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As our planet whirls along we are walking together from summer into autumn in the still dominating Northern Hemisphere, where Holy Church arose and formed our liturgical rites and calendar.
With our shift into the harvest and dying season, the Church now presents end of the world themes and glimpses of the Second Coming. For example, in our Epistle for this 18th Sunday after Pentecost, in 1 Cor 1:9 we will hear: “[S]o that you are not lacking in any spiritual gift, as you wait for the revealing [apokalypsis]” as well as “the day of our Lord Jesus Christ.” This is an oblique way to talk about the Lord’s Second Coming.
We will go to Him or He will come to us. The results will be the same: the Four Last Things resolved for us once and for all. Therefore, we do well to head in the direction of Christ in our lives just as we really ought, in our liturgical worship of Holy Mass, face the liturgical East whence Christians through the millennia have anticipated the King of Fearful Majesty’s return.
Our Gospel reading this Sunday form Matthew 9:1-8 has its own “revelation”, its own “come to Jesus” and “Jesus is coming” moment.
Context. In Matthew 8 Christ is east of the See of Galilee in Gentile territory where He exorcizes demoniacs. The Synoptic Gospels (Matthew, Mark and Luke) differ in some details in their parallel accounts. In Mark and Luke there is just one poor naked energumen who, with his demonic-fueled strength cuts himself and breaks chains. The demons possessing him are called “Legion”, which is a unit of the Roman army numbering some 7000 with cavalry. In Matthew 8:22ff Jesus sends the demons into a herd of swine who rush suicidally into the sea. Try to imagine the scene of squealing and thrashing around as they walked together… er um… rushed (Greek hormáo) into their final synodal meeting. It was so terrifying that people begged Him to leave.
Let’s see our pericope:
At that time: getting into a boat Jesus crossed over and came to his own city. And behold, they brought to him a paralytic, lying on his bed; and when Jesus saw their faith he said to the paralytic, “Take heart, my son; your sins are forgiven.” And behold, some of the scribes said to themselves, “This man is blaspheming.” But Jesus, knowing their thoughts, said, “Why do you think evil in your hearts? For which is easier, to say, ‘Your sins are forgiven,’ or to say, ‘Rise and walk’? But that you may know that the Son of man has authority on earth to forgive sins”—he then said to the paralytic—“Rise, take up your bed and go home.” And he rose and went home. When the crowds saw it, they were afraid, and they glorified God, who had given such authority to men.
We have parallels of today’s Gospel from Matthew in Mark 2:1-12 and Luke 5:17-26. In both parallels the paralytics friends tear open the roof and lower him down to where Jesus was inside the house. In John 5:1-9, Our Lord is in Jerusalem at the pool of Bethesda where on the sabbath he heals a man who had been ill for 38 years. At the end of all four accounts, Christ says to the newly restored man “take up your pallet (bed)” and walk or go home.
The inclusion of the pallet or bed in all four is noteworthy. We might drill into it.
Augustine of Hippo makes argument (en. ps. 36/3.3) for a symbolic or allegorical interpretation of the scene of the roof-breakers and their friend. He says,
You see that it is an obscure passage, and if obscure it is covered over as though roofed. I see on the one hand a person spiritually paralyzed, and on the other this roofed-over text; and I know that Christ is hidden under the roof. As far as my strength permits, I am going to do what those people in the gospel were commended for doing when they opened the roof and lowered the paralytic to Christ … allow us to open the roof, if we can, and let you down to the Lord.
One theme that the Fathers explore, along with making a journey toward the Lord, is that taking up the bed and walking is like the soul in mortal sin returning to sanctity and returning to the Paradise that Adam lost in Original Sin.
St. Hilary of Poitiers in commenting on this passage (On Matthew 8.7):
Then, with the taking up of the pallet, he made it clear that bodies would be free from infirmity and suffering; lastly, with the paralytic’s return to his home, he showed that believers are being given back the way to paradise from which Adam, the parent of all, who became profligate from the stain of sin, had proceeded.
Furthermore, Ambrose in his Exposition of the Gospel of Luke 5:14 explains:
What is this bed which he is commanded to take up, as he is told to rise? It is the same bed which was washed by David every night (Ps 6:6; 6:7 LXX), the bed of pain on which our soul lay sick with the cruel torment of conscience. But if anyone has acted according to Christ’s teaching, it is already not a bed of pain but of repose. Indeed, through the compassion of the Lord, who turns for us the sleep of death into the grace of delight, that which was death begins to be repose. Not only is he ordered to take up his bed, but also to go home to his house, that is, to return to Paradise our true home which first fostered man, lost not lawfully, but by deceit. Therefore, rightfully is the home restored, since he who would abolish the obligation of deceit and reform the law has come.
Augustine in preaching (tr. Io 17.9.2-3) on the scene in John 5 offered this, in which actions in love of neighbor bring one closer to Christ:
What significance is there, then, in the bed, I ask you? What, except that that sick man was carried on the bed, but when healed, he carries the bed? What was said by the apostle? “Bear your burdens, each for the other, and so you will fulfill the law of Christ.” (Gal 6:2) Now the law of Christ is love, and love is not fulfilled unless we bear our burdens, each for the other. “Bearing with one another,” he says, “in love, eager to preserve the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace.” (Eph 4:2-3) When you were sick. Your neighbor was carrying you. You have been healed: carry your neighbor. So you will fulfill, O man, what was lacking to you. “Take up,” therefore, “your bed.” But when you have taken it up, do not stay; “walk.” In loving your neighbor, in being concerned about your neighbor, you are taking a trip. Where are you taking a trip to except to the Lord God, to him whom we ought to love with all our heart, with all our soul, with all our mind? For we have not yet reached the Lord, but we have our neighbor with us. Therefore, carry him with whom you are walking that you may reach him with whom you long to stay. Therefore, “take up your bed and walk.”
Augustine in various places writes of beds and the dreadful spiritual trap of sloth or acedia, spiritual indifference. In en. ps. 41.4 he says:
You have been a paralytic inwardly. You did not take charge of your bed. Your bed took charge of you.
Taking a cue from the Doctor of Grace’s admonition about love of neighbor and works of mercy, above, we can examine ourselves and our real actions and our attitude in performing them. Is there a tendency toward minimalism? Doing the least to feel good about ourselves having done something? Is there reluctance, such as the childish complaint of “Do I have to?” when faced with a task? The same might be asked about our prayer lives.
Let us walk the walk when walking together toward the Lord. Not a fake walk or a cake walk. A real walk.