The Power to Forgive: Finding True Healing

There's something profound about desperation mixed with faith. It's the kind of combination that moves mountains—or in this case, removes roofs.
Picture a crowded house in ancient Capernaum. Every corner is packed with religious scholars, teachers, and curious onlookers. The air is thick with anticipation as Jesus teaches about the kingdom of God. Then suddenly, dust and debris begin falling from the ceiling. Tiles are being removed. And moments later, a paralyzed man on a stretcher descends through the opening, lowered by ropes held by four determined friends.
This scene from Luke 5:17-26 captures one of the most remarkable encounters in Scripture—not just because of the physical healing that takes place, but because of what it reveals about our deepest need and the only One who can meet it.
Faith That Refuses to Quit
Before we examine the miracles in this passage, we need to appreciate the extraordinary faith of these four friends. They didn't just have good intentions. They didn't simply pray from a distance and hope for the best. Their faith produced action—sweaty, awkward, property-damaging action.
These men faced a significant obstacle: a house so crowded there was no way to get their friend to Jesus through conventional means. They could have easily turned around, discouraged by the circumstances. They could have made excuses: "It's too crowded." "We tried." "Maybe next time."
But they didn't.
Instead, they climbed the external stairs to the roof, removed tiles, and lowered their friend down in front of everyone. Can you imagine the scene? The crowd looking up in bewilderment, perhaps some muttering about the audacity of destroying someone's roof. The religious leaders likely scowling at the disruption of their important gathering.
These friends didn't care about appearances. They didn't care about social awkwardness or potential embarrassment. They had one mission: get their friend to Jesus. Because they believed—truly believed—that Jesus could and would help him.
This raises challenging questions for us today. What obstacles are we allowing to keep us from Christ? What difficulties discourage us from bringing others to Him? Are we willing to do whatever it takes to get ourselves and others before Jesus, or do we give up when things get inconvenient?
The faith of these four men wasn't passive wishful thinking. It was active, determined, and fruit-bearing. As James reminds us, faith without works is dead. Genuine faith always produces action because it's rooted in the certainty of who God is and what He has promised.
The Greatest Need
When the paralyzed man finally lay before Jesus, something unexpected happened. Instead of immediately addressing the obvious physical need, Jesus said, "Man, your sins are forgiven you."
This wasn't a random choice. Jesus was addressing the man's greatest need—and humanity's greatest need: forgiveness of sin.
Yes, paralysis is devastating. Physical suffering is real and painful. But even more problematic, more infectious, and more deadly than any physical ailment is the disease of unforgiven sin. What good would it be to walk again if you're still doomed to eternal separation from God?
This is where we often get it backwards in our modern world. We treat physical healing, financial prosperity, and comfortable circumstances as our primary needs. We pray first for relief from our immediate discomforts. But Jesus sees deeper. He knows that our spiritual condition matters infinitely more than our physical one.
The paralyzed man needed to walk, certainly. But he needed forgiveness even more.
And here's the beautiful truth: Jesus has both the power and the willingness to forgive. If either of these were untrue—if Jesus lacked the authority or the desire to forgive—we would all still be condemned. But both are gloriously true. Jesus came, lived the perfect life we couldn't live, took our sin upon Himself on the cross, and gave us His righteousness in exchange.
The Authority to Forgive
The religious scholars in the room immediately recognized what Jesus was claiming. "Who is this who speaks blasphemies?" they thought. "Who can forgive sins but God alone?"
They were absolutely right in their theology. Only God can forgive sins. But they completely missed who was standing in front of them.
Jesus, perceiving their thoughts (miracle number two in this passage), asked them a penetrating question: "Which is easier to say, 'Your sins are forgiven you,' or to say, 'Rise and walk'?"
It's easier to claim someone's sins are forgiven because it's invisible—impossible to verify immediately. But to command a paralyzed man to walk? That's instantly verifiable. Either he walks or he doesn't.
So Jesus did both. He proved His authority to forgive sins (the invisible reality) by healing the man physically (the visible proof). "Rise, pick up your bed, and go home," Jesus commanded.
And immediately, the man did exactly that.
This is the power we're dealing with. The same authority that spoke the universe into existence with "Let there be light" now speaks forgiveness and healing into broken lives. When Jesus declares something, it is so. Instantaneously. Completely. Permanently.
The Warning for the Religious
There's a sobering warning embedded in this passage. The Pharisees and teachers of the law knew Scripture backwards and forwards. They could quote it extensively. They even had correct theology—they knew only God could forgive sins.
But they didn't know God.
He stood right in front of them, and they missed Him entirely.
It's possible to attend church for decades, know the Bible well, have correct doctrine, and still not actually know Christ personally. Knowledge about God is not the same as knowing God. Right answers on a theology exam don't equal saving faith.
This calls each of us to examine ourselves honestly. Do we merely know about Jesus, or do we know Him? Is our faith intellectual agreement with facts about God, or is it a living, transforming relationship with Him?
The Response of Gratitude
When the man was healed, he didn't just walk away. He picked up his mat and went home "glorifying God." His obedience was immediate and complete. His gratitude was evident.
This is the natural response to encountering Christ's forgiveness. When we truly grasp what He's done for us—that we've been given new life, that our sins are forgiven, that we've been born again—gratitude and obedience flow naturally.
The crowd's response was equally appropriate: "Amazement seized them all, and they glorified God and were filled with awe, saying, 'We have seen extraordinary things today.'"
Every time someone comes to saving faith in Christ, we are witnessing extraordinary things. Every conversion is a miracle—a dead soul made alive, a blind heart given sight, a rebel reconciled to the King. This should fill us with awe and move us to glorify God.
The Only Hope
In a world full of self-help solutions, therapeutic techniques, and endless options for addressing our problems, this passage makes an exclusive claim: Jesus alone has the authority to forgive sins. There is no other name under heaven by which we can be saved.
Not our own efforts. Not our religious activity. Not our good intentions or moral improvement. Only Jesus.
This is both humbling and liberating. Humbling because it means we can't save ourselves. Liberating because it means we don't have to. The work is finished. Christ has done it all.
The question is: Will we come to Him in faith? Will we, like the paralyzed man and his friends, do whatever it takes to get to Jesus? Will we bring others to Him with the same determined faith?
Because He is still in the business of forgiving sins. He still has the power and authority. And He is still willing.
That's the extraordinary thing we can witness today.