Today’s question is a simple one. It’s also a personal one, so you don’t need to answer it except for yourself. It’s this: Do you still play “let’s pretend”? “Let’s pretend.” Well for some of us this is the name of a radio program we listened to every Saturday morning. Yes, at one time, little kids did listen to radio programs. Rather than seeing cartoons and live action, we had to imagine what was going on. The pictures we saw were inside of our head and not on a TV screen.
But that’s what “let’s pretend” is all about, it’s imagining what’s happening. what you want to happen. Little kids play “let’s pretend” in many ways. But as they grow into big kids, another name for adults, they put aside childlike imagination – calling it, instead, childish behavior. They want to view only “reality” – and not look at what you can see with the “mind’s eye.”
However, I’d like to suggest, for the next few minutes, we put aside our so-called grown-up behavior and let our imagination return to its rightful place within us. After all, imagination is a gift of God. It’s the gift given to us so we can approach God as a child, a child of God. A child who listens to stories. who becomes part of the story, and who grows in understanding, because of the story.
The story I have in mind is the one told in our gospel reading for today. When you hear this story, is it possible for you to play the part of one of the characters in it? Is it possible for you to pretend to be with Jesus, himself, to be with him in the scriptures you read and hear? For this, after all, is the purpose of scripture. Scripture gives us stories about God’s interaction with his children, with us.
So, in today’s story, what character do you want to play? There are many to choose from. For the next few minutes, I’d invite you to close your eyes and become one of these many characters. For example: there are the people in the crowd surrounding Jesus. If you want to be part of a group and not stand out too much in your pretending, you might be one of those who merely listened to what Jesus had to say there in that house packed with people. And they were packed tightly together. Our story says that “… many gathered together [in the home where Jesus was staying] so that there was no longer room for them, not even around the door, and he preached the word to them.”
It was a crowd who merely listened to the word of Jesus. They may or may not have understood or accepted what he was saying. Within the crowd was a group of scribes. If you want, you can pretend you are one of them. They were the know-it-alls. The ones who did not agree with what Jesus was saying. They wanted everything to remain as it had always been. They were content with the certainties of their scripture, their writings of the law of God, even if their interpretation of the law was not life-giving.
And then something remarkable happened in our story. If you want, you can see it in your imagination. You can hear the noise on the roof, on the beams covered with straw. You can see the straw falling down on the people around you. You can cough with the dust falling on you. You can smell the debris as it covers those around you. You can see the beam of sunlight in the dust. You can hear the four men shouting as they lower a man on a mat stretched between two poles. If you are standing in the back of the room, pushed against a wall, you cannot see what happens next. You can only hear the mixed shouts of the scribes and others in the crowd.
You can just make out the words of Jesus speaking to them. And his instruction to the man who had been on the descending mat. Someone shouts that the man has been healed. He is no longer paralyzed. You catch a glimpse of him as he walks out the door where the crowds have now pulled back in amazement. Perhaps you, too, now join in the shouts of praise about this Jesus who has the power to allow the once paralyzed to walk out into the sunshine.
Or perhaps you remain silent. Puzzled by what has been going on. Or perhaps, as one of the scribes, you remain angered by the blasphemy you witnessed and believe it is a trick of Satan, himself. After all, it is your imagination. With it you can play any part you want to play. You can pretend to be whoever you want to be.
The same thing can be said about your real life, too. You can be whoever you want to be. You can be someone who merely listens to what Jesus is saying. You can be part of the crowd of observers. You can be impressed with the miracles you see all around you. Give them momentary praise and get on with your life as it was.
You can be one of the doubting scribes, one who demands the authority of the past and is unwilling to accept the signs of change all around you. One who scoffs and is critical of all that does not agree with what you have preconceived as being the truth. You might, also, be like the paralytic. One who has received a release from what once held you bound. One freed from what immobilized you. One who has heard the healing words of God: “Rise, pick up your mat … take what was once your protection … your comfort … what separated you from others … and now walk freely into the sunshine outside … enter into your new life.”
Or you might be like the four forgotten characters in this story. You might be one of the four who went to great lengths to help another person. One of the four who carried the paralytic to the home where Jesus stayed. Who struggled with him as you climbed onto the roof. Who tore apart the bundles of straw beneath your feet. Who felt the weight of the paralytic as you lowered the mat towards Jesus. Yes, you might be the one whose faith is so strong you are able to bring someone you love into the presence of the Christ who heals, who forgives, who offers salvation.
You can act as a member of the crowd who listens, praises and goes on with your existence as it was before. Yes, you can pretend to be one of the scribes and remain bound to the past. You can even be the one who is set free. Or you can be one who, with faith, helps someone in need of Christ’s salvation. You can play “let’s pretend.” Or you can be in the real presence of Jesus the Christ. The choice is yours. It is time to open your eyes and see.
Seventh Sunday in Ordinary Time: February 19, 2012
Is 43:18-19, 21-22, 24b-25; 2 Cor 1:18-22; Mk 2:1-12