It all began with what seemed like a crazy, wild, fantastic idea. The whole project seemed so unrealistic, so far-fetched, absurd, that most people would have shaken their heads and said, "It’ll never work. It’ll just never work."

The fact is that this wild idea did work. The result was far greater than anyone had anticipated. The conclusion of the story, in Mark 2:12, points to this powerful, electric experience that swept through the Capernaeum multitude. Mark says, "they were all amazed and glorified God, saying, "We have never seen anything like this."

That was the exciting conclusion. What was the story that led up to it? What actually happened to produce such a profound amazement and awe?

I believe that we’re overhearing in this story a word about what the church is meant to be and can be today. I believe we are meant to have the same kind of joy and excitement that shines through this text. Let’s use our sanctified imaginations and embellish the story just a little bit as I suggest to you the way I picture what might have unfolded.

Notice first of all that the story begins as someone has a great idea. You creative people can relate to that. That’s the first step. An idea that meets some human need—physical or spiritual. I think we are called to be Christian humanists—to be found in the world at the point of human need, as was Jesus. The wonderful Roman Catholic theologian Hans Kung puts it well:

We are called to join God in the world, not apart from it, meeting human need.

Someone remembered an old friend—a man who had fallen on hard times. Some strange illness had devastated his health. He had lost weight and strength, grown listless and depressed. He was unable to work. He had no appetite. He grew thin and hollow-eyed.

His friends tried to cheer him up. He would smile faintly, then stare into the distance. Physicians were baffled. No one seemed to be able to help. He just grew worse. One day he went to bed. Couldn’t get up . . . couldn’t walk. He was paralyzed. He lost his will to live. It was evident that he was soon going to die.

Somehow, someone got the idea: There was a person who might help. A man from Nazareth, a carpenter turned teacher who was a social prophet, the leader of a new reform movement, a teacher of alternative wisdom, and reputed to be a spirit person—a healer. The blind could see, the deaf could hear, the lame could walk. Israel had never seen as unique a person as this Yeshua.

The picture I see is of an exciting, enthusiastic, joyous chain reaction. Someone is healed. He tells someone, who tells someone, who tells someone, who knows the paralytic.

The whole thing seems a little absurd. But one friend talks to another. They don’t know Jesus, but they al know someone who needs him—who needs his help. They agree. Let’s take him to Jesus. It can’t hurt. It might help . . . he’s going to die if we don’t do something.

The paralytic, perhaps, is quite negative. "It won’t work!" he says. He’s been disappointed too many times. "Thanks for thinking about me, but forget it."

I’m sure he protested, saying something like "He fellas, put down my bed! What do you think you’re doing? Cut it out. This is crazy. Look, I’m sick. Doctors can’t help me. Your carpenter can’t help me. Put me down! Watch out! You nearly dropped me! I appreciate your interest and concern, but pick on somebody else? Possible scenario?

But there they go, down the street, four men carrying the paralytic. He’s complaining, protesting all the way. It begins with a great idea.

But, not only did they have a great idea, they kept on going when the going was tough! Can you imagine what it would have been like if the story had taken place this way? One of the fellas dropped his corner of the bed, saying "I"ve been thinking, you know, this really is a hopeless case. Let’s forget it. It isn’t going to work. This man is a loser. There’s no way we can help him. His attitude is too negative. It’s a lost cause. I quit. See ya later.

Imagine the three men, now continuing. The second man then drops his corner of the pallet. He says, "I’m tired. I’ve been carrying this heavy load for eight blocks now. It’s time for someone newer and younger to take over. The sun is too hot. When was the last time somebody carried me? Besides, this is Monday and there are gladiator fights—and I don’t want to miss them.

Imagine two fellows now struggling with the paralytic. It’s really hard to carry him. Its hard to maintain balance with two people carrying a pallet.

Finally, the third man said, "Look, I have to get back to the shop! I have some new help. I told him I’d be gone just a short time. This is taking a lot longer than I imagined it would. I’m sure you understand. Business is business. I have responsibilities for my family, and for my job. I’ll have to catch you later.

Now there’s only one man left. He calls out for help. People walk right by as if they were deaf. He’s dragging the man on the pallet. It’s apparent that it isn’t working. The poor man on the pallet is bumping along the road.

Finally the fourth man says, "Wait here a minute." A silly thing to say because that’s all the paralytic can do. He walks ahead, comes back shaking his head, looking dejected. "Look, I don’t know how to say this, but this whole thing is a disaster. You should see the crowd around the house where Jesus is teaching. It’s really something. People are lining the streets. There’s no way to get you in. There are more people there than he can help anyway."

"Look I hate to leave you hear, but I’m sure you can find a way home. Someone will come along and give you a hand. Well, it was a great thought wasn’t it? See you later. Remember, God loves you and so do I."

And the man is left alone in the sweltering noonday sun.

Aren’t you glad the story doesn’t end that way? Doesn’t it seem tragic that that is the way the story ends for some people who really have needs are who are truly receptive when the church isn’t creatively persistent in removing obstacles to wholeness for them? Physical obstacles, intellectual obstacles, social obstacles? Some of Jesus favorite people are left outside our crowded churches because we refuse to deal with the artificial and unnecessary obstacles that are often erected between them and God.

Mark is giving us a picture, among other things, of what the church is meant to be.

I’ve just described a tragic situation which is a real distortion of what we are created to be as people of faith. Unfortunately, that’s the situation sometimes. How does a person feel when she is dropped or forgotten? Guilt is driven even deeper. The low self-esteem is further reinforced. Hopelessness is multiplied. I like these four men. They keep going when the going is tough. Each person holds up his corner of the pallet. That’s the kind of committed teamwork that the church is meant to exhibit. There’s a way. Let’s find it whatever it takes.

Notice the next step. After the great idea and sticking with it through the initial stages, when faced with apparent defeat, these men refuse to surrender to the negative. They won’t give up. Together they discover creative solutions.

The critical moment in the story came when they rounded the last corner. Everything about the situation suggestion impossibility. Can’t you just imagine the crowded house? People were standing around every door, filling every window. There was every reason to give up, resign, turn around and quit.

I wish I could have heard the conversation that took place. In my imagination I can hear them saying, "Look at that crowd! What are we gonna do? One man says, "Got an idea. Let’s do like the Roman soldiers do! Let’s form a wedge, lock arms and drive our way though the crowd. We can get through and get Joe here to Jesus."

Then someone else says, "No, I don’t think that Jesus would like that; he doesn’t like men knocking down little children and running them over. I have an idea. Let’s run hard, give a big leap, and then run on top of the shoulder and heads of the people. They’re so tightly packed together that we could just run over them and drop Joe here at Jesus feet. Then another shook his head and said, "That won’t work either, because Jesus certainly doesn’t like people walking all over other people."

Then someone looks up and says, "Wait, look at that outside stairway. Where does it lead? To the roof! Imagine a descending pallet in the room. Now I’m just sure the paralytic was protesting, "No, not me—I’m acrophobic. Heights make me sick! You can’t do this to me. I’ll feel like a complete fool! All the way up the outside stairway he’s hanging on for his life. He’s terrified, because he knows very well what they have in mind. But they don’t surrender to the problem or to the fear of the sick man.

I think they really enjoyed themselves as they opened up that roof. A lot of people have served on church building committees. Not many of us have served on roof opening committees or tile tearing committees.

Here we see a basic principle for the church. Buildings are for people, not people for buildings. Structures should not be allowed to block or frustrate the ministry of Jesus.

Now imagine with me how we would feel if we heard people on the roof of out church during the morning service. What would it be like if we heard the whirling sound of a drill and saw a bit pop through the ceiling leaking sawdust on our heads. Then we would see a saw appearing and hear the sound of cutting wood. I’m sure beyond a shadow of a doubt that I would nod to the ushers and ask them to check it out. I’m sure that as the sawing continued our trustees would get up one by one and go outside to investigate. I’m certain a lot of folks would be moving to the door to check out what was happening. Probably someone would call the Fire Dept., the Police Dept., the Dept of Mental Health. People who listen to radio police scanners would come to the church. There’d be a lot of excitement. People would be saying, "They’ve got four crazy’s on the roof at Community Church. There’s a guy on a stretcher up there too, and they’re cutting a hole in the roof. This is really far out!

Our response would be to protect the building. Can’t you imagine how the owner of that house felt? Think about what the wife was saying? Suppose her parents were visiting. They must have said, "I knew this was going to be a disaster! I could tell by the friends that this Jesus had that they would probably steal from us; now they’re tearing up the roof!" Perhaps the mother-in-law fainted.

Now, it’s interesting to remember the people who are on the inside don’t really know that there are people on the outside who can’t get in. They’re quite content because they have a comfortable place to listen to Jesus. It’s easy for those on the inside to feel quite comfortable and complacent and not be aware of the social, physical, or intellectual obstacles.

I served in a church in the Chicago area in the 1980s that experienced tremendous growth. But they had overbuilt the sanctuary in order to accommodate everyone in one service. But the children’s classrooms during the Sunday School hour were overcrowded and crammed. The solution, it was agreed by an ad hoc committee, after much consultation and study, was to go to dual services, which would give two simultaneous Sunday School and Worship hours. I was shocked at the significant and vocal minority who in essence said, "To bad kids, we adults feel comfortable. We have enough room." But we were going to start turning off young families because of insensitivity to the needs of the children’s and youth program.

You see, in situations like that, and the examples could be multiplied, we should use our creativity to provide the space, or whatever it is that is needed to get people and Jesus together. That’s the only reason for a building. It’s not simply to provide an edifice of identity of which we can be proud, but to be an instrument for the ministries of healing, teaching, and mission, as well as for our worship. Buildings are simply instruments of ministry and mission.

The real question we need to ask is, what is happening inside the buildings? Are lives being changed? Are burdens of guilt being lifted? Are broken people finding spiritual healing? Are the crushed being lifted up? Are confused people finding the way? Do children learn of God’s love? Do youth find inspiration and guidance for their lives? Is the word of the gospel, "son or daughter, your sins are forgiven" being heard?

When the sick man is lowered, Jesus speaks to him and says, "Son, your sins are forgiven." That might seem a strange word to speak to a paralytic. Jesus knows that the problem is deeper than meets the eye. Guilt weakens. Guilt destroys more fearfully than disease. It is worse than disease. It sometimes causes physical problems. Guilt says, you’re a failure. You’re bad. You are hated by God. If people really knew you, you’d have no friends at all. You’re weak. You’re alone. You can’t do it. It’s foolish to try. You’re paralyzed! Life is so terrible that you might as well stock up on booze, forget ethics, even take your own life." Guilt causes estrangement/alienation from God, from others, from ourselves.

Jesus said, simply, "You’re forgiven." You are accepted. It’s interesting to me that, as in many of Jesus stories, such as the parable of the prodigal son, it is the forgiveness that comes first. Forgiveness in unconditional. It is God’s nature to forgive. It isn’t contingent upon a sacrifice, even upon Jesus death understood as a sacrifice—a theological notion that is fraught with disturbing consequences. Jesus doesn’t tell the paralytic that he can be forgiven if he repents, if he makes restitution, if he does penance. No, that’s putting the car before the horse. That’s getting the good news backwards. Karl Barth once said that too much Christian preaching speaks about an obligation which must be met in order to receive a gift, whereas the real message of the New Testament is about a gift which then leads to an obligation. Grace comes first, even before repentance. Why? Because before you truly feel the unconditional, unending, unqualified love and acceptance of God, you are virtually incapable of complete honesty about yourself. It takes a secure, stable, confident person to admit their deepest need.

You’re sins are forgiven. Period. What we choose to do with our acceptance is up to us of course. Will we accept our acceptance?

Now the Pharisees were experts in what can’t be done. They know all the reasons why people shouldn’t receive Jesus help. The were concerned with protocol and authorization, and a judicial understanding of forgiveness. But Jesus knew the divine, parental heart. Jesus has a different word. He looks at us tenderly. He speaks with compassion and authority. His word has the power to affect what it announces which exposes and expresses the very nature of God which is compassion.

When Jesus turned to the paralytic he says, "But that you may know that the Son of Man has authority on earth to forgive sins—I say to you, "rise, take up you bed and go home." Now the moment of crisis has come. The man is a paralytic. How can he get up? Will he try? He looks into the face of Jesus. He sees someone who believes he can do it. He begins to struggle and to strain. He uses every bit of energy that he possesses. It isn’t easy for him, because there’s a certain comfort in being sick the way he is. There’s a certain ease that comes with his familiar routine each day. Every day someone brings him his food. Every day is the same.

You remember how Jesus had asked the man who had been sick for 38 years, "Do you want to be healed?" That’s the great question. It’s so easy just to settle back into the comfort of the illness or disability or breakdown that we may feel we have earned, or the less-than-healthy behavior that has become habitual and to which we are comfortably accustomed. That’s why its so exciting to read, "And he stood up, and took up the mat and went out before them all."

There is something that you need to pick up today. Perhaps it’s a memory of an old failure for which you can’t forgive yourself. Perhaps its an old pattern of negative living. Perhaps its an old excuse or evasion. Perhaps it’s the way you put yourself down or someone else down. Perhaps it’s a sour, critical, negative attitude. Perhaps it’s a paralyzing fear or anxiety.

When that paralytic got up, rolled up his pallet, threw it over his shoulder and walked out of there praising God, that was an exciting and thrilling moment. Everyone was astonished.

Imagine there’s a hole in the roof. Four men, with enormous grins across their faces. Imagine what it would have been like to see that miracle through a hole in the roof. That would have been something else. Here are four men. It all began with a great idea. They kept going when the going was tough. When faced with an impossible situation they wouldn’t surrender to defeat. And they kept moving towards the center where they found Jesus who brought to their friend the ultimate, divine word of grace. I think Jesus must have looked up and smiled at them.

Think about a church where the patron saints are four enthusiastic, crazy, roof-rippers. Or people like those guys anyway. Think about a church where people really care about other people and want the church to be alive and growing. Think about a church where people make real investments of time and energy and money to bring other people into the sphere of divine acceptance, healing, and wholeness. Think about a church that doesn’t give up with problems—that is creative and spontaneous and enthusiastic and joyously alive. That cheers because there is something to cheer about, where people go out into the world to serve and glorify God, where at the very center of its existence is a living Lord who still says, "You’re sins are forgiven." "And Amazement seized them all, and they glorified God." Amen.