Msgr. Peter Magee - St. Matthew’s Cathedral, 10 am, Washington, DC

It is neither difficult nor unusual to feel paralyzed by one’s sense of sin, one’s memory of sin, one’s attraction to sin. The human being almost compulsively does wrong. True, the classical, catechism definition of sin involves the idea of consent for the person to be subjectively guilty, and the fuller that consent the more likely the sin will be a serious, personal sin. Yet we know from modern human sciences that it is legitimate to state that, in doing wrong, some people are limited in the consent they give. It’s not that they have no freedom at all to say no, but that their freedom is somehow limited. This can be the result of deep psychological problems, leading people to act compulsively and in ways they would often prefer to avoid. They actually do wrong things, but the degree of subjective guilt is very reduced. At the same time, we must be honest and say that limited consent or freedom in doing evil can itself be the result of a habit of sin: the initial freedom to say no becomes diminished with every repetition of that sin, not because of psychological problems, but because the person has in some way made that sin their very own.

With all sin there comes guilt, and it is often the guilt that paralyzes us. But guilt can also be understood at least in two ways. There is a guilt that centers you on yourself, your failures, your disdain that you are not as perfect as you thought. It can be like a twisted form of narcissism: you get so caught up in the heavy pull, inwards and downwards, of this seemingly unbearable anguish that you get stuck in it; in the worst cases, you may even fall into it and drown in despair, a little like Narcissus who fell into the river and drowned because he was obsessed with his own beauty. This guilt St. Paul calls “guilt unto death”, and it would probably be the guilt of Judas. But there is also another guilt, a “guilt unto life”, which was probably the guilt of Peter. In a certain sense, Peter and Judas were equally cowards before the demands of being associated with Jesus. But the difference was that Peter, rather than turn in on himself, turned and looked to the merciful Lord. It did not mean he was any less guilty or had any more right than Judas for forgiveness; indeed, who has such a right? But Peter trusted that the Lord’s mercy was faithful and true, that it was greater than anything wrong he could do. Peter did not cling to self-indictment; he allowed the Holy Spirit to convict him of his sin in order to turn his heart back to Jesus. Peter believed in Jesus, and Peter was healed, ransomed, restored, forgiven. He would hear the consoling, longing, intimate, daring question of Jesus after the Resurrection: “Simon, son of John, do you love me more than these others?” And he would be able to say three times, not “I do not know You”, but “Yes, Lord, you know I love You”.

The faith of the four men who ripped open a roof to get their paralyzed friend to the attention of Jesus believed in the mercy of Jesus in a way that seemed to substitute for the sick man himself who probably was incapable of believing precisely because of his sins and paralysis. But for Jesus, the faith of those men was enough. Jesus listens to the prayers of those who believe in Him also for the good of those who do not. Jesus hungers and thirsts for our faith in His mercy; any little or big attempt we make to satisfy that hunger and thirst is met with an outpouring of divine gratitude and gracefulness. Jesus cannot be outdone in generosity. Nor can His Divine Heart fail to see and reward the smallest of efforts we make to come to Him for mercy.

When Jesus says to the paralyzed man: “Child, your sins are forgiven”, He is, if you like, teaching us volumes about Himself and His relationship with our humanity, broken and distorted by sickness and sin. He does not say to the man in the first place: “I heal you of your paralysis”. For Jesus knew that physical sickness was not the ultimate problem of this man, or of any human being. As we see later, after Jesus is questioned by the unbelieving scribes, the physical healing is intended merely to be an external sign or proof of the spiritual agility Jesus had restored to the paralytic, the agility of faith. Indeed, the purpose of the physical miracle was also to strengthen the faith of those present who had begun to believe in Him; and it was a throwing down of the gauntlet to the scribes to cease in their unbelief and believe.

In examining closely what the scribes say, they remind you of people on a quiz show who have all the clues at hand, but can’t see the answer staring them in the face. For, on hearing Jesus forgive the paralytic’s sins, they ask “ Why does this man speak this way? He is blaspheming (which would be true if Jesus were only a man). Who but God alone can forgive sins?”, which is perfectly correct. So they have clue 1: Jesus is truly man; they have clue 2: only God can forgive sins. Then Jesus Himself gives them clues 3 and 4. Clue 3: Jesus uses the term: “So that you may know that the Son of Man has authority to forgive sins on earth”. Clue 4: which is the proof of that power to forgive sins by the miraculous healing of the man. As to clue 3, the term “Son of Man” does not mean first of all that Jesus was born of Mary; rather, it’s a title used first in the Old Testament to describe the Messiah who would come to judge and rule the earth. It’s a term Jesus uses partly to reveal himself to those who were really listening to Him; partly to respect the sensitivities of the Jews who would have been outraged if He had simply used the term “Son of God”; but it was also a title Jesus employed because He wanted the Jews themselves to come to the realization of His divinity as Son of God, much as Peter did when, in answering the question of Jesus, “Who do people say the Son of Man is?”, Peter eventually spits it out, “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God”.

So effectively, the scribes have all the clues to reach the conclusion that: Jesus is truly man, truly God (precisely because he forgives sins) and demonstrates that He is the Messiah, both by the physical healings that Isaiah prophesied would take place in the Messiah’s times, and by His usage of the phrase “Son of Man” which signified the Messiah who would come to judge the world.

Like the scribes, so we have all the elements to come to a living faith in the merciful Jesus. But sometimes we hide behind our guilt. As Isaiah movingly puts it in the first reading: “Yet you did not call upon me, O Jacob, for you grew weary of me, O Israel. You burdened me with your sins, and wearied me with your crimes.” We are inclined to listen to the voice of our own inner Narcissus. We convince ourselves our sins are beautiful in their very ugliness and Christ and His Church are the obsolete leftovers of a time of history when we were paralyzed by their teachings and doctrines. We look away from the fundamental truth which is that only the truth of Jesus can set us free, free from sin, free from death, free from the abyss of guilt. Again, Isaiah: “it is I, I, who wipe out, for my own sake, your offenses; your sins I remember no more.”

Today’s Gospel continues to teach us that the Son of Man has authority on earth to forgive sins. It is a direct appeal to us to avail ourselves worthily and frequently of that authority which He continues to exercise through the ministry of priests in the sacrament of penance. If this sacrament were received more frequently, there would be fewer people living in the anguished paralysis of their guilt; there would be the reclaiming of spiritual freedom from the stranglehold of sin; there may even be psychological healing; there would be less cynicism and discontent with life and more joy and creativity in relationships; there would be a gradual surrender of one’s own mind, heart, soul, spirit and body to the Lord of Mercies, filled with compassion and tenderness, slow to anger and rich in faithful love.

Let me conclude by saying that there would also be greater joy in heaven and on earth, because the joy we would bring to the Divine Heart of God would overflow with festive gladness into the universe He has created, and who knows what blessings of peace and concord His Heart would grant to our troubled world?