Fumbled
Some men came carrying a
paralyzed man on a sleeping mat. They tried to take him inside to Jesus, but they couldn’t reach
him because of the crowd. So they went up to the roof and took off some tiles.
Then they lowered the sick man on his mat down into the crowd, right in front
of Jesus. Seeing their faith, Jesus said to the man, “Young
man, your sins are forgiven.” (Luke 5:18-20)
Noble Doss
dropped the ball, and it has haunted him ever since. And that was in 1941. "I
cost us a national championship," he says. That year, the University of
Texas football team was ranked number one in the nation. Hoping for an
undefeated season and a berth in the Rose Bowl, they played their conference
rival, Baylor. With a 7-0 lead in the third quarter, the Longhorn quarterback
launched a deep pass to a wide-open Doss. "The only thing I had between me
and the goal," he recalls, "was twenty yards of grass." The
throw was on target, and the sure-handed Doss spotted the ball and reached out
to catch the perfect spiral. But the ball slipped through his hands. Baylor
rallied late in the game and tied the score with only seconds left to play.
Texas lost their top ranking and, consequently, their chance at the Rose Bowl.
"I think about that play every day," Doss admits. Most fans remember
the plays Doss made and the passes he caught. But Doss only remembers the one that
he missed.
Memories of
dropped passes fade slowly from our minds. They stir a fear that we’ve disappointed
people; that we’ve let down the team; that we've come up short. A fear that,
when needed, we didn't do our part; that others suffered because of our
fumbles. And we’d gladly swap our blunders for Doss'. Because, deep down, we
fear that we’ve out-sinned God’s patience. "God's well of grace must have
a bottom to it," we reason. "A person can request forgiveness only so
often," goes our common sense. "Cash in too many mercy checks, and
sooner or later one of them is going to bounce!"
The devil, of
course, loves this line of logic. If he can convince us that God's grace has
limited funds, we'll draw the only logical conclusion – that the account is
empty; that God’s locked the door to his throne room. Pound all you want; pray
all you want. But there’s no access to God. And "No access to God"
unleashes a beehive of concerns. We’re orphans – unprotected and exposed.
Heaven, if there’s even such a place, has been removed from the itinerary.
Vulnerable in this life and doomed in the next. The fear of disappointing God
has teeth. But in Christ’s first reference to fear, he does some serious
defanging. "Take courage, son; your sins are forgiven." (Matt. 9:2)
Note how Jesus places “courage” and “forgiven sins” in the same sentence. Maybe
bravery begins when the problem of sin is solved.
Jesus spoke
these words to a person who couldn’t move. He was "a paralyzed man….” (v.
2) This disabled guy couldn't walk his dog or jog the neighborhood. But he did
have four friends, and his friends had a hunch. When they got wind that Jesus
was a guest in their town, they loaded their companion on a mat and went to go see
the teacher. An audience with Christ might bode well for their buddy. But a
standing-room-only crowd packed the residence where Jesus was speaking. People
sat in windows, and crowded the doorways. But being the sort of fellows who
don't give up easily, the friends concocted a plan. “So they
went up to the roof and took off some tiles. Then they lowered the sick man on
his mat down into the crowd, right in front of Jesus.” (v. 19) That’s a pretty risky strategy, don’t you think?
Most homeowners
don't like to have their roofs torn apart. Most paraplegics aren't fond of a
one-way bungee drop through a hole in the roof. And most teachers don't
appreciate a spectacle in the middle of their lesson. We don't know the
reaction of the homeowner or the man on the mat. But we know that Jesus didn't
object. In fact, Matthew all but paints a smile on his face, and Christ issued
a blessing before one was even requested. And he issued a blessing that no one
expected: “Young man, your sins are forgiven.” (Luke 5:20)
Wouldn't you expect
something different? I don’t know, but how about something like, "Hey, son.
Your legs are healed and your paralysis is history. Go ahead and sign up for
the Boston Marathon"? The man had limbs as sturdy as spaghetti, yet Jesus
offered mercy, not muscles. What was he thinking? Simple. He was thinking about
our deepest problem: sin. He was considering our deepest fear: the fear of
failing God. Before Jesus healed the body, he treated the soul. "Young
man, your sins are forgiven."
To sin is to
disregard God, ignore his teachings, and deny his blessings. Sin is
"God-less" living, centering life on the center letter of the word “sIn.” The sinner's life is me-focused,
not God-focused. Wasn't that the choice of Adam and Eve? Prior to their sin
they indwelled a fearless world. One with creation, one with God, one with each
other. Eden was a "one-derful" world with one command: don't touch
the tree of knowledge. Adam and Eve were given a choice, and each day they
chose to trust God.
But then came
the serpent, sowing seeds of doubt and offering a sweeter deal. "Has God
indeed said . . . ?," he questioned. (Gen. 3:1) "You will be like
God," he offered. (Gen. 3:5) And just like that, Eve was afraid. Some say
she was pride-filled, defiant, and disobedient. But wasn't she afraid, first?
Afraid that God was holding out, and that she was missing out? Afraid that Eden
wasn't enough? Afraid that God wasn't enough? Afraid that God couldn't deliver?
They mishandled their
fear, and fear did them in. Eve quit trusting God and took matters – and the fruit
– into her own hands. "Just in case God can't do it, I will," and Adam
followed suit. Adam and Eve did what fear-filled people do – they ran for their
lives. "Adam and his wife hid themselves from the presence of the Lord God
among the trees of the garden. Then the Lord God called to Adam and said to
him, 'Where are you?' So he said, 'I heard Your voice in the garden, and I was
afraid.'" (Gen. 3:8-10)
Fear, mismanaged,
leads to sin. Sin leads to hiding. And since we've all sinned, we all hide. Not
in bushes, perhaps, but in eighty-hour workweeks, temper tantrums, and
religious busyness. We avoid contact with God. We’re convinced that God must
hate our evil tendencies. We sure do. We don't like the things we do and say.
We despise our lustful thoughts, harsh judgments and selfish deeds. If our sin
nauseates us, how much more must it revolt a holy God? So, we draw a practical
conclusion: God is irreparably ticked off at us. So what are we to do except
duck into the bushes at the sound of his voice?
Jesus made
forgiveness his first announcement. Yes, we’ve disappointed God. But, no, God hasn’t
abandoned us. “He who believes in Him is not condemned.” (John 3:18) “Everyone who
looks to the Son and believes in him shall have eternal life, and I will raise
him up at the last day.” (John 6:40) “These things I have written to you who
believe in the name of the Son of God, that you may know that you have eternal
life.” (1 John 5:13) Jesus loves us too much to leave us in doubt about his
grace. His "perfect love expels all fear." (1 John 4:18)
Now, if God
loved with an imperfect love, we would have cause to worry. Imperfect love
keeps a list of sins and consults it often. God keeps no list of our wrongs.
His love casts out fear because he casts out our sin. Remember the words of
John's epistle: "If our heart condemns us, God is greater than our heart,
and knows all things." (1 John 3:20) In other words, when you feel
unforgiven, evict the feelings. Emotions don't get a vote. Go back to
Scripture. God's Word holds rank over self-criticism and self-doubt. As Paul
told Titus, "God's readiness to give and forgive is now public.
Salvation's available for everyone! . . . Tell them all this. Build up their
courage." (Titus 2:11)
Do you know
God's grace? Nothing fosters courage like a clear grasp of grace. And nothing
fosters fear like an ignorance of mercy. And if you haven't accepted God's
forgiveness, you’re doomed to fear. Nothing can deliver you from that gnawing
realization that you have disregarded your Maker and disobeyed his instruction.
No pill, pep talk, psychiatrist, or possession can set the sinner's heart at
ease. You may deaden the fear, but you can't remove it. Only God's grace can. So,
have you accepted the forgiveness of Christ? "If we confess our sins, He
is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all
unrighteousness." (1 John 1:9) If so, then live forgiven. Jesus has healed
your legs, so walk. Because when Jesus sets you free, you’re free indeed. But
you may need to silence a few roosters.
Booker T.
Washington relates a story of the day his mother did just that. Every morning
of his young life, Booker, along with all the plantation slaves, was awakened
by the crow of a rooster. Long before daybreak the unwelcome noise would fill
the sod shanties, reminding Booker and his fellow workers to crawl out of bed
and leave for the cotton fields. The rooster's crow came to symbolize their
dictated life of long days and backbreaking labor. But then came the
Emancipation Proclamation.
Abraham Lincoln
pronounced freedom for the slaves. The first morning after the Proclamation,
young Booker was awakened by the rooster once again. Only this time his mother
was chasing it around the barnyard with an ax. Later that day, the Washington
family fried and ate their alarm clock for lunch. Their first act of freedom
was to silence the reminder of their former slavery.
Any roosters
stealing your sleep? You might need to sharpen your blade. Because the great
news of the gospel is, yes, his grace is real. And so is our freedom.
Grace,
Randy
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