Community
May 19, 2013
Mark 2:1-12
Jackie Robinson was the first black man to play Major League baseball. In his first season with the Brooklyn Dodgers, Robinson faced venom nearly everywhere he traveled. Pitchers threw fastballs at his head. Runners spiked him on the bases, brutal comments were made to him and even to his teammates. Even the home crowds in Brooklyn saw him as an object of reproach.
During one game in Boston, the taunts and racial slurs seemed to reach a peak. During the game, his teammate, a Southern white man by the name Pee Wee Reese, called time . . . and he walked from his position at shortstop toward Robinson at second base, and with the crowds looking on, he put his arm around Robinson’s shoulder. Robinson has no idea what Reese said to him, but the fans grew quiet. Robinson later said that meant so much to him.
Friendships! I’m not talking about simple acquaintances. I’m talking about people who will care about you, people who will love you, encourage you, and stick by your side, even with all of your sins and mistakes. We all need good and great friends like this.
There’s a story in the Bible about some great friends. I want to share that scripture with you. It’s found in Mark 2:1-12 ~
1 And when he returned to Capernaum after some days, it was reported that he was at home.
2 And many were gathered together, so that there was no more room, not even at the door. And he was preaching the word to them.
3 And they came, bringing to him a paralytic carried by four men.
4 And when they could not get near him because of the crowd, they removed the roof above him, and when they had made an opening, they let down the bed on which the paralytic lay.
5 And when Jesus saw their faith, he said to the paralytic, “Son, your sins are forgiven.”
6 Now some of the scribes were sitting there, questioning in their hearts,
7 “Why does this man speak like that? He is blaspheming! Who can forgive sins but God alone?”
8 And immediately Jesus, perceiving in his spirit that they thus questioned within themselves, said to them, “Why do you question these things in your hearts?
9 Which is easier, to say to the paralytic, ‘Your sins are forgiven,’ or to saSLIDEy, ‘Rise, take up your bed and walk’?
10 But that you may know that the Son of Man has authority on earth to forgive sins” — he said to the paralytic —
11 “I say to you, rise, pick up your bed, and go home.”
12 And he rose and immediately picked up his bed and went out before them all, so that they were all amazed and glorified God, saying, “We never saw anything like this!”
It’s one of the great stories in the Bible about community. It involved a paralyzed man and his friends. Imagine what life was like for a paralytic in the ancient world. This man's whole life is lived on a mat three feet wide and six feet long. Someone has to feed him, carry him, clothe him, move him to keep him from being covered with bedsores, clean him when he soils himself. He will never know the sense of independence we fiercely try to maintain.
Nothing can be done medically — no surgeries, no rehab programs, no treatment centers. Anyone in this man's condition has to go through life as a beggar — lay by the side of the road, be dependent on people dropping coins beside him so he could live another day. He has no money, no job, no influence, no family, and seemingly not much of a future.
What's he got going for him? This man had friends, amazing friends!! He’s in one of the most amazing small groups of all time. This whole story takes place because of his friends. Without them, he never makes it to Jesus, never gets forgiven, and never gets healed.
Because of his physical condition, the odds were against this man having any friendships at all. Even in our day, people who wrestle with physical challenges often say the most difficult obstacles they face are the attitudes of so-called normal people. Those are people who don’t know how to respond, sometimes they’re unkind, sometimes they look away. This is a fast-paced world, and it is not a very gracious place for those who can't run as fast as others.
But the ancient world could be even harsher. The Greeks regularly disposed of newborn infants with physical abnormalities. In ancient Israel, there was an assumption that if people were suffering physically, they had brought it on themselves. In another New Testament story the disciples see a man blind from birth and ask Jesus, "Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?"
Think about the story of Job. Job’s wonderfully obnoxious and accusatory friends believed Job was guilty of some type of sin, because of all the grief which came his way. That was the ancient belief. It was the fact that God was a retributional God. That’s the belief that God punishes us for doing wrong. If that’s the case, then we should all be suffering like Job. But, that’s not who God is. He’s filled with grace and mercy, love and power, courage and life.
Yet, here’s a small group of men who refuse to let any obstacle stop them. And this is a key point ~ Their little group did not come about by accident. In the face of very real obstacles — social stigma, inconvenience, financial pressure, lots of time and energy — they chose to be friends.
People rarely drift into deep community. One of the most countercultural statements in Scripture is a description of the early church. As Luke wrote in Acts 2 about the oneness of the people - that their heart, spirit and mind were one, he added, Every day they continued to meet together. Do you hear that? They worshiped together, ate together, prayed together — weekly? NO! Daily!! No wonder they grew so close.
We try to create 1st century community with a 21st century timetable — and it doesn't work. Maybe the biggest single barrier to deep connectedness for most of us is simply the pace of our lives. How often do you hear / or say ~ "We've got to get together soon" or "Let's get together when things settle down?"
The requirement for true intimacy and community is unhurried time. If you think you can fit deep community into the cracks of an overloaded schedule — think again. We can't do community in a hurry. You can't listen in a hurry. You can't mourn or rejoice in a hurry.
I think we often lack great friends because we’ve never realized the value of community. We try to create community on the run, but it doesn’t work that way. You know, you can’t carry someone on their mat in a hurry. And everyone comes with a mat.
When I was in seminary, I had one of those small groups. It was a group of 6 guys. We got together in each other’s apartments every week. We didn’t miss a week. Every week we ate together, we talked, we were silly, we laughed and we cried. Not one of us made it out of that community without going through every emotion. It was amazing community. There were times when every one of us had to be carried on a mat because we what we were personally going through.
Eventually, some of the guys graduated, and we were down to just 2 guys. Tim and I. We thought we would add a few new guys and duplicate the group. Our group lasted 3 weeks. You can’t duplicate community. Tim and I stuck it out. We met every week for breakfast. Even when I was a chaplain, I took every Wednesday morning off. This lasted for 8 years! Every week. We even read Calvin’s Institutes, a two volume theology from the 1500's together. Every week today, Tim and I talk on the phone. There’s rarely a week that goes by that we don’t talk. Do you have a Tim in your life? Do you have others who you can call on to carry your mat? Because we all have our mats.
The mat can stand for our sinfulness, brokenness and imperfection. It’s what is "not normal" about us. It’s that "AS - IS" tag we try to hide. There’s no warranty on our woundedness. But only when we allow others to see our mat, when we give and receive help with each other, healing becomes possible.
Maybe your mat is a raging temper, fear, or an inability to trust. Maybe it's control. Maybe it’s an addiction. Maybe your mat is a terrible secret you still feel guilty about. Maybe it’s a deep sense of failure, or inadequacy, or loneliness.
Community is made up of people with all their goodness and badness. It’s made up of people who are strong and powerful; yet at the same time, we’re weak and poor. If you want a deep friendship, you can't always be the strong one. You will sometimes have to let somebody else carry your mat. That’s what happens in this story.
So, one day Jesus comes to town. These four men find out about it, and want to hear this famous rabbi. One of them says, "We can't just go ourselves. We've got to get our friend there. Maybe meeting Jesus will encourage him. Maybe Jesus really can heal our friend — that would be so cool! We have to get him there!"
They're not thinking about themselves. They’re thinking of him. Friends do that. Friends serve one another. When they get to the home, it’s packed, standing room only. "There was no more room, not even at the door." Jesus is so close, but they can't get through to Him. They never thought about that obstacle. They were so excited, now they’re shut out.
Then one of them gets an idea – "Guys — What if we make a hole and lower him through the roof! Whoa!"
It’s crazy, but it just might work, they’re desperate to get to Jesus. Nothing was going to get in their way.
Jesus looks up and sees the faces of four friends staring down at him. They have nothing to ask for themselves. Their only thought is, "If we can just get our friend close to Jesus …" That's what great friends want to do for each other.
Mark tells us this amazing fact in verse 5, “When Jesus saw their faith”
Usually healing stories speak of Jesus seeing the faith of the one asking for healing for themselves or their child. Here it's the faith, not of the man, but of his friends. Do you have any idea what the faith of one person can do for a friend?
They dug a hole through a roof and sent in their friend. They didn’t say a word! Not one word! Jesus saw a huge hole in the ceiling, four sweaty, dusty, anxious, and hopeful faces were lowering their friend.
Jesus turns and looks down at this guy on the mat. He sees not only a broken body but — as in every one of us — a broken person, a wounded soul.
Jesus simply says, "Son, your sins are forgiven."
I wonder what the man on the mat thinks at this point. He didn’t sign up to have his sins talked about. But when you get into a deep, loving community, vulnerability is acceptable, and grace is offered. And it’s amazingly powerful!
This man — who has been mocked and judged by people who assumed that his damaged body indicated that he was spiritually inferior — is told by Jesus, "You're clean. You're forgiven. You are right with God."
There were critics in that room, too. But I don’t want to get lost in the hardened and arrogant hearts. I wanted to focus on the healing through community. It’s been said when someone comes to our home, the foyer is for guests. It’s where we are more formal and welcome people. Then we move into the living room. That’s the casual room, where friendships are formed. But, it’s when we walk into the kitchen — that’s where we find we’ve become family. Isn’t the kitchen the place you go to when you’re comfortable.
Jesus was concerned for His critics. He loved them, just as He loves the men coming through the ceiling. So He puts His words into action — He turns to the man on the mat: "Get up, take your mat, go home." The guy on the mat, has got to be thinking, “SAY WHAT?!”
Everyone is watching. He had no muscle tone in his legs, the muscles had atrophied. Jesus not only cures paralysis but throws in muscle tone as well. The man stands up. He lifts his mat off the ground. He folds it up. He has spent his whole life on that thing. Now — never again.
His world has dramatically changed. Jesus has given him the gift of life, abundant life. Not just his body has been healed. His heart also. His soul. Every sin has been forgiven. Physically, relationally, spiritually, he’s the healthiest guy in the room.
He begins his journey home, walking, dancing, skipping and running. It’s a celebration! He keeps the mat in a corner of his home. And every time he looks at it, he remembers his amazing community of friends. Those 4 guys who crashed through a roof for him. His greatest gift was knowing Jesus, but he wouldn’t have known Jesus if it weren’t for his next greatest gift — his friends.
In his book, The Wounded Healer, Henri Nouwen wrote ~ “Community arises where the sharing of pain takes place, not as stifling form of self-complaint, but as a recognition of God’s saving promises. A Christian community is therefore a healing community not because wounds are cured and pains are alleviated, but because wounds and pains become openings or occasions for a new vision” (95)
