«Some men came carrying a paralyzed man on a sleeping mat.
They tried to take him inside to Jesus, but they couldn’t reach him because of the crowd.
So they went up to the roof and took off some tiles.
Then they lowered the sick man on his mat down into the crowd, right in front of Jesus»
(Luke 5:18, 19).
That rooftop was very special. We don’t know how many people were inside, we don’t know the names of the lame man’s friends, we don’t know how long they had been friends, how they had met, on what days they used to get together or which of them he got along better with. We don ‘t know if they joked around as they carried him to the rooftop, if they helped him prepare so he would be more presentable, if it was cold or hot that day. We don’t know what specific past action was tormenting the man so much that he valued feeling Jesus’s forgiveness more than his physical healing. We’re not told who stayed behind to clean up the rubble on the rooftop, or if someone decided to leave it just as it was as a monument to the great miracle.
We only know that there was faith and that Jesus still performs miracles today. Ever since He broke the roof of our atmosphere with His glory to come as a child, grow and triumph, He brought along the option of salvation to those who believe in Him. There are no rooftops or limits to the manifestations of power in the lives of His children who choose to believe in Him.
What’s happening under your rooftop?
Is there a multitude and noise obstructing the miracle? Is there prejudice that outweighs the simple truth?
Is there a friend trying to take you to Jesus’s feet?
Is there a past tormenting you and making you feel unworthy?
What if you allow the rooftop to break and refrain from worrying about the rubble for a while?
«The effect produced upon the people by the healing of the paralytic was as if heaven had opened, and revealed the glories of the better world. As the man who had been cured passed through the multitude, blessing God at every step, and bearing his burden as if it were a feather’s weight, the people fell back to give him room . . . whispering softly among themselves, ‘We have seen strange things today’” (The Desire of Ages, ch. 27, p. 270).
Allow the Master to come into your house. May your rooftop have a story to tell.