In the early days of our friendship I remember him saying things that I’ve never forgotten, like his dream was to open a bar one day and call it “Tired of Trying.” (He’s never done it.) I remember once sitting around with a group of friends and we were talking about the hardest thing we ever had to do. One woman talked about the struggles she went through when her best friend died. Another said, “When I was ten my mother got sick with a terminal illness and I remember all the pain it caused my father and siblings.” Another said, “I think the hardest thing I ever experienced was the betrayal of my friend.” Then, after all the reflections of carnage, it was Mike’s turn and he said, I think the hardest thing I ever experienced was driving to Florida without my glasses!” After the stares and muffled laughs subsided he told about hitchhiking home from college for Spring break and falling asleep in the back of a stranger’s truck. When the driver got to the “drop spot”, he shouted for him to wake up and get out; and Mike did, without his glasses. I think he said his glasses went to Rochester and he went to Bethlehem, picked up a car, and drive to Florida.
I could regale you with such stories for
hours. He was one of my groomsmen. I officiated at his wedding. But the reason I tell you all of this is that
a few weeks ago my dear friend was diagnosed with an inoperable brain tumor and
he’s scared to death. I’ve
never seen him so scared. And one of the
reason’s is that he doesn’t know Christ, yet.
For Mike, and so many others, this world is a “closed system.”
Last week I was able to take some time to visit with him and
his wife. For two days I engaged in
their new routine, including a trip to Cleveland for a radiation
treatment. Throughout our time together
there were laughs and tears, and something we’d never done – praying together, holding
hands. Interestingly, and
understandably, every time I’d pray, Mike would convulse in silent sobs. Mike’s desperate. The all-consuming focus of his life is the
terror of this tumor.
I will refer to an incident that happened last Friday night
with Mike and his wife in the message on Sunday, because it closely parallels
the story Luke tells us in 5:17-26. Just
like the paralyzed man and his four friends who carry him to Jesus, Mike needs
the same encounter with Jesus they had.
Like the paralytic, he needs to hear those same words from Jesus. Here in a house on the northwest coast of the
Sea of Galilee, Jesus instantly diagnoses the problem and offers the perfect
remedy – Forgiveness. As we will see on
Sunday, just as forgiveness is the heart of the Gospel, forgiveness is the
heart of the cathartic healing we all need.
In preparation for Sunday’s message entitled “Diagnosing the
Problem,” you may wish to read Luke 5:17-26 and Isaiah 6:1-7 and consider the
following:
- How important is the “paralytic” story?
- How important do you think it is to Luke?
- What parallels do you find between Luke 5:1-9 and Luke 5:17-26?
- You’ve heard the expression, “Missing the forest for the trees.” What is the forest here? What are some of the trees?
- Why does Jesus address the man as “man” and not “son”, or “my child”?
- Whose faith prompts Jesus’ statement of forgiveness?
- Why does Jesus focus first on the man’s sins rather than his suffering?
- What do you think of this statement? “I think that when God wants to play a really rotten joke on you, He grants you your deepest wish?”
- Whose thoughts does Jesus perceive in verse 22?
- What is easier - to forgive sin or heal paralysis? Why?
- How does this story inform someone like my friend Mike?
See you Sunday!
