But Jesus perceiving their thoughts, said, “Why do you think evil in your hearts?” For which is easier, to say, ‘Your sins are forgiven,’ or to say, ‘Stand up and walk’? But so that you may know that the Son of Man has authority on earth to forgive sins”--he then said to the paralytic--”Stand up, take your bed and go to your home.” And he stood up and went to his home. When the people saw it, they were filled with awe, and they glorified God, who had given such authority to human beings.
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The second part of understanding the scribe’s accusation of blasphemy was to consider how their reaction explains and/or moves this act to its completion. I have to admit that this is a particular hermeneutic, that I am reading their presence in the gospel story as having a particular function.
A different approach would be to see their presence as more passive, wherein Jesus acts and speaks as he does in order to provoke or challenge the scribes (or Pharisees) in order to provide a teachable moment. But as was my caution against reading the scribes as mere foils, so too do I think such an approach would lessen Jesus’ humanity. His would be a life of actions not done for their own sake or because it was the most human (and therefore, obedient and blessed) thing to do, but of actions performed as mere examples. It would make it such that we could separate Jesus’ teachings from his person, like actors in safety commercials.
I think such a hermeneutic would practically empty Jesus’ life of significance, because such is not what we mean by “living” life at all. And to follow this hermeneutic to it’s logic end, we see that the cross then becomes not the manifestation of love, or the act of utmost obedience to God, or the inevitable end true humanity meets in a world structured by sin; instead, the cross is but the last (even if greatest) “teachable moment.”
So it is my attempt to preserve the humanity of the One who is humanity in its fullest that I interpret the presence of, and conflict presented by, the scribes as the foils with which the gospel writers make evident that humanity in its fullness. And, following my conclusion from the last post, it is my view that the scribes bring Jesus’ humanity into relief not merely as foils, but also through the illuminating juxtaposition of their own (broken) humanity with that of Jesus. The humanity of both sides of the equation must be preserved, that the scribes or Pharisees are “foils” is just another way of saying that conflict moves a plot forward.
Turning now to Jesus’ response, I hope my last post has made it clear why Jesus begins his response with “Why do you think evil in your hearts?” Let me first, though, address Jesus’ seeming telepathy. It is not my view that Jesus had the ability to read minds. I think such a reading of the text is based on two misconceptions: 1) that the ideal form of communication leaves words behind and 2) that Jesus’ knowledge as God was “super-human” knowledge.
We have a funny notion that if we could only read someone’s mind, then we could know what they were really thinking, that we wouldn’t be deceived or confused by their words. And while we can indeed hide our true thoughts from others, it is not our words that cut us off from each other, but what we do with our words. Our world and our minds are formed as we learn language, and they grow together. We learn our world and our language together: what a bike is, what a mistake is, what church is. The myth of telepathy is but another manifestation of the desire for a universal language, which is itself the manifestation of feeling chafed by our own skin.
Second, since Jesus was both fully human and fully God, we can attribute the predicates of both to him without contradiction. So we can say Jesus was tall or short, and we can also say he was divine. And we can also say he has human knowledge and divine knowledge. What we need not do here, however, is think that these compete with each other or that one overrides the other. To think that Jesus’ knowledge as God was “super-human” knowledge is to think of God as merely humanity writ large. Attributing “knowledge” to God is something we have to understand as metaphorical (or analogical), in the same sense that God has anger or that he repents. Whatever it means for God to “know,” it does not mean that he simply knows everything whereas humans only know a little.
So how did Jesus “perceive their thoughts”? Maybe in the same way we perceive each others': we see the eyes that are holding back tears, we see the hands that are shaking in nervousness, we see the shoulders that drop in disbelief. Jesus perceived their thoughts. Do we need science fiction or the supernatural to understand this? Maybe it is simply that Jesus is so fully human, so intimate with the human condition (whereas we live in denial or confusion about it), that the scribes’ actions spoke only too clearly. Jesus “reads their minds/hearts” in reading what is there for everyone to see: their expressions, their body language, their secrecy. And how blind must we be to be so surprised that Jesus called the thoughts “evil” of those not rejoicing at forgiveness?
Jesus saw the scribes huddling together, whispering to each other, he saw the angry expressions that surely coincide with condemnations of blasphemy, he saw the faces of the self-appointed victims, he saw the displacement of guilt. And from all of this he understood that there was “evil” in their hearts. (And we should not take it lightly or as common place that Jesus calls their thoughts “evil.” For it evidences that he knows their charge of blasphemy was not a righteously motivated one, that at its root was not holiness but self-preservation.)
Jesus then puts a question to the scribes: “Which is easier, to say, ‘Your sins are forgiven,’ or to say, ‘Stand up and walk’?” I would imagine the scribes are left fairly befuddled by this question, likely thinking to themselves, “Who said anything about healing? And what does it matter which is easier?” Jesus’ response seems to leave the charge of blasphemy behind as irrelevant.
But maybe if we go back to the “evil” the scribes thought in their hearts we can better understand how Jesus’ response makes sense. For perhaps it is the case that for Jesus to respond to the charge of blasphemy would be for Jesus to not go deep enough; it would be simply addressing the surface accusation that, as I tried to show last time, was more of a symptom of the problem than the problem itself.
As I tried to show in the last post, the scribes’ charge can be read as the displacement of guilt and the attempt to preserve their position as author-ities. So Jesus asks them which statement is it “easier to say” or, put differently, “easier to claim authorship of”: “Your sins are forgiven” or “Stand up and walk”?
This question has the been at the heart of my confusion about the text, because, before rephrasing it this way, I had no idea how to answer it. For which is really easier to say? Well, to belittle the question, the forgiveness option has 6 syllables whereas the healing option has 4. More seriously, some would say it’s easier to proclaim forgiveness because by proclaim healing, it actually has to happen, so you’re putting more on the line. But would that then mean that Jesus takes the easy way out until he happens to see the scribes mumbling over in the corner? Or is it easier to proclaim healing? But that seems counter-intuitive too. It seems that either way you answer this question, you are still left with a problem. From this approach, the question only raises more problems rather than answering the one at hand.
But might it be the case that to even try to answer the question at all would be to miss the point, to miss the rhetorical intent? Might not the question be intended to respond to the scribes in a way that will silence them, that will lead them out of their “evil” ways of thinking into a promise of something, someone, greater?
It is Jesus’ rhetorical device here that is the clue to its interpretation. In Matthew 19:24, Jesus tells his disciples, “It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for someone who is rich to enter the kingdom of God.” Jesus’ use of “easier” here does not presuppose that either one is possible, but instead highlights the fact that neither are. That it is “easier” for a camel to go through the eye of the needle, itself an impossibility, only serves to highlight that it is all that much more impossible for one who is rich to enter the kingdom of God. The rhetorical device of comparing two things with “easier” is intended to emphasize the impossibility of both.
So if we return to Jesus’ question in Matthew 9:5, we see now that we are meant to hear the question as a rhetorical one: “Which is easier, to say, ‘Your sins are forgiven,’ or to say, ‘Stand up and walk’?” should be heard as, “It is just as impossible for you to be the author of forgiveness as it is for you to be the author of physical healing.” The point is that the scribes cannot say, they cannot author, either of these statements. They do not have that author-ity. Jesus’ statement returns their accusation of blasphemy with a question that both confronts them with their own human limitations, as well as the fact that they have overstepped those limits. Jesus' response returns the accusation.
And this is why his next statement is not a non-sequiter, but the logical conclusion. While Jesus’ question pointed to the limitations of humanity; his following words now point to the promise of God: “But so that you may know that the Son of Man has authority on earth to forgive sins”--he then said to the paralytic--”Stand up, take your bed and go to your home.”
The text could not be more beautiful. Jesus does not merely claim that, unlike the scribes, he possess true author-ity, he makes it manifest in his actions and in the body of the paralytic. While Jesus’ rhetorical question underscored the impossibility of both forgiveness and healing, his actions now demonstrate their possibility and reality in his person. Thus, this teaching concludes the same way as Matthew’s other use of the “easier” device: “When the disciples heard this, they were greatly astounded, and said, ‘Then who can be saved?’ But Jesus looked at them and said, ‘For mortals it is impossible, but for God all things are possible’” (19:25-26).
The Son of God has author-ity on earth because the Son is God, is the Author, and all things are possible for the Author because the Author writes all that is, defines what is, IS all that is. So Jesus brings that reality which is possible in God into existence because it is in him and him alone, as Son of God, that the author-ity to do so exists.
Jesus’ healing of the paralytic is meant to make manifest that author-ity: “But so that you may know....” While it still seems that the healing is only tentatively linked to the forgiveness, I think it might need to remain this way, or, at least, I am still working through what physical disability means in the kingdom of God. I think there may be something to the point I made earlier, about Jesus not doing things to prove a point, but because it is the most human thing to do...
A friend of mine recently shared some of his reflections with me on Mark’s (and Luke’s) version of the story. He writes:
“And Jesus, seeing their faith, said to the man- 'your sins are forgiven'” (Mark 2:5). Not exactly what we expect, is it? Well, it's not what the crowd expected either. It goes on to say that the scribes and “church people” there got really upset. “How can he forgive sins? Who does he think he is?” It's not until Jesus heals him physically that the onlookers are satisfied. In fact, it says “they were full of wonder and gave glory to God!” I wish we could see the world the way Jesus does. See, because the funny thing to me is we never hear any complaints from the cripple. Jesus forgave his sins! I mean, how cool is that? Just think, everything you've ever done wrong, big or small, all of it gone. No more guilt, no more pain. No more aching deep in your soul. You've spent your whole life lying on a bed of shame, and the Creator of the world looked into your eyes and took it all away. He smiled at you, and in that moment – that lifetime of frustration in your heart is replaced with peace. I think in that moment, the cripple realized that Jesus didn't see anything wrong with him. He had faith, and so to Jesus, he was good as new.
I think this is a beautiful insight. It transforms Jesus’ “know” (in “but so that you may know”) to something more than knowledge, at least knowledge as we tend to think of it, because it is a knowledge that itself brings healing in that it brings people into the knowledge of, and thus into participation in, the kingdom of God. The healing of the paraplegic actually does more to heal the people around him than it does for the man himself. He’s already been made whole in the forgiveness and the unconditional acceptance offered and found in the eyes of Jesus.
We need not necessarily posit some relationship between forgiveness and physical healing. Jesus even warns against trying to do so in John 9:1-3 and speaks of healing in this same way: “so that God’s works might be revealed in him.” In both John and Matthew, the bodies of these individuals are transformed from signs of brokenness in a world that knows only of impossibility (even if it lives in denial of it) to signs of promise that point to and themselves bespeak the kingdom in revealing the power and sovereignty, the author-ity, of God.
And, for the moment anyways, the people rejoice in the presence of the kingdom: “When the crowds saw it, they were filled with awe, and they glorified God, who had given such authority to human beings” (9:8). They have felt, vicariously through this man’s restored body, the healing touch of God. And they have the right response: wonder and praise, not blame and self-preservation, but awe and the glorification of God. But we hear no more of the scribes. Jesus’ response has appropriately silenced their charges, but we hear nothing of their joining in the glorification of God, and so they slip off-screen and the tension remains, and builds.
And just to cover all the bases, I do not think we need to feel discomfort at the crowds interpretation that God had “given such authority to human beings,” for this is precisely what Jesus is. And, what is more, it is through Jesus that such authority is given to human beings, since those who confess to be his body in being “church,” who share in his blood and body at Eucharist, have been promised (as has all humanity) and have received his Spirit and therefore share in his author-ity.
And so this is the mission of the church, this is the possibility that God has called the church to make a reality: healing and forgiveness. By the power of the Spirit, we participate in that author-ity, and so are given the responsibility, the charge, the great co-mission of authoring the kingdom of God in this world. But let us not ever believe that we have this author-ity of our own accord, that it is anything but gift. And let us bring ourselves as we truly are, in all our brokenness (or willingness to become broken) to Jesus, that He may author the kingdom in our hearts and in our skin.
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