Sermon - Learning to Walk Again

The Paralytic Being Let into the Top of the House on his Bed, Stanley Spencer c.1920

A sermon given during Holy Communion at St Giles-in-the-Fields on Sunday 15th October 2023 (The Nineteenth Sunday after Trinity) based on readings from Ephesians 4.17-end and Matthew 9.1-8. In this sermon I explored the notion of personal disclosure in preaching, as part of my curacy training.

"And he entered into a ship, and passed over, and came into his own city. And, behold, they brought to him a man sick of the palsy, lying on a bed: and Jesus seeing their faith said unto the sick of the palsy; Son, be of good cheer; thy sins be forgiven thee. And, behold, certain of the scribes said within themselves, This man blasphemeth. And Jesus knowing their thoughts said, Wherefore think ye evil in your hearts? For whether is easier, to say, Thy sins be forgiven thee; or to say, Arise, and walk? But that ye may know that the Son of man hath power on earth to forgive sins, (then saith he to the sick of the palsy,) Arise, take up thy bed, and go unto thine house. And he arose, and departed to his house. But when the multitudes saw it, they marvelled, and glorified God, which had given such power unto men." (Matthew 9.1-8)

That event in Jesus’ home city reminds me of a return visit I once made to my own. It was the first Christmas holiday after leaving the sixth form. I had been invited to meet up with friends who I hadn’t seen since our exams in June.  

I walked in to the pub. The first time I had ever done so unaided because I had only recently started to walk again. For most of my time at secondary school I had used a wheelchair to get around. A manual chair at first - propelling myself along - often helped out by friends when I got tired - like the man with palsy in the gospel reading who was carried to Jesus on his bed. Later, when wheeling myself around became too painful, I was given a motorised wheelchair.

 

Like the man in the gospel reading, my ability to walk provoked a bewildering array of reactions from other people. Some of my former classmates didn’t recognise me at all at first. Their lasting memory was of someone always sitting down - at waist height - they didn’t realise I was so tall! A few became extremely angry. Had I been stringing them along all these years, making them push me about and help me up steps? They felt as though they had been treated like fools. Most, however, were pleased to see that I was walking and no longer in pain.

 

The fact that I could do so was the result of biology. I suffered from a condition in which my body attacked the enzymes released as my bones grew. A microscopic self-destruct sequence that caused great pain and swelling in my joints. When I stopped growing, the condition subsided and I was able to walk again unaided. 

 

I wonder what the man with palsy in the gospel reading felt about his condition? What is curious about the passage is that we learn of the faith of the man’s friends, the anger of the Pharisees towards Jesus and the joy of the crowd - without any of them speaking a word. But the man with palsy is the one person whose thoughts we are not told.

 

How did I feel at the time? With the benefit of hindsight, I think there were positive aspects to that period of my life - the fact that I couldn’t go out very much meant that I stayed at home and read lots of books - so I did well in school exams.

 

But in truth most of my memories from that time are not positive. Being annoyed that I couldn’t wear jeans - and having to wear instead rather horrible stretchy trousers, because they put less pressure on my joints and were easier to get on and off when my fingers and wrists were painful. These feelings - of anger and jealousy - were just as destructive as the microscopic attacks going on inside me - and continued long after I was able to walk.

 

 

In the gospel reading Jesus himself tells us the reason he forgives the sins of the man with palsy and then commands him to get up and walk: so that his divinity - his identity - might be revealed. Only the Son of God could forgive sins – while history records the myriad of travelling healers working at the time. And yet there are some who still interpret this order of operations – of forgiving the man’s sins and then healing him - as revealing a direct causal link between sin and disability. A message that is contrary to the truth that we have all been made in the image of God, in all our glorious diversity. 

 

For the record, there is no such causal link - disability is not the result of sin.

 

But there were many times I remember crying to God: why is this happening to me? Is it something I have done? Is it punishment for who I am? Some associated my condition with the trauma of the breakup of my parents’ marriage, others with mental illness. 

 

This desire to apportion blame - upon oneself or on others - or a “thing” or “the system” comes all too easily. 

 

While I was able to walk again unaided that Christmas, I think it took many years until I was fully healed – a process which is, if I’m honest, is ongoing. A process in which learning to receive and offer forgiveness is fundamental.

Forgiveness for my own negative thoughts and self-criticism, for the feelings of guilt for all the times I lashed out at others in anger and frustration. Forgiveness for the times when I felt hurt by the reaction of others. 

In his book on Forgiveness, Desmond Tutu shares stories of people from around the world who have experienced traumatic life events – but have found healing and wholeness through forgiveness. Many of these stories are from those who appeared before the Truth and Reconciliation Commission in South Africa, which he chaired.

 

We hear from people who have forgiven a drunk driver who killed their mother, someone whose children were murdered in the genocide in Rwanda; and we learn how those who have committed dreadful crimes have found healing through accepting forgiveness themselves.  

 

These stories are presented alongside a growing body of research which points to the physiological effects of seeking to come to terms with emotional trauma through reconciliation and forgiveness. 

 

While disability is not the result of sin - the result of our difficulty to accept and offer forgiveness of sins dis-ables us from living life as God intended - as our first lesson explains. 

 

The unconditional love of God which lies at the heart of Christian life means we must put away all bitterness, and wrath, and anger, and clamour, and evil-speaking. We are to be kind one to another, tender-hearted, forgiving one another, as we ourselves have been forgiven. Failing to do so separates us from that love - alienates us from God. Our understanding is darkened. “Our hearts blinded” – as the author of the letter to the Ephesians says. The link between forgiveness and physiology known in those days.

 

How urgently we need to prioritise forgiveness and reconciliation above everything else - as Jesus did that day in his home city. But how do we begin to unwind the cumulative impact of generations of blame, anger and malice – that we see at work in our lives and across the world? 

 

“Let not the sun go down upon your wrath” the letter advises. Which means acknowledging it. Talking about it. Rather than sweeping things under the carpet and allow feelings to build up and fester, we need to be honest about the sin we experience - that we commit - and the effect this has on us and on others.  

 

Desmond Tutu agrees. He suggests the key is to take things day-by-day. To cultivate forgiveness in our small, everyday encounters – forgiving the person who pushed in front of us to get their hymn book, forgiving the child making a noise while running through the church. By beginning in this way, we can prepare for a time when much larger acts of forgiveness will be asked of us. If we learn to act in a mindset of forgiveness as naturally as we say the words of the Lord’s Prayer, Tutu says: “a life that seemed littered with obstacles and antagonism is suddenly filled with opportunity and love.” 

 

It’s not some wishy-washy pop psychology. As Jesus says – it’s about identity. Forgiveness is central to who we are. At the heart of our salvation in Jesus Christ is God’s forgiveness of our sins - the sins of the whole world. As faithful servants we must learn to accept this forgiveness and how to offer forgiveness to one another. 

 

Doing so is key to wholeness and healing for ourselves and the world.

In privileging forgiveness we open ourselves to the risk of a bewildering array of responses from others - indifference, anger, joy.  But we open up the possibility of truly coming to know who Christ is.

 

Perhaps the gospel doesn’t tell us what the man with palsy thinks when Jesus forgives his sins and tells him to get up and walk - because we are encouraged to think for ourselves. Each of us is that that man.

Our sins have been forgiven by Jesus.

 

And each day we take another step forward in learning how to accept our forgiven-ness and how to forgive ourselves and each other. We are learning to walk again - in righteousness - with our Saviour. 

 

So, let us arise and walk with Him. 

Image : The Paralytic Being Let into the Top of the House on his Bed, Stanley Spencer c.1920