Let's say you are driving down the highway. The kids are in the back seat, with the seat belts strapped. The bags are packed and you are on your way to the Lake. All of a sudden, you hear thunka, thunka, thunka. You know the sound. You have a _______ __________. Yes, you must have had it happen to you.

You pull the car over on the shoulder, turn on the hazards and get out of the car. After you open the hatch you start shoving bags aside so you can get to your spare tire and jack. All of a sudden, a tow truck pulls up and parks in front of you. The driver looks at your disabled car and without a word goes back to his truck and brings back two jacks. He places them under the frame and jacks up the front end. Then he goes back to his truck and gets an oil filter and an oil pan, slides under the car, unscrews the plug, drains out the oil, replaces the oil filter, replaces the plug, opens the hood, pours in five quarts of oil, and then takes his jacks back out from under the car, loads them back into his truck and takes off. You are speechless. "Uh, thank you, I think." But he can't hear you because he is long gone.

What's the problem?

He didn't fix the tire. You needed your tire to be fixed and he changed your oil. The condition of your oil was irrelevant.

Does this seem to be what happens in the sermon? It's nice what happens. It's nice to be given forgiveness, but it seems to be irrelevant?

If we want relevance, we listen to Oprah or watch Dr. Phil. When we are having trouble getting our kids to obey, they provide experts who tell us exactly what to do. When we are having trouble with our inlaws, they have the answers. When we are scared about the future, they tell us how to cope. Now, that's relevance.

We like it when sermons are more about daily life. When they tell us how we can get along better with our spouse, when they tell us how we can get along with co-workers, when they talk about how bad the world is, so we can pat ourselves on the back, because we're talking about the things we have observed ourselves. Now, that's relevance.

And if a miracle worker were to encounter a paralyzed man, it's pretty obvious, to be relevant, the miracle worker would give the man the ability to walk again. Right?

Then why were the first words out of Jesus' mouth to a paralyzed man, "Your sins are forgiven?"

Uhh, Jesus? I don't mean to be rude by asking this, but you of all people should know this man needs to walk. Why are you telling him he is forgiven? Besides, doesn't he know that already? In fact, doesn't everyone already know God is a god of love and that he forgives everyone? Why should you make a point to forgive him when his greater need is to be healed? Would you change the oil in my car if I had a flat tire?

None of us Christians would dare call Jesus irrelevant. I don't think even those who aren't Christian would say that about Him. Jesus is this great teacher. Almost everyone agrees to that. He knows everyone's needs and meets them. You can't be a good teacher and still be irrelevant.

Then, why in the world, does He tell this man, "Take heart, my son, your sins are forgiven?"

I suppose we are left with two choices. Either Jesus is irrelevant, or the forgiveness was actually relevant.

I bet you know the right choice. But you might still be scratching your head. Why is this the right choice?

What do we want? We do we look for in a sermon? Hmm….We want it to be interesting. We want the time to pass quickly, unaware of the passing of time. We want it to be helpful. Helpful. We want it to be practical, to give us tips or give us what we need so we can get along with other people. That's not so bad, is it? We want to be good witnesses of what God has done for us, and we realize when we are fighting with other people, not getting along with them, or always seeking only our own interests, it doesn't look so good. What can we do about it?

There, that kind of relevance.

Would you agree? I doubt you would disagree, and I would agree those are pretty worthy goals. Is telling you, "You are forgiven," the way to the solution? Apparently God thinks so. In the Divine Service, right at the beginning of the service, God says, "You are forgiven." But maybe we better let God set the direction and see what He has to say. Why is it right at the beginning?

God is not opposed to what we want. No, He is very pleased that we would want them. It's great when we ignore our own wants and needs for the sake of our neighbor; when we think "What does he want," instead of "What do I want?" "What does she need?" instead of "What do I need?" "How can I serve them?" instead of "How can I serve me?" Boy, if we were to think those questions, it would be good.

As good as these goals are-and they are very good, because this is the way we serve our neighbor-we do have a higher priority. Maybe not higher priority, as much as the need to keep the right order. We can ask God for the love we need to be able to think of other people before ourselves, and God is happy to give it, but we need to keep first things first.

Think back to our opening story of when you got the flat tire. There was a definite order. You hear the flat tire, you pull over and stop, you turn on the hazards, you open the door and get out of the car. You pretty much have to do that in that order, or it doesn't work. You can't hear the flat tire, and get out of the car before you have pulled over and stopped the car. It's a little dangerous, isn't it? Actually, it's a lot dangerous. Getting out of a moving car can be bad for your health. The moving pavement is a little faster than those speedwalks at the airport.

In the same way, you are coming into the presence of a holy God. That can be dangerous for sinners still in their sin, maybe not immediately, but eventually. You have to be ready for it. First things, first. We may think we can casually stroll up and act like it's no big deal, but we are missing one of two things if not both-God's destructive holiness and our corruptive unholiness. Either one should cause us to think twice before coming into God's presence. We can't act like He's our buddy. He doesn't want to be our buddy. He wants to be our Father. A buddy is fine to share experiences with, but a Father looks out for you. Yet this is a Father that would be scary if it weren't for the forgiveness He gives in Christ.

It's scary because you know who He is-this is the Almighty God. This is the Holy God. I am unholy. Things don't look so good for me. When we think about this, when we give it a little more than a glancing thought, we no longer come into the church with such a casual attitude. We consider what we are wearing, the volume of our voices, and think about how what we do reflects on what we believe. If He is a holy God and we are unholy, and we are now here in His presence, simply by His gracious invitation, then we are going to take that invitation very seriously.

The paralytic and his friends are thinking that. Jesus sees the faith of the men. They know who He is. He is the Messiah; more than that, He is God. They are terrified. Like Peter, Isaiah and John from a sermon a couple weeks back. Their sin overwhelms them. Their conscience is paralyzed. More than just meeting someone famous or powerful, they are standing in the presence of the Holy God. What is needed? What is most relevant at that point?

I'll tell you. The assurance that you can stand there. That's what they needed and that's what Jesus gives them. "Take heart, my son, your sins are forgiven."

There, that's first. God tells us the first thing we need is forgiveness. When we come into His presence, we need to be forgiven. We may already stand forgiven, but our soul needs to hear Him say it again, otherwise we take it for granted to our eternal peril.

"Take heart, my son, your sins are forgiven." When we are struggling with guilt, when we see how we have failed again to serve our neighbor first, when we see that we hold grudges, and at the same time attempt to make ourselves look good before God holding our righteousnesses out as though they are actually worth something, when we say, "Well at least I didn't do that," as though that makes it righteous in God's eyes, then we need to hear God say, "Because Jesus paid your penalty, you are forgiven. He may have paid your penalty years ago, but I'm telling you, 'you are forgiven' now."

Now, what more do we need? What could we possibly need beyond that? We are right with God; what more could there be? Well, we did say we wanted to get along better with other people. But hasn't that been addressed by that word of forgiveness?

Why do we have trouble getting along with other people? Isn't our sinfulness? Oh yes, it is their sinfulness too, but that's not our concern. How they act toward us usually affects how we act back toward them. When we behave like everyone else, when we act like we don't know we have been forgiven, then things between us get worse.

Adam and Eve didn't know forgiveness at first. Instead, they tried to lay the blame on the other. It's your fault. It's your fault. It's your fault, God. They were digging a great big hole, one that opened up into hell.

Time out! Stop fighting. Now, for my Son's sake, I forgive you. He will crush the head of the serpent, and the serpent will crush His heel, and through this gruesome battle you are forgiven. Adam no longer had to point at Eve's sin to make himself look better. Eve no longer had to point at Adam's sin to make herself look better. They were forgiven.

You are forgiven for Jesus' sake. You no longer have to keep a tally on all the terrible things he has done to you. You no longer have to keep a tally on all the horrible things she has done to you. The sins of those other people don't make you look any better. Although you might think they look so much worse than yours, you don't need to hold them up before God, and say, "At least I don't look like that." No, there is no "at least."

You stand before God, for Christ's sake, completely justified, declared righteous. When you are not counting all those sins against you, and you are actually forgiving them yourself, you will get along better with those people. I'm not saying everything will be hunky dory, but they won't be as bad. Perhaps they may take advantage of you, but you will know you are not contributing to the reason you aren't getting along. You will commend your situation to your Father's hands, and trust He will take care of you in it.

So, what is relevance? For the man who was paralyzed, he eventually got the healing his friends wanted for him. Jesus told the man to get up and walk. But before that, Jesus addressed the more immediate need, his heart was troubled by his sinfulness, and he needed to be set at ease.

For you, I'm sure you want to get along better with other people, family, spouse, co-workers, classmates, fellow members of the congregation. But the power for that comes in the same word that addresses our first need. "Your sins are forgiven."

AMEN