A Hole in the Roof

           Jesus had to stay outside of town.  The man previously known as ‘leper’ had told too many people about the miraculous healing so Jesus couldn’t accomplish his mission as preacher without being interrupted by those who needed immediate attention for their ailments.  It’s natural, isn’t it, for people to want freedom from pain, affliction or maladies so that they can re-enter the community where all good things occur.  If there is a chance that a cure is available, you take it, right?

            Naaman was commander of the army of the king of Aram.  He was a great man in the sight of his master a highly regarded, because through him the LORD had given victory to Aram.  He was a valiant soldier, but he had leprosy.   2 Kings 5:1

            Here we go again, this leprosy thing except this skin condition arises in such a surprising fashion:  One who is technically unclean, one who should be an outcast, one who should be shunned is considered by his master a great man.  And, surprisingly, the LORD has blessed this leper with victory – not for Israel, but for Aram.  During the course of events, this man who should not have contact with anyone else captures a young Israelite girl who gives him information on how he might be cured of his disease. 

            I can’t say how Naaman would have felt, but if it would have been my own story, I might have thought to myself, Oh, I suppose it’s worth a try.  There’s no harm in it.  The prophet she’s spoken about will probably have me scrub my skin with dried cow intestines, drink goats milk mixed with various herbs, speak a few magical words over me and then poof I’ll go back to leading my army worrying whether they will still follow me when my fingers, nose or ears fall off.

            The king gives permission for Naaman to check out the course of healing, so he sends a letter to the king of Israel.  Here is the short draft of the letter.

            With this letter I am sending my servant Naaman to you so that you may cure him of his leprosy.

2 Kings 5:6

            The king of Israel receives the letter with great trepidation, tearing his clothes and wondering how in the world he is going to produce a miracle.  He assumes that the king of Aram is trying to pick a fight with the people of Israel and is quite afraid.  Elisha steps out of the woodwork almost in scorn of his king.

When Elisha the man of God heard that the king of Israel had torn his robes, he sent him this message: “Why have you torn your robes?  Have the man come to me and he will know that there is a prophet in Israel.”   2 Kings 5:8

It takes great faith, not just to heal but to be a healer.  Bring this man for a miracle.  No matter that he is unclean by our standards.  Bring him so that God’s glory may be revealed.  Elisha sent a message to Naaman:  “Go wash yourself seven times in the Jordan and your flesh will be restored and cleansed.”

When I read that the first time, I had the same reaction as Naaman.  Anger.  How dare he treat me with contempt.  It’s too easy.  I’ve washed my body for years.  What good will it do for me to wash seven more time in a dirty river.  I thought that he would come out to me and stand and call on the name of the LORD his God, wave his hand over the spot and cure me of leprosy.  So he turned to go in a rage.

There has got to be more to it.  Are there spells and incantations?  Don’t you need a wand for something like this?  Naaman wanted the ceremony and the majesty of the miracle not just the healing itself.  For a man of his importance, the least Elisha could do is show his presence. 

It was much easier to turn his back on the hope of healing than it was to have his pride and ego slain. 

Perhaps we are all like that sometimes.  When we come to Jesus the first time, the second time, or ten minutes ago when I really needed something I thought was incredibly important, we expect that Jesus will make us do something completely exceptional and out of the ordinary in order for healing to occur.  We don’t expect Christ to be telling us, “Child, your sins are forgiven.”

In my own arrogance, knowing my own pain, I come to God seeking healing of heart, mind or spirit, expecting a miracle, an opening of the clouds and a ray of sun beating down on my face glorifying me (not God).  But Christ says to me again before any healing takes place, “Child, your sins are forgiven.”

“But,” I stammer, “That’s not what I asked for.  I wanted you to take away the emotional pain of making mistakes in my marriage.  I wanted you to heal the physical pain in my back from restless nights of sleeping.  I wanted you to give me a perfect spiritual practice that takes only three minutes per day, like the three hundred dollar gym equipment that gives me amazing abs and buns which is now sitting in our shed prepped to be sold for fifteen dollars in our own garage sale.  That’s what I wanted.  I’m baptized.  I don’t need my sins forgiven.  I just want the pain to go away.”

Perhaps that’s what the four friends thought when they took measure into their own hands by hauling their paralyzed friend onto the neighbor’s roof, broke a hole in it and then lowered him down.  Can you imagine the house owner’s thought process at that time?  I knew we should have had this thing at Gary’s house.  My wife is going to kill me.  We’re going to have to have another garage sale to pay for fixing the roof.

In response to the visible faith of the friends, Jesus says to this one young man who cannot move his limbs, can’t feel his arms or legs, hasn’t moved in God knows how long, “Son, your sins are forgiven.”

What must he have been thinking?  Is that it?  My sins are forgiven?  He can heal lepers, cast out demons, cut fevers, but when it comes to the big stuff like paralysis, the best he can do is ‘your sins are forgiven?’

But that’s me putting my own thoughts into this man’s mind.  Mark’s gospel doesn’t give this man a name or a voice; he is simply the object of Jesus’ affection.  His compassion is pronounced and even though the room is filled with teachers of the law who Jesus comprehended were assembling to do battle against him, he queries them,

Why are you thinking these things?  Which is easier to say to the paralytic, ‘Your sins are forgiven,’ or to say, ‘Get up, take your mat and walk?’  But that you may know that the Son of Man has authority on earth to forgive sins…” He said to the paralytic, “I tell you, get up, take your mat and go home.’  He got up, took his mat and walked out in full view of them all.  This amazed everyone and they praised God saying, “We have never seen anything like this!”

Mark 2:8b-12

You mean that’s it?  Because of the faith of a few friends and the forgiveness of the Son of God, wholeness can begin?  Does it say something about the priority in life?  Is not healthiness of the soul of more importance than health of the body?