Text:  Mark 2:1-12                                                                                          W 7th Sunday after Epiphany


 

Something Old, Something New


 

In the name of him who is making all things new, dear friends in Christ:  People are funny.  On one hand, we are naturally pulled toward what is old and comfortable.  We like antiques, family heirlooms, covered bridges, and old houses filed with charm.  When admiring an item made long ago, we express our appreciation by saying, “They just don’t make them like that anymore.”  And on a day to day basis, we have our old standards:  we have our favorite meals, favorite movies, favorite books, and who knows what else; and we would be mighty angry if anyone attempted to change or improve them.  We like them as they are.  And we have our standard routines, and we sure don’t like to see them upset.  And this is true regardless of how old you are. We sometimes think of elderly people as being set in their ways; but as anyone who’s ever had to deal with a preschooler will tell you, there are certain things that you simply dare not change about their daily rituals.  They’ll let you know in an instant that you’re not doing it right.  So, like I said, we are naturally drawn to what is old and tried and true.

 

And yet, at the same time, we like new things.  We are attracted to the latest gadgets and fads, the most current, cutting edge technology, and the newest and best of whatever it is from treatment options when we’re sick to the cars we drive.  We quickly grow tired and bored with “the same old thing” all the time.  We fear “getting stuck in a rut”.  We’re always on the lookout for that something new and original that we’re convinced will change our lives for the better; but almost as soon as we obtain it, it becomes as uninteresting as everything else in the old toy box.  We have an insatiable appetite to be entertained and amused, and feeding it takes a steady flow of new talent and fresh ideas; but after you’ve heard a joke or seen an act, it isn’t funny anymore; so we ask whoever it is that’s trying to be worthy of our attention, “What have you got that’s new? Show me something different.”

 

So we live in this strange tension having both a partiality and an aversion for both the old and the new.  Did I mention that people are funny?  Anyway, I bring all this up because we see this strange tension particularly evident in the way people respond to the ministry of Jesus that we have been going over throughout the Epiphany season.  You may recall a few weeks back, we heard the story of how Jesus began his public teaching in a synagogue in Capernaum. The people who heard him were amazed at what he had to say.  He was taking the same old Bible passages they’d heard hundreds of times before and he was explaining them in a new and different light.  Unlike the Rabbis of the day who waffled about everything when teaching, and who referred and deferred to all kinds of contradictory statements written by famous scholars of the past so that you could never get a clear answer about anything, the teaching of Jesus was direct, authoritative, and to the point.  He left no room for dispute or misunderstanding.  His surprised hearers said, “What is this?  A new teaching – and with such authority!”  They were drawn to the old Scriptures by his exciting new teaching.

 

We saw that at the same time, Jesus also launched his healing ministry that was largely intended to confirm the authority of what he had to say.  I mean, if you were listening to him teach and thought, “This is all very interesting … but this new stuff he’s saying, how can it be right?  That’s not the way we were taught.  This isn’t what I heard it growing up.  What gives him the right to say all these new things?  How can I be sure he’s explaining it right?”  Well, if you then saw him drive a demon out of a person, cure a few lepers, give sight so some blind people, and so on, you’d have to conclude that he must be doing something right because surely God was working through him.  The miracles bore witness to the truthfulness of the words he taught.

 

Ah, but the miracles themselves were something new and novel too.  And let’s face it:  in the eyes of the crowd they were a whole lot more flashy and appealing to watch than just sitting there listening to him teach regardless of how fresh and thought-provoking his sermons were.  And so what we’ve been seeing over the past couple weeks is how the hype and excitement over the miracles performed by Jesus began to eclipse his teaching ministry in the minds of the people.  Last week we heard how it got so bad that Jesus was unable to enter the towns and villages.  Whenever he tried he was immediately swamped by thrill seekers who couldn’t care less about what he had to say, they only wanted to watch him do miracles.  So, in order to continue teaching, Jesus had to go to remote, uninhabited places.  That cut down on some of the thrill-seeking; but still people came from all over to go to wherever he was.   

 

So it is that today we find him back in Capernaum where he started his initial preaching tour through Galilee. This time you’ll note that he’s not in a synagogue designed to hold an entire congregation; but in a private residence where he can continue his teaching with a smaller audience.  Word gets out that Jesus is there, however, and before you know it the place is mobbed with people.  Due to the space restraints and the fact that he’s already surrounded by a large group of listeners, he’s able to continue teaching God’s Word without interruption from the newcomers.  And you have visualize this: you’ve got people filling the house and spilling out into the street.  They’re crowding around the windows and doors many layers deep. Everyone is pressing forward to hear him, and those in way the back, too far away to hear or see anything are asking, “What’s going on?  What’s he doing now?”  And people nearer the apertures are saying, “Shhh!  Be quiet.  There’s nothing going on.  He’s just talking again.  When he does another miracle, we’ll let you know.”

 

            The moment the thrill seekers have been waiting for arrives when four men come to the house carrying a paralyzed man on a stretcher.  But no one is about to give up his precious space where he can see what’s going on to let them through – even though for most of them it’s miracles that they’ve come to see.  (Kind of ironic, isn’t it?)  But the reluctance of the crowd to “make a hole” for them doesn’t stop the intrepid stretcher bearers who hit upon the idea of going in through the top.  Soon the man is being lowered through a hole they’ve literally dug through the roof, and he’s gently laid before Jesus.  A hush falls over the crowd as the level of expectation rises to astronomical levels.  They watch in rapt attention as Jesus smiles at the helpless, immobile man. He raises his hand over him.  Here comes the moment they’ve all been waiting for …

 

            … And Jesus disappoints them.  Instead of putting on a spectacular show by healing the man’s paralysis and raising him up with miraculous power, Jesus simply says to him, “Son, your sins are forgiven.”  What a let down for the crowd!  That’s not what they came here to see.  More than that, it crosses the line into blasphemy.  The Bible scholars present are deeply offended at his words.  “Only God can forgive sins”, they think to themselves.  “Where does he get off saying something like that?”  So it’s vital to see this:  everyone there is either offended by Jesus, disappointed by Jesus, or both at the same time.  Obviously he doesn’t know much about capturing people’s hearts and imaginations, or how to win friends and influence people – or if he does, he sure isn’t applying it now.  What’s he up to?

                The answer is simple:  he’s fulfilling the purpose for which he came.  God’s Son did not come into this world to make us all healthy and strong. He didn’t come to take away cancer, heart disease, or any other of the leading causes of death.  He didn’t come to give us happy marriages, fine homes, lucrative careers, or a sense of accomplishment.  He didn’t come to entertain us.  He came for a far nobler and infinitely more difficult to achieve purpose.  He came to take away our sin.  He came to take the penalty of our sin upon himself, to suffer and die on our behalf, so that by God’s grace we could be forgiven and reconciled to our Father in Heaven.  That is the mighty work of God he came to do – and the way he does it, or rather, the way we receive the benefit of his work for us on the cross, is through his Word.  That is to say, when he says we are forgiven of our sins, we are.  That’s the miracle.  That’s the most powerful and profound miracle you will ever witness, for by it the Lord Jesus delivers from death and hell and gives eternal life and joy.

 

            And once again, to prove the authority of what he says, he performs the lesser miracle of restoring this paralyzed man’s physical strength and motion.  He does the little miracle, the one that can be seen, to prove his claim to do the far greater miracle that cannot be seen.  The lesser miracle in this story he performs for just one man.  But the greater miracle he does for all who hear his voice.  The lesser miracles in general he performed during his ministry didn’t last. Everyone healed by Jesus – even those he raised from the dead – they all got sick, injured, crippled, diseased again. They all died.  But the greater miracle lasts forever.  The thing to see is that each one of us is in a spiritual sense the paralyzed man.  We can do nothing to help ourselves.  Nothing we do can ever take our sin away.  But it’s is mankind’s oldest and worst problem.  It is, in a very real sense, the only problem:  everything else we suffer is merely a symptom of sin.  By his Word, his new Word spoken in view of his sacrifice on the cross, Jesus takes the old sin problem away.

 

            The people gathered around Jesus when he performed the miracle in our story were astonished.  They praised God and said, “We have never seen anything like this!” They weren’t talking about the little miracle.  They had all seen Jesus do similar things.  It was becoming old hat.  No, what amazed them was that Jesus had the power and authority to forgive sins. That blew their minds.  That’s what was new and astounding.

 

            And it still is today.  People sometimes ask me, “Why doesn’t Jesus perform healing miracles today?”  The answer is that he does.  He routinely performs the greatest healing miracle in his ministry.  He does it today whenever his Word of forgiveness is heard. Earlier in this service you witnessed the miracle.  It happened to you.  When you confessed your sins and I replied, “Almighty God has given his Son to die for you and for his sake forgives you all your sins.  As a called and ordained servant of the Word”, that is, speaking in the name and authority of Jesus himself, “I forgive you all your sins.” The miracle happened.  You didn’t see it.  Maybe you didn’t feel it.  But as sure as Christ is raised from the dead and lives and reigns forever, it happened. It will happen again in this service a bit later when you kneel at the communion rail and receive to yourself the body and blood of the Lord given and shed for you for the forgiveness of your sins. Jesus will be present giving you himself to grant you forgiveness and eternal life.  It really is absolutely astounding.

 

            But unfortunately for us it has become old hat. Though it is the greatest of God’s miracles and certainly the one we need the most, we aren’t thrilled by it any more – at least not most of the time.  We’ve experienced it so many times that we take it for granted.  The Good News of the Gospel has become old news; old, tired, worn out … boring.  Someone gave me this news article last week.  It’s about a Lutheran church in the Des Moines area that is growing by leaps and bounds.  How? Well, they’re providing all the flash and pizzazz that the thrill seeker in each of us craves.  They’ve made everything new, fun, and exciting.  Why, they’ve got designer services:  sure, there’s a traditional service for the handful of stubborn old die hards; but there’s a much more popular soft rock service for the older baby-boomers, a hard rock service for the heavy metal set, punk, rap, new age, pop, country western … the come as you are in your sweats and sneakers service; oh they’ve got it all.  And during each service PowerPoint presentations and movie clips are carefully orchestrated to support the uplifting and inspirational messages of pastors Mike, Pat, and Caroline.  There’re play areas for the kids and classes on practical things like child care, financial management and investing, and low fat cooking.  They’re even putting up a Starbuck’s Coffee house within the sprawling church complex – and it all must be good and God-pleasing, because they’re really packing them in.  The numbers never lie.  If it’s popular, it must be right.

 

But I wonder … the title of this article is “Repackaging Worship”; but as I read through it, they never really mentioned the Gospel.  All they talked about was the exciting new package.  And I fear that what’s really going on here is that the Gospel is being eclipsed by the package they say they’re putting it in; that people are coming for the hype, the excitement, the entertainment, to see something new, rather than for what they need:  the old and visually unspectacular miracle by which Jesus forgives sins.

 

And I’m not just holding up this congregation for attack; rather I think that all of us are subject to the same kind of misdirected thrill seeking.  We’d rather be entertained with spectacle and humor than listen to the teaching of Jesus. We’d rather have our favorite songs in the style that we like than the powerful teaching hymns of the church.  And when we get what we need rather than what we came to see and experience, like the people in the story, we get offended and disappointed.  Worse, because of our discontent, we often miss the power and impact of the miracle that Christ is here to work upon us.

 

That’s what we’re here for:  to deal with an old problem, to have worked upon us an old miracle – an old miracle that is perhaps not so spectacular to watch, but that is new and powerful every time we experience it.  But more than that, the real power of this old miracle is the continuing creation of a new you.  We come here like the paralyzed man, after a week of moral failures and giving in to our sinful weakness.  As a result we are spiritually diseased and disabled, unable to stand or feed ourselves or anything else.  And if we can’t help ourselves, we sure can’t help others.  But when Christ Jesus speaks to us, when he teaches us through the Scripture or a sermon such as this, and when he announces his Word of forgiveness, we are cleansed of all sin and are filled with his power to rise up and walk in his way.  By his powerful old Words we are given new and righteous life in him.  As the Scripture says, “If any man is in Christ, he is a new creation.”  That should be what draws us:  not to see what’s new, but to hear what’s old so that we can be made new.  May our gracious Lord grant us the wisdom to always pursue that goal.  In Jesus’ name.  Amen


 

Soli Deo Gloria!

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