becomes his and so does the forgiveness that they have received. How do we know that? Because when Jesus says: Rise, pick up your mat and walk, he does.
Had we time and space, we could talk about the scribes who scoff at Jesus’ words as he proclaims forgiveness of sin. Suffice it to say that their attitude ought not to be ours. How so, you ask? Their attitude becomes ours when we deny the possibility of forgiveness or classify someone as being beyond forgiveness. We proclaim someone as being beyond forgiveness when we shun or cut that one off from the community and declare him unworthy to come to the Table.
Strange isn’t it that our own sins are the most understandable? The least understandable are those sins we have never been tempted to commit. On the other hand, if we marvel at the abundance of God’s grace that resulted in our knowing we are forgiven then so ought we to rejoice when we see another come to that knowledge and peace.
So we come to the Table where all are welcome, where all join in celebrating Eucharist, giving thanks for the forgiveness that is ours in Jesus. (If all are not welcome there, it is not the Lord’s Table, and those who gather there do not practice the Lord’s Table Fellowship.) As we celebrate the Eucharist the bread and wine are transformed into the Lord’s body and blood. As we celebrate the Eucharist and the Spirit is invoked we are transformed into the Body of Christ. As we celebrate we share the meal that makes us one in Christ. Remember, that is not the end. As the Eucharist transforms us so we are sent to be ambassadors of what we have received. If we have understood and taken to heart our transformation, we must be willing to be the next stretcher-bearers regardless of who is the paralytic or what s/he has done.
Now, are you ready for the Ashes come Wednesday?
Sincerely,
Didymus
