Carried by Four Men

Earlier tonight, I attended the Sunday vigil Mass at St. Patrick's Old Cathedral. The first cathedral of the Archdiocese of New York, it's located at the corner of Mott and Prince streets, not far from my new pad.

Old St. Patrick's is an anchor parish of a newish Catholic young adult group called The Catholic Fellowship of New York, which hosted a very nice reception and concert after Mass. (That's the group's logo above.)

For a third Sunday in a row, the Gospel at Mass brings us Christ the healer. In the homily I heard at Old St. Patrick's, we were called to consider the four men who brought the paralytic to Jesus and the risks that they took. The point: How are we today like those four men? What risks do we take to bring the spiritually paralyzed to Christ?

From Mark Chapter 2:

When Jesus returned to Capernaum after some days, it became known that he was at home.

Many gathered together so that there was no longer room for them, not even around the door, and he preached the word to them.

They came bringing to him a paralytic carried by four men. Unable to get near Jesus because of the crowd, they opened up the roof above him. After they had broken through, they let down the mat on which the paralytic was lying.

When Jesus saw their faith, he said to the paralytic, "Child, your sins are forgiven."

Now some of the scribes were sitting there asking themselves, "Why does this man speak that way? He is blaspheming. Who but God alone can forgive sins?"

Jesus immediately knew in his mind what they were thinking to themselves, so he said, "Why are you thinking such things in your hearts? Which is easier, to say to the paralytic, 'Your sins are forgiven,' or to say, 'Rise, pick up your mat and walk?' But that you may know that the Son of Man has authority to forgive sins on earth"—he said to the paralytic, "I say to you, rise, pick up your mat, and go home."

He rose, picked up his mat at once, and went away in the sight of everyone.

They were all astounded and glorified God, saying, "We have never seen anything like this."

Deacon Greg remembered Amy in his homily for this Sunday.