Get Up, And Live Life To The Full
Sermon
They say the camera never lies, but that's no longer true, as the Royal Family proved on that famous occasion when Prince William's frown was suddenly converted into a glorious smile.
Mirrors are perhaps better reflections of the truth, but even they can distort the image they reflect. It can be quite a creepy feeling to go into the House of Mirrors in the fairground and see yourself as all sorts of all weird and wonderful shapes.
But even if the mirror is accurate, the mind can distort the images which are seen. For instance, people with anorexia who are stick thin, will see an outsize person when they view themselves in the mirror.
It's even more difficult to know what you look like without a mirror. People who have not been near a mirror for years for one reason or another, usually have a terrible shock when they view themselves again, for we're not really aware of the ageing process.
At a family wedding a year or so ago I passed by a niece with barely a second look, for she had changed so much since I had last seen her that I had no idea who she was.
A similar sort of thing happened to the woman who was in a coma for 30 years. Having fallen into unconsciousness at the age of something like 20, she awoke to discover she was now something like 50 and she couldn't recognise the person who stared back at her from the mirror.
I think I know exactly what I look like, but without a mirror I can't be certain. And I still get some nasty shocks, such as when I try on new clothes in a department store which has corner mirrors in a cubicle and therefore shows the parts other mirrors never reach!
Perhaps it's a bit like this inside your soul. I think I know exactly what I'm like, what are my good points and what are my sins. But it's only through interaction with other people that I can really determine what I'm like inside. Sometimes that interaction distorts the true picture, so it's only if I meet someone who will give me a true reflection of myself that I can really come to know what I'm like inside. And that, of course, can be a painful experience.
The young man in today's story had been paralysed for years. We don't know the cause of his illness, only that he wasn't able to walk and had to lie on his bed staring at the four walls and relying on his good friends to keep him company.
They were good friends, and they were people with a great deal of faith, but they were not able to accurately reflect the man's soul to himself. It was only when he found himself face to face with Jesus that his soul was truly reflected. All Jesus had to say was, “Son, your sins are forgiven.”
The young man may have been totally unaware until that moment that he had any sin. He may have been full of simmering resentment which he didn't recognise as sin. If somebody does me an injury and I'm furiously angry about it, I consider my anger to be justified. After all, it's the other person's fault, not mine. And so I continue nurturing a righteous anger, which soon becomes harsh and unforgiving and vicious.
Or he may have been full of a deep jealousy of other people's gifts which could possibly manifest itself as, “I'm no good, I can't do anything.” And so he lay on his bed, unable even to walk.
Or he may have been so damaged and rejected by other people in the past, that he was unable to form loving relationships with anyone, and so instead of facing his own inadequacies he lay on his bed and soon found he was unable to get up.
Or he may have been born paralysed through an accident at birth, or he may have been paralysed by an unfortunate accident later in life, and unknown to himself was harbouring a huge grudge against God for leaving him in this state.
The strong emotions generated through any of those scenarios aren't necessarily sinful, but if they aren't dealt with and instead are allowed to simmer and are nurtured into resentment or jealousy or grudges, then they become emotions which form a block to the free passage of God's love.
But perhaps it wasn't like that at all. Perhaps the young man had done something awful, and he knew he'd done something awful but he pushed that knowledge away from him because he didn't want to face it. Perhaps he was a bundle of guilt, which he couldn't even admit to himself.
Whatever it was, Jesus held up a mirror to the young man's inner being, and immediately the young man was aware of his own sinfulness. Jesus didn't spell it out, or remonstrate with him, or tell him he must confess and repent. Jesus simply took one look at him and said, “Son, your sins are forgiven.”
And having recognised his own sin, the young man was not allowed to wallow in it. He was to accept the forgiveness which was freely offered with no strings attached. He was to get up and get on with his life. “Take up your bed and walk,” said Jesus.
The young man wasn't allowed to creep away into a corner and lick his wounds. Neither was he expected to feel bad about his sin. Jesus expected him to accept the forgiveness which was offered with a heart full of rejoicing, and start over again.
I don't want to trivialise sin, but dwelling on it can stunt our growth. Jesus offers us eternal life, life brimming over with excitement and delight and happiness and purpose and fun. Those Christians who concentrate on sin to the exclusion of all else are often unable to revel in the eternal life so freely offered.
Jesus' message is, “You're forgiven. Whatever it was, you're forgiven. Now get up, and get on with living life to the full.”
Sin can paralyse in many ways. It can prevent people from taking any action, it can send them into a state of torpor. But Jesus says, “Get up and get on with it. Don't just lie there, get up and do something.”
If we can face him, recognize and acknowledge our sin whatever it may be and however hidden it may be, accept his forgiveness, then get up and get on with life, then we shall really know what eternal life is all about. Because then we shall be brimming over with an underlying joy and delight no matter what happens in life.
”Son, Daughter, your sins are forgiven. Take up your bed, and walk.”
Mirrors are perhaps better reflections of the truth, but even they can distort the image they reflect. It can be quite a creepy feeling to go into the House of Mirrors in the fairground and see yourself as all sorts of all weird and wonderful shapes.
But even if the mirror is accurate, the mind can distort the images which are seen. For instance, people with anorexia who are stick thin, will see an outsize person when they view themselves in the mirror.
It's even more difficult to know what you look like without a mirror. People who have not been near a mirror for years for one reason or another, usually have a terrible shock when they view themselves again, for we're not really aware of the ageing process.
At a family wedding a year or so ago I passed by a niece with barely a second look, for she had changed so much since I had last seen her that I had no idea who she was.
A similar sort of thing happened to the woman who was in a coma for 30 years. Having fallen into unconsciousness at the age of something like 20, she awoke to discover she was now something like 50 and she couldn't recognise the person who stared back at her from the mirror.
I think I know exactly what I look like, but without a mirror I can't be certain. And I still get some nasty shocks, such as when I try on new clothes in a department store which has corner mirrors in a cubicle and therefore shows the parts other mirrors never reach!
Perhaps it's a bit like this inside your soul. I think I know exactly what I'm like, what are my good points and what are my sins. But it's only through interaction with other people that I can really determine what I'm like inside. Sometimes that interaction distorts the true picture, so it's only if I meet someone who will give me a true reflection of myself that I can really come to know what I'm like inside. And that, of course, can be a painful experience.
The young man in today's story had been paralysed for years. We don't know the cause of his illness, only that he wasn't able to walk and had to lie on his bed staring at the four walls and relying on his good friends to keep him company.
They were good friends, and they were people with a great deal of faith, but they were not able to accurately reflect the man's soul to himself. It was only when he found himself face to face with Jesus that his soul was truly reflected. All Jesus had to say was, “Son, your sins are forgiven.”
The young man may have been totally unaware until that moment that he had any sin. He may have been full of simmering resentment which he didn't recognise as sin. If somebody does me an injury and I'm furiously angry about it, I consider my anger to be justified. After all, it's the other person's fault, not mine. And so I continue nurturing a righteous anger, which soon becomes harsh and unforgiving and vicious.
Or he may have been full of a deep jealousy of other people's gifts which could possibly manifest itself as, “I'm no good, I can't do anything.” And so he lay on his bed, unable even to walk.
Or he may have been so damaged and rejected by other people in the past, that he was unable to form loving relationships with anyone, and so instead of facing his own inadequacies he lay on his bed and soon found he was unable to get up.
Or he may have been born paralysed through an accident at birth, or he may have been paralysed by an unfortunate accident later in life, and unknown to himself was harbouring a huge grudge against God for leaving him in this state.
The strong emotions generated through any of those scenarios aren't necessarily sinful, but if they aren't dealt with and instead are allowed to simmer and are nurtured into resentment or jealousy or grudges, then they become emotions which form a block to the free passage of God's love.
But perhaps it wasn't like that at all. Perhaps the young man had done something awful, and he knew he'd done something awful but he pushed that knowledge away from him because he didn't want to face it. Perhaps he was a bundle of guilt, which he couldn't even admit to himself.
Whatever it was, Jesus held up a mirror to the young man's inner being, and immediately the young man was aware of his own sinfulness. Jesus didn't spell it out, or remonstrate with him, or tell him he must confess and repent. Jesus simply took one look at him and said, “Son, your sins are forgiven.”
And having recognised his own sin, the young man was not allowed to wallow in it. He was to accept the forgiveness which was freely offered with no strings attached. He was to get up and get on with his life. “Take up your bed and walk,” said Jesus.
The young man wasn't allowed to creep away into a corner and lick his wounds. Neither was he expected to feel bad about his sin. Jesus expected him to accept the forgiveness which was offered with a heart full of rejoicing, and start over again.
I don't want to trivialise sin, but dwelling on it can stunt our growth. Jesus offers us eternal life, life brimming over with excitement and delight and happiness and purpose and fun. Those Christians who concentrate on sin to the exclusion of all else are often unable to revel in the eternal life so freely offered.
Jesus' message is, “You're forgiven. Whatever it was, you're forgiven. Now get up, and get on with living life to the full.”
Sin can paralyse in many ways. It can prevent people from taking any action, it can send them into a state of torpor. But Jesus says, “Get up and get on with it. Don't just lie there, get up and do something.”
If we can face him, recognize and acknowledge our sin whatever it may be and however hidden it may be, accept his forgiveness, then get up and get on with life, then we shall really know what eternal life is all about. Because then we shall be brimming over with an underlying joy and delight no matter what happens in life.
”Son, Daughter, your sins are forgiven. Take up your bed, and walk.”
