Grace to you and peace from God our Father, and the Lord Jesus Christ. Amen

And Jesus goes on.
Jesus goes on to heal and he goes on to challenge.
If last week he made himself an outcast, put himself outside the social order by touching a leper, and then actively disturbed the social order taking the role of the priest declaring the leper clean himself, then today Jesus for the first time directly challenges the authorities. He forgives the lame person his sins, and the scribes, experts in the Jewish law cry, “Blasphemy!” - Blasphemy is also the guilty charge leveled at Jesus in the end, leading to his crucifixion.
Jesus is not supposed to forgive sins. He can’t do it according the rules and regulations.
It may be hard for us to see why the forgiving of sins would be so upsetting, because for us as Christians this is nothing special, out of the ordinary. We expect Jesus to forgive our sins and receive grace in exchange for it. But if we allow ourselves to think of the sins for a moment as debt, economic debt, trespasses that are necessary parts of a bigger system, parts of an order that help keep it functioning, then we can imagine that forgiving sins, debt, trespasses without consulting the authorities is very upsetting.

In addition Jesus says, “The Son of Man has authority to forgive sins on earth.” This is very upsetting, too. The Son of Man is known from the prophet Daniel to be a heavenly being, coming with the clouds of heaven, to him was given dominion, glory, and kingship that shall never pass away. (Daniel 7:13-14)
Now Jesus claims to be this Son of Man. And he says he has authority to forgive sins on earth!? Heaven and earth touch? And Jesus says of himself that he is the one, the one in whom heaven and earth touch? The charge of blasphemy at least seems a bit more understandable now.

When Jesus speaks the word about the kingdom which has come near, we often do not understand what it means. There is little explicit explanation. But when we see that heaven and earth touch in this Son of Man we at least know that whatever goes on has cosmic dimensions. The time is ripe and the order of things has changed.

We live in this new time, sisters and brothers. It may be hard to realize, but baptized we live in Christ’s world where the rules have changed. Baptized, members of the body of Christ, we ought to judge the rules, the status quo of our daily life by whether they enable life; whether they provide an order to our lives that allows us and all people to breathe, unfold, and grow; or whether they benefit the order for the sake of the order and the keepers of the order. Where life is not allowed; where it is choked, restrained, where heaven and earth are not allowed to touch, the order must be challenged.

Something remarkable happens here every Sunday, dear congregation - the exchange of the peace. Before we begin the Eucharist, the pastor extends the peace to the congregation and we all then turn to each other with the words, “Peace be with you,” or “The peace of the Lord.” Now, this is not just a friendly little greeting, a sign of our conviviality. What we do when we reach out with our hand or with a hug is nothing else than creating the reality of Christ’s peace among us, multiplying it, peace that is the result of forgiveness. Forgiveness is real here, palpable, we increase it, every Sunday, bit by bit changing the world. It comes directly from Christ’s word, the word of the kingdom, the time fulfilled, sins forgiven, heaven and earth touching. The liturgical manual of our church warns us though that it works only when done with the intention to live in unity and the spirit of mutual forgiveness. We are warned that without the intention to live in such unity, participation in the Eucharist is mockery.

Dear congregation, we live in times and in a climate that are not conducive to conversation, to the exchange of ideas, views, differing opinions. If indeed we have been quiet as a congregation these past years in a range of social and political issues, it seems to me that we are part of the larger picture of society. In the process we have become locked in to our positions, walking around each other, sometimes unable to talk to each other in civil ways, and thus left to our own devices to shape opinions and discern the reality in which we live.
Yet, baptized brothers and sisters, fortunately we live in new times. We exchange the peace, result of forgiveness, result of heaven and earth touching. This small liturgical rite is the perfect starting point for conversation, conversation that is open, unafraid, conversation that allows to develop thoughts and opinions, not just exchanging the same arguments leaving us unchanged. That takes time, time, love, a sense of unity and mutual forgiveness.

“The Son of Man has authority on earth to forgive sins.” Why is this told in connection with the healing of a paralytic and not, say, with the raising of a person from the dead? Would that not have been a stronger image of his power to forgive sins? Why a paralytic?

The paralytic is on his mat day and night, he needs to be carried everywhere. His legs and feet do not support him. He can’t put his feet to the ground. Until he is healed by the Son of Man who has authority on earth to forgive sins. Now immediately the paralytic can put his feet to the earth, gets up and walks on the earth. And he walks home.
Just as the paralytic’s putting his feet to the ground symbolizes Jesus’ authority on earth to forgive sins, so does his unusual entry through the roof symbolize the movement of the Son of Man from his throne in the clouds down to earth. The Son of Man came to earth and is now home. Our story began like this, “When Jesus returned to Capernaum after some days, it was reported that he was home.”- We don’t know that Jesus had a home in Capernaum, but he was home. No wonder that so many gathered that there was no longer room for them, not even in front of the door. Jesus was home, heaven and earth touched, and the paralytic could go home, too.

Welcome home to you, too, sisters and brothers, and the peace of the Lord be with you.
Amen.