The Forgiveness of Abel

Jesus returns to the Triangle and begins teaching in a house. The home is so jam-packed with students that when a group of buddies come carrying their friend on a stretcher, they cannot enter the home. They proceed to climb to the roof of the insula and begin tearing through it. Now, in this culture, tearing through the roof is quite an ordeal; it’s going to take you many minutes, if not hours, to work up a sizable hole. This is a roof consisting of multiple layers of branches covered in mud, with more branches and more mud.

Keeping this in mind, it’s interesting to note the difference in cultures. In our world, upon seeing the determination of this group of do-gooders, we would stop the teaching, call them to come down (before they ruin someone’s home), and make space. But, in beautiful rabbinic fashion, this is not how the situation proceeds. We are not told the details, but you can imagine Jesus stops teaching, takes a seat, stares up at the hole appearing above Him, and crosses His arms with a look of, “Oh, this will be good!” Or does he keep teaching as dirt and other pieces of roof fall on His head?

Eventually, the paralyzed man is lowered through the roof and Jesus, having had time to think about His response, declares to the man that his sins are forgiven. Another fun detail to notice in the Text is that it says Jesus saw the faith of his friends. Does this intentionally suggest the man had no faith? It’s hard to say. But if he was struggling with faith, it wasn’t helped by the Rabbi talking about his sins. 

“Yes, thank you, Rabbi. I was obviously lowered through the roof to have my sins forgiven. Don’t mind my paralysis; it’s no big deal.”

But Jesus, as any Rabbi, is more concerned with His teaching point than His miracle. The miracle is a tool and the man is a prop for Jesus’s greater point. I don’t say this to be cold, as if Jesus was lacking in compassion; we are told quite the opposite multiple times in the gospels. Jesus is a very compassionate teacher, but the rabbinical method is about teaching the Text, and Jesus is going to do that through this paralyzed man.

I believe this teaching gives us a window into what Jesus’s lesson was about that day in the house. I think Jesus was talking about forgiveness.

As we’ve mentioned multiple times already, forgiveness was a tough conversation for Jews of the first century. They sat under the oppressive rule of Rome and were wrestling with the big questions of injustice.

Okay, it’s one thing to go to captivity because of disobedience; Babylon was understandable. But now, we are trying to do the right thing and God is not rescuing us from the Romans. Why? How can God let this happen?

And so the Jews looked for answers where they always look for answers: in the Text. They asked themselves, who was the first person in the Scriptures to suffer injustice for doing what was right? The answer: Abel.

Abel, the son of Adam. In Hebrew: Avel ben Adam.

But Adam is more than just a name. Adam in Hebrew also means “mankind.” So to be the “son of Adam” also means to be the son of man.

And the Jews said, “God has spoken to us about a Son of Man before! He told us in Daniel that the Son of Man will come riding on the clouds!”

And the belief began that Abel would come back and avenge the injustice of the ages. (How literal that belief was is the wrong question to ask.) Abel would avenge his blood, right the wrongs of the world, and bring shalom back to the chaos. Abel would be the fulfillment of the prophesy of Daniel.

Jesus’s words are stunning if this happens to be the context of His conversation that day in the house:

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, pick up your bed and go home.”

And Jesus says that, in fact, Abel might come back and forgive the sin of Cain.

That’s scandalous.

I was told by my teacher that Jesus is the only Jewish teacher in recorded history (before His day and since) ever to suggest that Abel will forgive the sin of Cain.

Not only that, but Jesus is facing the accusation of doing what they believed only God could do. There are only two figures who can forgive sins; one is God Himself, and the other is the High Priest, who has to be very careful about doing so without God’s blessing. It’s something that is done very rarely. But I think Jesus’s lesson that day was His continued invitation to join God in His pursuit of forgiveness.

If we’re going to put the world back together, we are going to have to partner with God to show mercy to those who don’t deserve it. And they don’t buy it. “Who can forgive sins but God alone?” they ask.

And Jesus puts a stamp of authority on His teaching by causing the paralytic to rise and walk. Jesus’s claim that Abel would forgive sins, Jesus’s invitation to join God in His redemptive work, His insistence that this is, in fact, what God asks of us — has the final exclamation point of a paralyzed man rising to his feet, dusting off his mat, and walking out of the house.

BOOM!

And the last line of Matthew’s account?

When the crowds saw it, they were afraid, and they glorified God, who had given such authority to men.

Authority to men. Authority to forgive sins. Authority to set people free.

Which is easier? To say to a man, “Your sins are forgiven,” or to make him walk? Luckily, it’s easier to forgive, because it’s been a while since I last healed a paralytic.