When Jesus saw their faith, He said to the paralytic, ‘Child, your sins are forgiven.’” We may be excused for imagining that the paralytic was a little disappointed. After all, he did not ask the Lord to be forgiven. He wanted to be healed. And we should not fault him for that. Indeed, we should admire his faith.
(Fr. Scalia is parochial vicar of St. Patrick Parish in Chancellorsville, Virginia. This article courtesy of the Arlington Catholic Herald.)
Nevertheless, the contrast between his desire and Our Lord’s response illustrates two different approaches to the Catholic Faith: the worldly and the heavenly.
Like the paralytic who came to Christ for physical rather than spiritual healing, some people value Catholicism only because of its worldly importance. It helps us “to get by.” It “makes the world a better place.” They find the Church’s glory in her worldly accomplishments: feeding the hungry, fighting poverty and injustice, transforming culture, inspiring the arts, building school systems, etc.
Others, however, treasure the Catholic Faith because it opens to them the things of heaven and, indeed, heaven itself. This true Faith looks first to eternity. It does not deny or belittle faith’s good works in this world. But it gives the believer a supernatural outlook, the ability to see and evaluate them in terms of heaven. By such faith, every moment in life – every thought, word or action, no matter how great or how small — is viewed in light of eternity. Everything takes on eternal significance.
Many Catholics resemble the paralytic: they believe in Christ, but come to Him only for worldly reasons. They focus on the temporal and forget the eternal. Our Lord, however, cares more about our souls than about our bodies. He desires our eternal salvation more than our worldly comfort. The Catholic faith is not about improving our lot in this world (although sometimes it has that effect), but about attaining eternal life in the next.
The Church herself constantly faces the same temptation as the paralytic: to seek only worldly success. Various voices entice Christ’s Bride away from thoughts of heaven, to become more relevant, more acceptable, more worldly. The laundry list of changes (an end to celibacy, the acceptance of divorce, contraception, abortion, etc.) always seeks to make the Church more comfortable in this world and less interested in her eternal home.
Of course, if the Church drew her meaning and mission from the world she would have nothing to offer the world. Without reference to eternity, this world has no significance and the Church has no mission. The greatest threat to the Church is not persecution from the world but accommodation to the world, the loss of the supernatural outlook. Persecution reminds us that faith’s goal does not rest in this world and that we should seek the things that are above. Accommodation makes us content with worldly success and earthly progress. It brings on a paralysis — the very paralysis the Church ought to heal.
Our Lord did heal the paralytic physically. But he did so for a spiritual purpose: to reveal the forgiveness of sins. Even as we admire the paralytic’s faith and rejoice in his healing, we should hope that he walked away more grateful for his spiritual healing than for the physical cure, more focused on the things of heaven than on those of earth.