Four Friends and a Hole in the Roof

Israel was at war with Amalek, and Moses stood on the hill above the battle with the staff of God in his hands. When Moses held up his hands, Israel prevailed. When he let them down, Amalek prevailed.

Moses's arms grew heavy. He couldn't hold them up alone. Aaron and Hur sat him down on a stone and held up his hands — one on each side — until sunset. Israel won the battle.

Aaron and Hur did not fight. They held. Their role was to keep the intercessor's arms in the air when he could not do it himself. The victory belonged to Joshua on the field, but it was made possible by two people on the hill who simply refused to let Moses's arms fall.

The faith of those who hold you up in your weakest moment is real faith. It counts. It changes outcomes. The man on the mat and Moses on the hill both know: sometimes you win because someone else would not let your arms — or your mat — fall.

The prodigal son had rehearsed his speech on the long road home: "I am no longer worthy to be called your son; make me like one of your hired servants." He had already demoted himself in his own mind. He arrived expecting terms, not a title.

His father ran to him before the speech. He fell on his neck. He kissed him. And before the son could finish his carefully prepared statement, the father interrupted with a declaration of identity: "My son was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found."

The father never addressed the son's failures. He addressed his status. You are still my son. That was the first word. Everything else — the robe, the ring, the sandals, the feast — flowed from that one restored identity.

When Jesus called the paralyzed man "son," he was using the same grammar. This is who you are, before we deal with what you cannot do.

A Pharisee named Simon invited Jesus to dinner. A woman in the city — known as a sinner — came in uninvited. She stood behind Jesus weeping, and her tears fell on his feet. She wiped them with her hair, kissed his feet, and anointed them with an alabaster jar of perfume.

Simon was offended. He thought: if this man were a prophet, he would know who this woman is. Jesus told a parable about two debtors — one who owed five hundred denarii and one who owed fifty. Both debts were cancelled. Which one loved more?

Simon answered correctly. Jesus applied the answer: "Her many sins have been forgiven — as her great love has shown." Then he turned to the woman: "Your sins are forgiven. Your faith has saved you; go in peace."

The forgiveness came first. The love was the overflow. The greater the debt cancelled, the deeper the love that follows. She had experienced what the paralyzed man received: the release.