"There's no way we can fit into there"

A Gospel reflection for this weekend (Mark 2:1-12) I wrote for our catechist blog:

“There’s no way we can fit into there.”

I peer into the subway car packed with people to brim. There are so many people; I can feel heat emanating from the subway car as I stand outside.

“We’ll just wait for the next one,” I think. My Dad has a different idea as he starts entering the clown-car like full subway car, dragging myself and my other friends into the car with him.

Once inside, the smell of body odor attacks my nose and I wonder, “Why did I make this trip to China?”

Without a doubt, in the above the situation I found myself in the most person-packed place in my young life. There was no room in the car, none. Yet, we found a way to get there.

So it is with the Gospel this week. St. Mark describes a scene in not as much detail as above, but likely with a similar feel. Hundreds and hundreds of people are crammed into this house, hoping to hear a few words from a man they hear can heal the sick. There’s likely little air circulation, a heavy stench in the room, and the annoying guy from work is standing across the room.

Suddenly, from the back, four shouts are heard: “Let us in! We have someone that needs to see Jesus! We know he will help him!” But no one wants to give up their spot, some because they have a legitimate need for healing, others because they want to test Jesus, and still others out of sheer curiosity, for this Man has captured their attention.

Minutes later a crashing noise comes from above. Light streams into the room followed by a shaky eclipse. Straining from the adjustment from relative darkness to light to relative light all can barely make out what’s happening – a man is being lowered from the sky!

As the mat comes down, people are forced to make room. Personal space no more, it’s necessary for this man to land safely. Astounded, Jesus, on account of the faith of the paralytic, says, “Child, your sins are forgiven.” When pushed by the testy in the crowd, Jesus says “Rise, pick up your mat, and go home.”

The man who could no longer walk gets up. Shouts of pure joy and exaltations come from above: the paralytic’s friends can’t believe their eyes!

There’s a consensus among the crowd: “We have never seen anything like this.”

And so St. Mark presents us with an image of faith. Do we have what it takes to approach a seemingly impossible situation and dive in head first? Will we be like my Dad and move into the crowded car? Will we have the faith of the paralytic who, despite seeing and hearing the filled house, wouldn’t give up. He just knew that Jesus would heal him. Do we have the same faith in the same Jesus?

An image of community is also presented. Four friends find a way to bring their sick friend on the mat to Jesus. Sometimes we are the four friends, stopping at nothing to help our friends heal. Other times we are the one in need of healing. Often, we’re both in need of healing and the instrument through which God works to bring others to the place they need to be to heal. Yet, often we don’t want to admit that we are in need of healing, in need of a visit to Christ in the Eucharist, in Reconciliation, in the poor and homeless, in our parents, our children, our siblings. Jesus is there, waiting to embrace us, waiting for us to come through the roof, waiting for us to gently lower others through the roof.

If we live a life of such faith, a life of doing the dirty work, a life of service, a life of faith, hope, and love, a life that’s a living reminder of Jesus; if we live such a life, perhaps others will say, “we have never seen anything like this.”

Let us strive to live this life but never desire to hear those words, only desiring to echo the forgiveness, healing, and love of Jesus.