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Perspective. Some people learn about perspective in photography class. Some people learn about perspective in psychology class. I learned about perspective in physics class.
Perspective is the idea that what you see depends on where you are standing.
For example, let's say I stood on the top of a very tall building, right next to the edge so where I could look down on all the tiny little cars on the street below. And, let's say I held out an apple, and let go. I would observe the apple accelerate from a speed of zero while being held in my outstretched hand to a terminal velocity (or maximum speed) of something like 80 or 90 mph. The apple would continue to fall at this speed until coming to an abrupt halt at the ground.
Now, let's say, the apple had a worm. If this worm had eyes, it would look out of its little worm hole and, if it were a bit smarter than the average worm, it would notice that the building was traveling by awfully fast. And, no matter how smart the worm was, sometime before it figured out that the building was traveling something like 80 or 90 mph relative to the apple, the ground would hit the apple and give the worm something else entirely to think about.
What you see depends on where you are standing.
Right now, at this very moment, you are traveling at a speed of about 770 mph. The earth is roughly 18,500 miles around at this latitude. The earth spins on its axis once every 24 hours. Therefore, you and I are traveling at a speed of about 770 mph. How is it that our hair is not even ruffled? Why don't we get blown away? It's because the air around us is rotating with the earth at the very same speed. And you and I get to live under the illusion that we are standing still and the sun is moving.
What we see depends on where we are standing.
I invite you to enter into this text from Luke chapter 5 with me. Stand with me, and let me show you what I see.
When I read this passage from Luke chapter 5 about the paralyzed man and his friends, I usually take up a position right up front, inside the house, next to Jesus. I like being close to Jesus. Since I get to enter this story through the lens of my imagination, there's room for me wherever I want to be, so I stand right up front next to Jesus. From there I get a front row view of the friends lowering the man through the ceiling and Jesus responding to their faith and his need.
Take a moment, and stand there with me next to Jesus in your imagination. Get that picture in your mind.
When I get to the part in the text about the friends carrying their friend up onto the roof, I always find myself looking up. I hear the footsteps on the roof, and I see dust or plaster or sod or something falling from the ceiling in little bits as the tiles are dislodged. I always find myself wondering, did Jesus keep teaching up until the very moment the man appeared in front of him? Or did he pause when he heard the commotion on the roof and wait? I don't know the answer, but I always wonder about that.
Finally, the hole in the roof is large enough, and the friends slowly and carefully lower the paralyzed man through the roof down to the floor in the middle of the crowd, right in front of Jesus. When Jesus sees their faith, he says, "Friend, your sins are forgiven." The Pharisees (who are…remember this from last week…the good church folk) immediately begin arguing theology. A little bit later, Jesus speaks again to the paralyzed man. "I tell you, get up, take your mat and go home."
Immediately the man stood up in front of them, took what he had been lying on and went home praising God. Everyone was amazed and gave praise to God. They were filled with awe and said, "We have seen remarkable things today."
Standing there, next to Jesus, watching this all unfold, several observations come to my attention.
First is the affirmation, once again, that in the presence of Jesus, stuff happens.
This is primarily a teaching episode. Luke says so. "One day as he was teaching, Pharisees and teachers of the law, who had come from every village of Galilee and from Judea and Jerusalem, were sitting there." It was conference day. Learned men came from near and far to gather around Jesus that day and hear him teach. They got the front row seats there in the house. But Jesus was such a popular teacher that there was an overflow crowd of ordinary folks. They filled every open space in the room. They gathered outside every window. They congregated at the door.
But, wherever Jesus goes, it's never just about the teaching. When broken people get near Jesus, stuff happens. In the presence of Jesus, lepers get cleansed, fevers vanish, blind eyes begin to see, twisted hands stretch out, and chains of demonic influence are broken.
Wherever Jesus goes, it's never just about the teaching. When broken people get near Jesus, stuff happens. Sins are forgiven, shame is lifted, hardness of heart is softened, accusing fingers are lowered, and voices raised in condemnation fall silent.
Wherever Jesus goes, it's never just about the teaching. When broken people get near Jesus, stuff happens. Mourning is transformed to celebration, greed is transformed to generosity, selfishness is transformed to selflessness, despair is transformed to hope, isolation is transformed to acceptance, alienation is transformed to reconciliation, hearts that have been puffed with pride are taught some humility, and eyes that have learned only to look down are lifted up.
Wherever Jesus goes, it's never just about the teaching. When broken people get near Jesus, stuff happens. So it is in this passage. It was a teaching day. But when a man who was broken was brought into the presence of Jesus, stuff happened. His sins were forgiven and he was freed. His legs were healed and he was sent home rejoicing.
Wherever Jesus goes, it's never just about the teaching. When broken people get near Jesus, stuff happens. And, when stuff happens, everyone is amazed and gives praise to God.
The second observation is the remarkable determination of the friends of the paralyzed man. What perseverance! What love for their friend! What dogged refusal to be turned away or delayed or kept out! What ingenuity! What willingness to think outside of the box! What single-minded focus on bringing their paralyzed friend into the presence of Jesus!
These friends knew…when broken people get near Jesus, stuff happens.
You know it could not have been easy to carry their paralyzed friend from home to the house where Jesus was teaching. The difficulty of the journey didn't hold them back.
They arrived late. The crowd was thick and the way forward blocked. Still they did not turn back. Unable to elbow their way into the crowd, they went around the crowd. Into the house next door, onto the roof, over to where Jesus was. They found whatever tools were handy. They removed the tiles, and made cleared a space in the rafters big enough for a grown man. Straining to hold their friend, who could not hold himself, they lowered him down in front of Jesus.
I often wonder if one of those friends had already experienced the amazing life-changing power of coming close to Jesus. Did they develop their determination based on personal experience of Jesus? Based on the reports of others? Or based entirely on their love for their friend and their desperation to find someone who could help him? I don't know, but I wonder.
Whatever the reason, these friends showed dogged determination. Jesus called it faith.
Jesus said nothing about their interruption of his teaching workshop. Jesus said nothing about their destruction of property. Jesus said nothing about their refusal to wait in line until he had time for them.
Jesus saw their faith, and turned his attention to their friend. In the presence of Jesus, another life-changing event happened. A man was transformed. A life was renewed. A future that appeared empty was filled with new possibility. A new path was formed where before there was no path at all.
I give thanks that, at this time in my life, I have a few friends like that-friends who will pick me up and carry me to Jesus when I need it, especially when I can not walk on my own and can not find my way to Jesus on my own and have forgotten for awhile even how to cry out to Jesus on my own.
If you have friends like that, give thanks for them every day, pray for them, encourage them, and pray that you can be a friend like that for them.
If you need a friend like that and you aren't sure where to look for one, look at me, because I want to be a friend like that for you. I'm serious. If you need a friend like that, because you can not walk on your own or you can not find your way to Jesus on your own or you have forgotten for awhile how to cry out to Jesus on your own, find a way to let me know. Everybody needs a few friends like that.
The third observation that I make standing here in the house next to Jesus is that, while Jesus is busy making whole what is broken, the good church folk are busy arguing theology. What is the deal with that? Good theology is important. I'm all for good theology. I'm all for evaluating the practices of the church in a theological framework, and making every effort to expose error and proclaim the truth.
But how easy is it to get so caught up in theological debate that we lose sight of real people who need to enter into the presence of Jesus and be changed? How easy is it to get so focused on making sure our theoretical understanding of Jesus is right that we don't even notice when the living Jesus shows up and starts forgiving sins and turning lives around? How easy is it to get our heads so wrapped up in Jesus the teacher of the Kingdom of God that our hearts become impervious to Jesus the One who makes the Kingdom of God happen right in our very midst?
It's right about now, as I stand next to Jesus and look at the faces of those Pharisees gathered around Jesus, that I notice that I am standing right in their midst. When I enter into this text, the place I go first, without even thinking, is right up front, next to Jesus, right in the midst of the good church folk. I guess that shouldn't surprise me. I am a pastor. I spend a lot of time right in the midst of good church folk. It's not a bad place to be.
But then I wonder, what would we see, though, if we stood somewhere else? What would we see if we stood out on the road, outside the house, a few steps back from the crowd?
I invite you, in your imaginations, to move with me out there.
From here I can't see into the house at all. I can barely hear Jesus' voice as he teaches inside. All I can see are backs-shoulder to shoulder with no space in between-a sea of backs.
Standing out here on the road, it occurs to me that maybe the friends of the paralyzed man were not the only ones to arrive late. Maybe there were others, who were desperate to be near Jesus, who arrived also late. Maybe there were others who were broken and who were hoping to enter into the presence of Jesus. Maybe some of them tried to nudge their way into the crowd.
When the backs before them remained oblivious to their presence and impervious to their nudges, I wonder if some of them found a place on the edge of the crowd to sit down and wait. I wonder if some of them simply turned and hobbled away, convinced of what they already suspected-there was no place for them here.
Maybe there were still others who didn't even bother coming this far. They anticipated that there would be a sea of backs blocking their way-there always is.
I wonder what happened to all the others who did not have friends as determined and ingenious as the friends of the paralyzed man.
From out here on the road, I can see that the crowd is oblivious. Their faces are turned in toward Jesus. Their backs are turned out to the world. They simply do not see the desperate ones who are out on the road. Their ears are straining to hear every word Jesus is teaching. Convinced that only the words coming from the house are important, they are tuning out the sounds coming from the road behind them. They simply do not hear the broken ones who are out on the road. It wasn't that easy for them to find their way to this house on this day and to carve out a space in the crowd where they could see and hear Jesus. When a tap comes on their shoulder, they instinctively close ranks a little tighter and draw in a little closer. They don't even think to look at who it is that is tapping them on the shoulder.
Another pastor has remarked that this might be a parable for the modern, traditional church [Mark Buchanan, Leadership Journal, Winter 2007]. He calls it the "Roof-tile Syndrome." This is what he says:
"Roof-time Syndrome is when we are so caught up in the preaching of Jesus, we turn our backs to the needs of those still outside the building. We become barriers and not gateways. It's when we care more about keeping things intact than about restoring lives that are shattered. It's when we're more upset when stuff gets broken than excited when the broken are mended. It's when church gets reduced to the preaching of Jesus so that we fail to notice that we're seeing very little of the forgiveness and healing of Jesus. It is when we are so fearful about upsetting the religious folk (or homeowners) in our midst that we stop taking risks to get people to Jesus."
I wonder, how different would it be if the crowd turned a little as they gathered around Jesus? What if they kept one ear open for who might be coming up on the road outside? What if they glanced over their shoulders now and then, ready to part like the Red Sea and form a pathway to Jesus whenever someone in particular need of his touch shows up? What if the desperate ones did not have to elbow their way into the crowd, or search for a way around the crowd, or dig through the roof to get to Jesus? What if the all the people in the crowd were equipped with sledge hammers and shovels and picks? What if whenever an obstacle presented itself, the crowd descended on it, as determined to open the way to Jesus for the ones who are coming up behind them as the four friends of the paralyzed man?
I think Jesus would be ok with that.
Jesus never cared too much for stumbling blocks.
In the presence of Jesus, it's never just about the teaching. When desperate people get near Jesus, stuff happens. When broken people enter into his presence, transformation happens.
Calvary has been working for awhile at identifying potential barriers-that are invisible to the crowd that has their faces turned toward Jesus but that are barriers for those out on the road-and taking steps to remove them. We've been working for awhile at trying to be intentional about identifying obstacles and taking steps to remove them.
It was a few years ago now that Gail and I decided we could probably walk a few more steps from our cars to the building, and we put a visitor parking sign by the two spaces closest to the building.
Another thing that can happen when there is one crowd gathered around Jesus and another crowd out on the road is a language barrier can develop. Pastors like me go to seminary and learn theological jargon and then we show up in pulpits and teach folks like you theological jargon. Before you know it, people inside the church are speaking a whole different language than people outside the church. The more we do that, the more we insiders build barriers to folks out on the road.
Even the bulletin can do that. You folks-the ones who come to worship here every week-you know the Gloria Patri, you know the Doxology, you know the Lord's Prayer. You don't need these things printed in the bulletin. But someone new manages to nudge their way in, desperate to get near Jesus, they just might not know the words already; they might just benefit from seeing the words printed in the bulletin.
As soon as the soon clears and the ground warms up, we're going to get our new sign installed. We want to send a message to people that we aren't just gathering here for us; we want to be here for you.
Today I asked Tony to leave the doors of sanctuary open wide, not to close them as we begin worship. When somebody comes in after worship begins, whether they are a regular who is running late or a newcomer, I want them to know that they are not too late; there is a place for them and they are welcome. I don't want anybody to see those closed doors and get the message that they are too late. Today, the doors are open wide.
We're also working on having an open and welcoming sanctuary before worship even starts-so guests can come in when ever they arrive, know that they are welcome, and prepare their hearts for worship. In here in the sanctuary is where you veterans of Calvary worship services need to be too-preparing your hearts for worship, laying your own brokenness before God and praying for those who might find their way in off the street for the first time that day. As soon as God provides a working keyboard, the choir is going to practice before worship in another place so that the sanctuary can be open and available all morning. I appreciate Gail and the choir being willing able to think outside of the box and propose that idea.
Sometimes even good things need to be dismantled to make the way clear for the people who are most desperate for the transforming grace of God to find their way to Jesus. That day Jesus was teaching in the house, it wasn't bad for him to have a roof over his head-but that day that roof needed to have a hole ripped in it.
I brought in this sledge hammer today. I think I'll keep it near the pulpit on Sundays for awhile. Just as a reminder that any obstacle that presents itself needs to get torn down immediately. Just as a reminder to me and to all of us that building the Kingdom of God sometimes requires tearing down old structures that used to be gateways but have turned into barriers.
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