Son, Your Sins are Forgiven (Mark 2:1-12)
Son, Your Sins Are Forgiven
Mark 2:1-12
Introduction
As we begin, there are a number of observations we must make from the whole Bible to properly orient ourselves to understanding this text.
First, all illness and bodily disorder is the result of sin. If sin never entered this world, there never would have been even a cold. But it did, and it came with those words of cursing: From dust we were taken, to dust we shall return. Entropy comes for us all. Whether sniffles or cancer, aging or broken legs, diabetes or heart disease, anxiety and depression. All is a result, ultimately speaking, of sin. We do not have the Spiritual “night vision” goggles to look into the spiritual realm and draw a one-to-one connection between this sin and that bodily ailment. But in one way or another, all bodily disorder traces its way back to sin.
Second, the Bible promises that the forgiveness of sin will one day result in a perfectly ordered body. Central to the hope of our faith is the bodily resurrection. God made the body. He cares about the body. He will restore the body because we were meant to worship and enjoy him forever in a body—in this body. So he has promised a new and perfect body, one that is free from sin and therefore free from all stains of bodily disorder. The end of the story: “He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away” (Rev 21:4).
Third, the Bible consistently connects the forgiveness of sin with physical healing.
· The curses of Deuteronomy include boils, scab, itch, swelling, and illness/inflammation.
· 2 Chr 7:14, the Lord says to his people, “If my people who are called by my name humble themselves, and pray and seek my face and turn from their wicked ways, then I will hear from heaven and will forgive their sin and heal their land.”
· Psalm 103:2-3: “Bless the Lord, O my soul, and forget not all his benefits, who forgives all your iniquity, who heals all your diseases…”
· Psalm 147:3: “He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.”
· Isaiah 19:22 speaks of a day when the Lord will strike and heal Egypt so that they will return to the Lord and he will listen to their pleas for mercy and heal them.
· Isaiah 33:24: “No inhabitant [of the land] will say, ‘I am sick’; the people who dwell there will be forgiven their iniquity.”
· Is 38:17, Hezekiah’s prayer, “Behold, it was for my welfare that I had great bitterness; but in love you have delivered my life from the pit of destruction, for you have cast all my sins behind your back.”
· Is 53:5, the suffering Servant substituted for his people, “But he was pierced for our transgressions; he was crushed for our iniquities; upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace, and with his wounds we are healed.”
Now, I know the world we live in. Many today interpret those kinds of verses to mean that if I just confess my sins, if I just have enough faith, then God will heal me! This is damnably false. It is idolatry of the highest order. Jesus has many purposes for suffering in the present age, and he has not promised to rid us from bodily disorder in the church. The primary error is that Jesus came for the purpose of healing us as though our comfort was his ultimate aim. It is not. Jesus came to forgive sins, to restore in our hearts the worship of God through the redemption of a people for his own name. And he has promised that one day he will rid our bodies of all the effects of sin—but that day is not this day. We wait for it.
All the while, it would make perfect sense that if the ruler of that new, promised world is physically present, that new world comes with him—and so that’s what you see: healing. Jesus banishes illness from Israel, and thereby rebukes the domain of death and overthrows the province of sin. It would make perfect sense that we will not see healing like that again until he returns.
Fourth, the book of Isaiah in particular uses the picture of a lame man walking as a picture for God forgiving the sin of his people. Isaiah 35:3-7
With that in mind, hopefully you get something of the flavor of the point of this story.
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Thus, you can see the point of this story. The central figure in these stories is Jesus—who he is, what he does. Jesus has come to forgive sin. He shows that by his physical healings—particularly this one. Thereby, he shows that one day a new world will be restored without sin. And all of that because Jesus is the presence of Yahweh here to judge the blindness of his people—like these Scribes—and to save those who trust in him—like the paralytic and his friends.
And what a good word for those like us, upon whom the weight of sin, illness, disease, disorder lie heavily. That is the message we must hear: Jesus has the authority to forgive us! Therefore, it is to him that we must go. That is the great comfort that this text offers to us: Jesus is has the authority to forgive us because he is the God of Israel.
But that comfort also comes with an attending warning. There is a way of responding to Jesus’ claim to forgiveness with a cool, detached, evaluative reserve. There is a kind of tight-lipped, courteous Christianity which intellectually evaluates the claims of Christ and concludes, “Why does this man speak like that?” Even while it is amazed at what Jesus does in the church.
I. The Faith of the Five (2:1-5)
Jesus returns to Capernaum. This is the first indication that this account is meant to be read in parallel with Mark 1:21. In both stories, Jesus is in Capernaum, teaching and working miracles. The scribes are involved in both. The crowds see Jesus as bringing something that breaks precedent (“A new teaching with authority” “We’ve never seen anything like this!”). Both stories feature at least some of the people questioning among themselves and within themselves regarding the identity of Jesus. But, most importantly, it features the issue of Jesus’ authority. Back in 1:21-28, the issue was Jesus’ authority to teach, and consequently his authority over the kingdom he brought as the Messiah. He casts out a demon to prove that he is the Messiah, he can teach with authority, and therefore he is the king of God’s kingdom. Here, the issue surrounds the authority of Jesus to forgive sins.
All indications is that he has concluded his preaching tour in Galilee. He returns to home base, and he came to “a house.” Mark does not specify which house, but it is reasonable to assume that it was Peter’s house. This was a small house, called an “insula,” which consisted of anywhere from one to four rooms and a small courtyard not much bigger than a front porch. The door probably opened up directly onto the street. It was a small building built from local basalt stones, with smaller stones wedged between, then covered with paster. The roofs were flat, and therefore useable living and working space. Usually there was a staircase on the outside of the building leading to the roof, which had a parapet around it according to Deuteronomic law. The roof was constructed out of large wooden beams laid across the opening of the roof, crossed with sticks, grass, hay, and thatch, and then covered with a thick layer of mud plaster to keep out the rain. You would annually have to take a large rolling stone and lay down fresh mud plaster on these roofs in order to maintain them and keep the rain out of the house.
By this point Jesus is famous. He is starting to draw a crowd. 2:4 is the first time that word is used in Mark. Wherever he went, rumor spread as to where he was and the crowds would show up in order to hear his teaching and be healed. This evidently included the scribes who had come to investigate the matter of this new, young Rabbi who was teaching with authority and working miracles before unheard of.
So, they gather together in the house and on the street, and there are so many people that nobody can get to Jesus. And he preached the word to them, the same word he has been preaching all along from 1:15: ‘The time is fulfilled, the kingdom of God is at hand; repent and believe in the gospel.”
Among the crowd is an unnamed “they” (2:3), referring to the four friends of the paralytic. They brought a paralytic to Jesus, but could not get to him because of the crowds. They carried him on his bed—either a rigid palette kind of like a stretcher or a fabric bag stuffed with hay that would have been a mattress. There is no explanation of what was wrong with this man, but we do see the dogged determination of these friends.
Because they can’t get to Jesus they instead ascend the outer staircase onto the flat roof and begin to dig away at the layer of mud, then thatch, then beams in order to make a hole big enough to lower this paralytic down in front of Jesus. If this was Peter’s house, you can imagine the disruption, not only from the dust and debris that fell down on Jesus’ and the scribes’ head, but also in the inevitable outspokenness of Peter. The Scribes were “sitting there,” we assume in the house with Jesus, likely a smaller room, no bigger than 8ft by 8ft, with Jesus sitting and teaching, surrounded by a group of scribes, the crowd packed at the door and in the street, while a crippled man is lowered down in front of him with the obvious implied question that is never stated in the story: “Jesus, can you make him walk?” In response, Jesus “saw their faith”—the faith of the friends and the paralytic—and answered, “Son, your sins are forgiven.”
Whether or not this is what they were expecting, we don’t know. What we do know is that they had come to Jesus in genuine faith and repentance. They heard the preaching of the gospel and responded with the very faith that Jesus commanded in his preaching. They saw that the kingdom of God was at hand and they repented and believed! Jesus, knowing this, forgave his sin.
This provides an important counterpoint to the story of the leper. The externals of coming to Jesus may be the same, but what makes the difference is the reality of faith in the heart. Two people might be driven to God for the same external reason—say, depression or addiction or a guilty conscience—but one can walk away condemned and the other forgiven. Why? Because faith is the issue, not the circumstance. Jesus saw their faith, and he forgave the paralytic.
An important note: Jesus sees the faith of all five but only forgives the paralytic. Why? There are a number of explanations, but I think the most helpful one is to remember the point of the story—there is a connection between healing the lame man and the forgiveness of sins, as we discussed already. We assume that if they all had faith, they all were welcomed into the kingdom and they all had their sins forgiven. Yet, Jesus singles out the paralytic. Why? Because to make a crippled man walk said something unique about Jesus, his kingdom, and his authority, and that is the main point of this story.
II. The Doubts of the Scribes (2:6-8)
V6 starts with the word “now.” In our translations, this word is usually important in the gospel narratives, because it gives us important background information that we haven’t had to this point. To this point the story has been about these five individuals trying to get to Jesus. But now, we learn, there were scribes present. Scribes would have been something between a theologian and a lawyer. They were experts on the law and the traditional interpretations that had sprung up around it. They knew the halakah—the traditional rules about how to keep the law the correct way. As such, they were the gate keepers of teaching, the ones to whom people would look for answers, and the ones who had a unique interest in verifying the teaching of this new Rabbi.
When Jesus utters those words, “Son, your sins are forgiven,” it opens up a world of implications. There is a categorical difference between how we forgive sins and how Jesus is forgiving sins. In those days, the priest could pronounce that the sins of a worshipper were forgiven upon the offering of the correct sacrifice. Today, as believers, we have the ability to forgive those who sin against us based on the fact that we ourselves have been forgiven in Christ. But that is not what Jesus is doing here. Jesus is not merely forgiving interpersonal sins. He is speaking on behalf of God. He does not only say, as we do “I forgive you,” as though the leper had sinned against him personally. Nor does he say, “God forgives you,” as though he was affirming something about this man’s acceptable worship. He says, “Your sins are forgiven.”
He is admittedly a little ambiguous—i.e., he does not say “I forgive your sins,” but uses the passive voice. However, this is inconsequential, for the Scribes know exactly what he is saying. “Who can forgive sins but God alone?” And Jesus will confirm exactly what he meant; “The Son of Man has authority on earth to forgive sins.” Jesus is forthright. He is saying in no uncertain terms, “I forgive sins.”
Yet, these scribes do not say anything out loud. Their dialogue is completely internal. But this is the first of five consecutive stories that all feature an escalating conflict between Jesus and the religious leaders. Here, they question in their hearts but still walk away amazed. Then they complain to his disciples about his chosen company of repentant sinners. Then they quarrel with John’s disciples regarding fasting. Then they address Jesus directly about what his disciples do. Then they watch him to see what he will do and end up going out from him, not amazed and glorifying God, but seeking how to destroy him.
Let’s be clear on the dynamics here: someone is committing blasphemy. The Scribes are correct on the count that only God can forgive sins. There are now two options. Option A: Jesus is not God and therefore he really has committed blasphemy and thus really should be put to death. Option B: Jesus is God and therefore it is not Jesus who has committed blasphemy but the scribes—they have now claimed that God does not have the authority to forgive sins if they say that Jesus does not have that authority.
Rejection of Jesus begins with the silent questioning of the heart. It comes with the crowd and walks away amazed by what Jesus is doing, ostensibly worshipping God for his mighty works. Yet, in the heart, it stubbornly asks the question, “Why does this man speak like that?” Maybe you come to church and you hear the preaching and you feel the prick of the conscience. You walked in expecting to feel good but walk away feeling worse about yourself, and you chafe: “Why does this man speak like that?” Or maybe you come with problems and you come expecting a quick fix, and ten-step process, a seven-principle approach to make your life better. But then you sit down for counseling and you learn that it’s actually about repenting of your sins and trusting God, and that you have to admit that you are in the wrong and you walk away offended: “Why does this man speak like that?”
What does your heart say under the preaching of the word? What does it say when it is exposed to the searching power of Scripture? Does Scripture search you in the first place, or is Bible reading an intellectual exercise that never touches your heart? Then, when it does, how do you react? Do you silently question in your heart?
As one author said, “Sometimes, we keep up a showy fight with Satan in order to conceal our friendship with him.” It is like putting on a mock sword-fight on stage—sparks fly from the swords, but no blood is drawn, and once you walk off stage the friendship resumes.” This all results in a tight-lipped, courteous Christianity which has no true weight to it: “Many men live a double life; they mean to be courteous, but on religious matters they cultivate a cool, proud reserve. It often surprises us to find our Christian endeavors [arguments] so ineffective with apparently kind, open, intelligent people. What is the real reason? Because the heart is what governs, and logic is not addressed to the heart. Arguments are made and meant for the intellect, and lose weight in the tenuous atmosphere of the feelings.”
III. The Proof of the Son (2:8-12)
The omniscient Judge of the Universe immediately understands all the reasonings of our hearts. We are laid bare before his word—he perceives them all, perfectly and simultaneously. He perceives what is in our hearts. And then he calls us on them—Why do you reason thus in your heart? What reason do you have to question? Go ahead: set forth your arguments. Haven’t I given you enough evidence? I can make the paralytic walk. I can make the leper clean. I can cast out the demons. I can lift fevers. Do I not also have the authority to forgive sins?
And see Jesus’ indirect claim to be the God of Israel. 1 Sam 16:7, “The Lord sees not as man sees: man looks on the outward appearance, but the Lord looks on the heart.” 1 Chron 28:9, “The Lord searches all hearts and understands every plan and thought.” Psalm 139:2, “You know when I sit down and when I rise up; you discern my thoughts from afar.” Proverbs 16:2, “All the ways of a man are pure in his own eyes, but the Lord weighs the spirit.” Jeremiah 17:10, “I the Lord search the heart and test the mind, to give every man according to his ways, according to the fruit of his deeds.” “Jesus, perceiving in his spirit that they thus questioned within themselves.”
Then he puts them on the horns of a dilemma. Which is easier to say, Your sins are forgiven, or to say, Rise, take your bed and walk? And which is easier to say? “Your sins are forgiven.” Why? Because there is no immediate, external way to verify that sins have been forgiven. It’s a spiritual reality. It is much harder to command a paralytic to get up, pick up his bed, and walk, because if he doesn’t, that proves that you don’t have the power to do it. It is immediately verifiable.
Now, make no mistake: it is much harder to forgive sins than to make the paralytic walk. But Jesus argues that it is harder to say get up and walk because of what it proves about him. But the logic still stands: if he can tell the lame man to walk, that means he also has the ability to forgive sins. So, he does it. “But that you may know that the Son of Man has authority on earth to forgive sins”—he said to the paralytic—“I say to you, rise, pick up your bed, and go home.” And the leper obeyed. He rose and immediately picked up his bed and went out before them all.
What does it immediately imply about Jesus? He really does have authority to forgive sins. The paralytic’s sins really are forgiven—and therefore if we want our sins forgiven, it is to Jesus we must go.
Conclusion
In conclusion, consider this: the moment Jesus makes the claim to forgive sin, and the moment that Jesus verifies he has that authority by making the paralytic walk, he seals his own death. This for two reasons. First, the human reason. This is the watershed moment. This is the moment that would eventually set the religious leaders of Israel against Jesus. In fact, the charge of blasphemy here is exactly the same charge that they used (falsely) to put him on the cross in chapter 14. Jesus knowingly walked into the teeth of their hostility. Jesus was manly. He was brave and courageous. He knew exactly what he was doing—he knew he was making enemies, and he made them anyway. It was necessary.
Second, the divine reason. No one can forgive sins but God alone. Yet God cannot wink at sin and treat it as though it did not exist. God is merciful and gracious, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love, forgiving iniquity and sin, but he will by no means clear the guilty or leave sin unpunished. He cannot treat sin as though it had not been committed. It must be punished.
And here is a great truth, familiar to many of us, new to some: All sin will be punished. Unforgiven sin will be punished in the sinner eternally in hell, suffering under the wrath of God in the lake of fire prepared for the Devil and his angels. Forgiven sin will be punished in the Substitute.
Understand the courage Jesus has here. He knows this. And he knows who he is. When he says, “Son, your sins are forgiven,” He is at one and the same time saying, “Son, I will suffer God’s wrath for your sins.” By his wounds we are healed. He has the authority to forgive sins—so come to him, and be forgiven. Bring others to him that they might be forgiven. And, as Hebrews warns us, “See to it that you do not refuse him who is speaking.”