Imagine being in the room with Jesus that day. Imagine being some of the first people to hear that he is back in town. Imagine that we were some of the first to arrive – that we are some of the lucky few who are seated in the room with Jesus. We can look at him as he speaks – we can see his eyes light up as he talks – we can hear the confidence in his voice as he tells us a new story about God’s love for the world. The room is filled with people, and the doorway is filled with the faces of others who are straining to get as close as possible to Jesus. We are the lucky ones, sitting right there with him, listening and learning, being filled with hope.
As we listen to Jesus’ voice, we become aware of sounds over our heads. Someone is on the roof. That’s not an unusual occurrence, but the sounds are getting louder, and it’s getting harder to hear Jesus’ voice. As we strain to hear his words, bits of dried mud and straw and wood begin to fall into the room. We watch – horrified – as larger pieces of debris fall into the room and we realize that people are tearing the roof away. For a few moments, beams of sunlight stream into the cloud of dust that fills the room, then the room is darkened again as something fills the opening in the roof. Something is being lowered into the room, and after a moment, we realize that it’s a man. And then we see his face, we recognize him - the paralyzed man who lives at the other end of the town.
Jesus looks at the man. He looks up at the faces of the people who have brought
the man to him.
He looks at the man again and says “Son, your sins are forgiven.”
Some of us in the room are wondering how Jesus could possibly say that, how
he could possibly forgive sins, and he tells us all that he will use whatever
words will let us hear that he brings the good news of God’s love.
He tells the paralyzed man to stand up, to pick up the mat he’s been lying
on, and to go to his home. And the man does as he’s told. The man who
was carried into Jesus’ presence walks home in freedom.
As we look back on this story today, we don’t know anything about the man except that he was paralyzed and that there were people who cared deeply for him. We know even less about the people who brought the paralyzed man to Jesus that day. We don’t know if they have personally experienced healing at his hands. We don’t know if they have ever even seen him or heard him before. Perhaps they have just heard the stories and believe that they must bring this man into Jesus’ presence. We don’t know if they were the last ones in town to hear about Jesus’ return to Capernaum. We don’t know why they weren’t first in line that day. We do know that they believe he will be healed if they can just bring him into Jesus’ presence. We do know that they are willing to do whatever it takes to bring the man to Jesus. We do know that they are willing to do whatever it takes to change this man’s life forever.
What a bizarre story this is! Most of us have heard this story so many times that it no longer seems strange to us. It is part of our story, and we accept it as a frame for God’s action in our lives and in the world, as part of the frame of our Christian faith. But people hearing this story for the first time can hear what a strange sequence of events this is.
In a few moments we will be doing something that would strike many people as equally bizarre. Today we baptize Jedzia Tiffany into the body of Christ. Today a father and mother, Grant and Fritzie, in the company of a large group of people who love them, will carry a tiny girl – an almost 7 month old with the biggest eyes you’ve ever seen – to the middle of the church.
I will say a lot of words. You will say a lot of words. We will all say a
lot of words together.
Then I’ll hold Jedzia over the water, and pour water over her head three
times as I say more words. Then I’ll mark a cross on her forehead with
as much oil as I can get on my fingers, saying even more words. Then we’ll
give her a candle, lighted from the large Paschal candle, accompanied by still
more words. I’ll walk with her down and back up the aisle, and people
will smile and clap, and then, I’ll walk down and up again, sprinkling
as many people as I can with the water of baptism.
A stranger among us would certainly think this is a bizarre thing we do this
morning. But Jedzia’s parents – Grant and Fritzie – and all
of her family and friends know exactly what we are doing. We are bringing Jedzia
– this tiny mite of a girl baby – into Jesus’ presence in
a way that will change her life. Today, Grant and Fritzie make a solemn promise
to God That they will do their best to help Jedzia become the person God creates
her to be. Today, they promise that they will teach Jedzia to live in a way
that will help her fulfill the covenant they make in her name.
Today, they acknowledge their own faith and promise to help Jedzia know the
presence of the risen Christ in every day of her life. And today, they ask our
help in keeping those promises.
What we do today, the promises we make to Jedzia and her family and to God will also change the lives of all of us who are present, just as the lives of those who brought the paralyzed man to Jesus were changed forever. Today we will all learn yet again that we can’t take someone into Christ’s presence without going there ourselves.
As we welcome Jedzia into the Body of Christ, we are reminded once again that we are also members of that Body. As we welcome this sinless child, we are reminded that our sins – those from yesterday and those we have yet to commit this afternoon – are forgiven. As we welcome this sweet child, we are reminded that we also were once welcomed, and we give thanks.
Thanks be to God.