By The Very Rev. Dr. Sergius Halvorsen, Assistant Professor of Homiletics and Rhetoric
This sermon by Archpriest Sergius Halvorsen, on Mark 2:1–12, was delivered at Sts. Peter and Paul Greek Orthodox Church in Glenview, IL, on Sunday, March 8, 2026. (Photo courtesy of Dr. Randa Karadsheh Anderson)
Paralysis.
That is a scary word. When someone is in an accident, or is gravely ill, we dread that word, “paralysis.” We ask, “Are they paralyzed; will they be able to walk again; is the paralysis permanent; will they recover?” Losing the ability to move, to work, to care for loved ones can be devastating. Paralysis is scary. And today we hear about a paralyzed man that is brought before Jesus.
The man is carried by four of his friends on a pallet, a kind of stretcher, but when they get to the house where Jesus is preaching, they cannot get inside. The crowd is too large, there are too many people in the way. So, the man’s friends figure out a way to get him up on the roof, dismantle part of the roof, and lower the man down into the house.
The friends go to heroic lengths to help this paralyzed man. But when you’re hurt, when it is hard to get around, it can be hard to accept help. When people offer to help, the instinctive response is to just try harder to do it yourself. Someone reaches out and says, “Here, let me give you a hand,” or, “Here, let me do that for you.” I usually say, “No thanks, I’ve got it.” And then I fight really hard to do everything by myself.
When it is hard to move or to complete everyday tasks, I hate to admit that I’m weak, or that I’m struggling. So, I politely refuse help: “Oh, thanks, that’s really nice of you to ask, but I’ve got it.” And most of the time I can pull it off. Most of the time I can just grin and bear it, I can fight through the pain and do what I have to do. If I was lying in bed and my friends tried to carry me somewhere, I would argue, “Please, that is not necessary. You don’t need to carry me, that’s a bit much.” And then, if they carried me up on the roof and started dismantling the house in order to lower me down inside, I would really object, “Hey, wait, this is ridiculous! Don’t make such a fuss, I really don’t think this is a good idea.”
It is easy to refuse help, to say that I’m really okay. But what happens when I’m not okay? What happens when it hurts so much that I cannot grin, and I’m just too weak to bear it? What happens when I can’t do everything by myself?
The paralyzed man, lying on that stretcher in front of Jesus, was extremely ill, and physical pain and illness can harm the soul. If the paralyzed man had been in an accident, or had a grave disease that robbed him of his physical strength, his physical paralysis may have caused spiritual or psychological paralysis as well. Physical illness or paralysis can tempt you to just give up: to give up on life, to give up on prayer, to give up on God.
But paralysis also works in the other direction. Maybe the man had suffered a devastating loss, like the death of a child or a spouse; or maybe he had witnessed horrible acts of violence; or maybe he was a victim of abuse. Maybe this man suffered from emotional and spiritual paralysis. He may have thought that his life was simply too hard, or that this world was simply too evil, or that his grief was just too much to bear.
So maybe the paralyzed man had given up all hope. Maybe his arms and legs and nerves and muscles were all perfectly healthy, but maybe his soul had been shattered beyond repair. This kind of paralysis also happens. Paralysis can start in the flesh and move to the soul, but it can also start in the soul and move out to the flesh.
Today, maybe you and I are not hurting as much as the paralyzed man that is brought before Jesus, but we all suffer from some kind of paralysis. When I think of all the sadness and the pain and the loss in my life; when I think of all the horrible mistakes I have made, all the ways I have hurt other people; when I think of all the opportunities I have squandered, and all the gifts I have wasted, a kind of paralysis creeps into my soul.
This kind of paralyzing temptation says, “You’re never going to get better. You’re only going to suffer more.” These kinds of temptations can lead you to give up on life, to give up on prayer, to give up on God. We might still go through all the motions, yet, somewhere deep down inside, part of the soul is paralyzed like that man on the pallet that comes before Jesus.
Spiritual paralysis keeps me from doing God’s will. Spiritual paralysis keeps me from loving people who are hard to love and forgiving trespasses that are really hard to forgive. Spiritual paralysis keeps me from opening the door of my heart to God’s saving grace.
But today, our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ says to the paralyzed man, and to us, “My child, your sins are forgiven.” God calls us His children. Jesus says to you and me, “My daughter, my son, your sins are forgiven.” When God forgives our sins, it is not some sort of adjustment to the cosmic spreadsheet of good and evil. That is not how God works.
When Jesus says, “Your sins are forgiven,” He is saying, “No matter how much guilt is weighing on your heart; no matter how much dark shame is crushing your soul; no matter what you have done, I love you.” When God says, “Your sins are forgiven,” God is saying, “I love you, just as you are, right now.” God knows our weakness, He knows our guilt and our shame, and He says, “I love you and I want you to be free.”
God’s forgiveness is the gift of freedom and new life.
Of course, we might be like the scribes who questioned in their hearts when Jesus spoke to the paralyzed man, and we might be questioning in our hearts, “Is it possible, can Jesus actually forgive me?” “Can God love a person like me with all my failings?”
Jesus knows our doubt, and He says to us, “Why do you question like this in your hearts? Which is easier, to say to the paralytic, ‘Your sins are forgiven,’ or to say, ‘Rise, take up your pallet and walk?’ But that you may know that the Son of man has authority on earth to forgive sins.” Jesus says to us “Rise, take up your pallet and go home.”
When the paralyzed man stands, picks up his stretcher, and leaves the house in front of everyone it is a sign that God’s love is real, that God’s love is powerful, and that God’s love transforms us. And sometimes God gives us miraculous physical healings to remind us of His love and goodness. But God’s mercy is much deeper, and much more powerful than that.
Long after the paralyzed man picked up his pallet and walked out of the house, Jesus encountered another man who was paralyzed. This man was not a good guy. He was a criminal, a thief, someone who had committed crimes and had been sentenced to death. This man had not been brought to Jesus by his friends, his friends had abandoned him. He had been carried by Roman soldiers to Golgotha, and there they crucified him next to Jesus. This man was the Good Thief, one of the men who was crucified with Jesus.
We don’t know exactly what the man had done to arrive at that horrible end. But, we know that something had gone terribly wrong in his life, and in the end, the Roman authorities hang him on a cross and leave him there to die. Yet in the middle of that awful situation, with all that pain, and shame, and guilt, in front of all those people who were jeering and shouting, and gawking at the spectacle of public execution, the Good Thief says to Jesus, “Remember me in Your kingdom,” which is another way of saying, “Jesus, You are my Lord, and I believe that You have the authority to forgive sins. Have mercy on me, and remember me in Your Kingdom.” And Jesus responds, “Truly, I say to you, today you will be with Me in Paradise.”
Jesus does not miraculously free the man from crucifixion. Jesus does not say, “Climb down from the cross and walk.” Jesus says, “Truly, I say to you, today you will be with Me in Paradise,” which is another way of saying, “My child, your sins are forgiven; you are loved by God, just as you are—a broken, hurting, person, dying on the cross. You are loved by God, you are forgiven, and you are welcome in the Kingdom of Heaven.”
The Good Thief continues to suffer on the Cross, and the soldiers ultimately break his legs to hasten his death. Jesus does not set the Good Thief free from his physical suffering in that moment, and ultimately the Good Thief dies on the cross. But, Jesus heals the spiritual paralysis of the Good Thief, and welcomes him into the Kingdom of Heaven. Jesus heals the soul of the Good Thief so that he can receive God’s love and mercy.
So, when we are suffering, and when our physical suffering continues, God still loves us, He forgives us, and He desires to be in communion with us as His beloved children. And receiving this gift of eternal life from our Lord, being freed from the paralysis of guilt and shame and sin, God calls us to share His love in the same way that Christ shared God’s love with the thief on the Cross. In the moment that Jesus faced the greatest evil, when He was surrounded by the most hateful darkness, He brought love, and forgiveness, and everlasting life to the Good Thief. When Jesus allowed Himself to be nailed to the cross, when He was physically immobilized—paralyzed on the Cross—Christ was still working miracles of love and forgiveness.
Which means that no matter how we might suffer—maybe we are confined to our bed, and maybe we are not getting better—God’s love still transforms and brings new and everlasting life. Because God does not command us to “get better,” He commands us to love and to serve.
So, today we ask our merciful Lord, “In this moment, Lord, in my brokenness, and weakness, heal me of my spiritual paralysis. Open my heart to accept Your love and Your mercy and Your forgiveness. Strengthen me to love when it is hard; give me courage to forgive when it is not easy; illumine my heart with the light of Your perfect love. Lord, remember us when You come into Your Kingdom.”
Amen.
