The whisper went round the village like wildfire. “The Teacher is back!”
I didn’t hesitate. It had been a while since the Teacher was last in town. Then, he had taught in the synagogue and we had all been amazed. There was something different about his teaching- he spoke with an authority that most teachers just didn’t have. And he didn’t just talk, he acted. There were stories of people being healed, bodies and lives restored after they met Jesus, not just here in Capernaum but all over Galilee. And now he was back, and no one wanted to miss out.
Our friend Ben had been unable to move by himself for a long time. When we first heard about the Teacher we’d talked with Ben about whether the Teacher might be able to heal him, and decided it was worth a try. A group of us agreed to carry him to the Teacher next time he was in town. This might be Ben’s only chance, and we couldn’t afford to miss it.
By the time we got there, a crowd had gathered and the place was packed. They were even crowded around the door, straining to hear what the Teacher said. We tried to push our way in but there was no chance. My heart sank. There had to be some way we could get Ben to the Teacher. Then I saw it. Round here, everyone has a flat roof that’s almost like another room of the house. The steps leading up to the roof over where the Teacher was speaking were just beside us.
It wasn’t easy, carrying Ben up there, but we managed it with the help of a rope from someone’s fishing boat. No one paid us much attention, they were too busy listening to the Teacher and his stories. Once there, we started to rip up the roof, pulling the straw out of place until we had a hole big enough, then used the rope to lower Ben on his mat right through the roof.
They noticed then. Some people started shouting and came running up to the roof to see what was going on. But we didn’t care. We’d done it. Ben was lying in front of Jesus. What would he do?
Jesus crouched down to talk to him, although we couldn’t hear what he said because of the noise of the crowd. Then- he looked up at us. I’ve never forgotten the love, the compassion in his eyes. And a touch of humour too. He didn’t mind the broken ceiling. He just saw our hope, our faith that our friend could be healed.
The crowd had fallen silent again. Jesus looked back down at Ben.
“Son, your sins are forgiven.”
I’ll admit, I was disappointed. It wasn’t what we had hoped for. Forgiveness was all very well- the synagogue teachers would say it was more important than physical healing- but it doesn’t help a man put food on the table for his family. It’s easy to say, but it doesn’t change anything.
You could see the crowd thinking the same thing, muttering among themselves. A group of other teachers weren’t happy at all, and were muttering about blasphemy and asking who Jesus thought he was. Only God can forgive sins, after all.
Jesus knew what they were thinking. He looked straight at them and asked which they thought was easier, to heal someone or tell them they were forgiven? He didn’t give them a chance to answer, but turned back to Ben. He told him to get up, pick up the mat he lay on, and go home.
No one in the crowd spoke or even moved. There was total silence. Then slowly, Ben, who a minute before had not been able even to sit up without help, got to his feet. Then he bent down, rolled up the mat, and picked it up. Hesitantly at first but with more confidence in each step, he began to walk towards the door.
The crowd parted to let him through. They wouldn’t make space for him before, but now he was healed they drew back with murmurs of wonder. At the door he turned and smiled back at Jesus, then looked up at us, the smile so wide it covered his whole face. We hurried down to meet him, through the crowd that was now shouting, cheering, praising God. We greeted our friend, restored to health, knowing he was loved, valued, healed. We joined the crowd in praising God and continued celebrating long into the night. It was amazing. Who was this man?
