So you got the Sword of Damocles. It's this legendary metaphor for things that hang over your head or things that nip at your heels from the past

whether it's the cute adorable goofy stuff that you did at a time when fads were just

different now I can't believe you still have that picture mom or whether we're talking about stuff that you

really honestly super shanked and screwed up whether you went and got that stuff

fixed and made right with the people you wronged or whether you didn't that stuff can

still feel like it really lingers and because of the linear nature of time and because we are bound by time

us going and atoning for things by unmaking the past just isn't a physical possibility. We can patch up the present, we can set things up to be good for the future, but guilt is very bound up with time, and of course that kind of lobes a giant softball to the whole Bible Jesus thing if there is to be any true reconciliation

any true atonement or resolution for the stuff that nips at our heels. It would have to come from an entity who is always

right, always correct in his judgment, unbound by time and truly in a position to dish out forgiveness.

And that's what we get in Matthew Chapter 9.

This Paralytic comes into the room and Jesus says, take heart, son, your sins are forgiven.

Take heart.

I like that part, that you can truly lean into this and appreciate what is happening as we were talking about last week

But then there are people in the room who are mad about it and they don't want this to go on they even accused Jesus of blasphemy and I want to think about why. So I've worked out some

possibilities. I got five of them here maybe you can think of more but let's just

get after it. Possibility number one. They didn't want Jesus removing the

sword of Damocles from this guy because they just didn't want this man to be

disappointed and they were looking out for him and they didn't know if Jesus could actually

do that and they didn't want this guy to later be like, oh, I found out through some sort of existential revelation that I actually

am still super guilty and I'm not actually forgiven. You know, they were just doing a good job of

being pastoral and nurturing to this poor wounded individual.

Honestly, I'm making it sound really snarky, but maybe that is what a few of these people

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