Sermon – Two Wrongs Don’t Make a Right
2 Samuel 18:31-33; Matthew 9:1-12
3/1/26
I learned this week that there are a number of ways to interpret the sermon title for this week. The traditional, straightforward approach that we might have learned in school or at home in our earlier years is that doing something wrong after doing something else wrong cannot fix the harm of the first wrong. This is the swipe-a-cookie-before-dinner-even-though-your’e-not-supposed-to-and-then-lying-when-caught scenario. Following a wrong with another wrong is just wrong. It feels like wrong deeds will not bring the kind of good that we want out of life. On the other hand, there is also the Dennis the Menace interpretation. He may be the exception to the rule. When he was told that two wrongs do not make a right, his true-to-form response was “well, then, how many wrongs do make a right?” Of course, his life’s work would have been to figure that out if he were more than a comic strip. For the rest of us, however, don’t be a menace.
Another way to look at the sermon title, though, is through the lens of Scripture. For a book that is so concerned about helping people to do what is right, there is a tremendous amount of wrong done in the story of its pages. To be honest, pretty much everything that people do throughout the Bible has at least some element of wrong. Even the heroes of faith struggle to live up to those standards, and one of our biggest heroes is the focus of our first reading. David, son of Jesse, and here king is one of those heroes that we learn about from the very beginning of our Christian education. He is heralded for his singular devotion to God and his ability to face down those who stand against God’s purposes. When he was young, he was so zealous for God’s righteousness. As he got older, that fire changed. To be honest, his being king seemed to be a personal problem for him. Maybe that is just what power does, but we have other kings who are not known as David is. Our older King David sat by after one of his sons raped one of his daughters and another of his sons – the full brother of the abused daughter – killed his offending, remorseless half-brother. David refused to step in with discipline, comfort, or any meaningful or lasting guidance. He wasn’t a good father or king, and this beautiful daughter, Tamar, is lost to us in shame and guilt as she disappears from the story. A terrible, terrible wrong was done, one of the most heart wrenching stories in Scriptures because of the abject failure of King David to be a good king or father here. This terrible wrong drove that same avenging son, Absalom, to rise up against his father David. Many others saw David as a failed king and joined Absalom in his quest to unseat his father and usurp the throne. They literally went to war against each other with their own armies. They had been family. These were supposed to be godly people. I wish there was a happy ending here, but you heard the end. Absalom was caught and killed. He was the enemy of the king whose death came by messenger. David had clearly and carefully ordered that his son not be harmed, but certain people did not care. This tragedy ends here with David finally expressing remorse for his complete failure. David finally seems to care about what has happened and allows himself to love his son, even if it is too little too late.
This was a whole list of wrongs, and David continued to fail. This man after God’s own heart diminished in his remaining years. A few chapters later, David decides to conduct a census in direct violation to God’s wishes, and 70,000 people die – not exactly how you want to end your life. David still has his heart and his love for God, but it seems reasonable that he goes to his grave with a good bit of guilt and shame, but here is the thing: the Bible is not a book of saints. The characters portrayed in Scripture are a collection of broken people that God calls for holy purposes. This is a really important point. The people of God were terribly human, and the Bible does not try to hide this. And we often only see the big picture examples of their failure, their guilt, and their brokenness. We have liars, murders, thieves, adulterers, idolators, and people who simply did not honor God. They are all people who have failed or done wrong. They are just like us. And these are the people God brought into God’s family. Every once in a while, they do something pretty amazing, but it feels like we live with our wrongs more than the things we do right. Guilt is a weight that is not easily removed.
In fact, a word was even created to describe people who struggle with our wrongs: sinners. It became a “strange” label for people who carried guilt. I say “strange” because you would think it applied to us all, but in Jesus’ day, it did not. There were some who did not see themselves as sinners. They tried to ignore or absolve their guilt. It helps you to feel better about your own flaws when your neighbors’ flaws are more glaring.
We have terrible ways of dealing with the sorrow of our guilt. If we do not address this, we can literally become broken. Our bodies, our minds, and our spirits can be broken when we refuse to find help with the pain and guilt we carry. How many people do you think are driving by during this one hour who have turned to destructive habits to cope? How many of them are drowning in a sea of shame? How many right here don’t know what to do with the ways we have hurt and been hurt? We know brokenness because we are also broken.
I think that is why you have people coming to Jesus for help whose literal bodies are sick. Healing is great just for the face value healing. Someone who never walked or lost the ability to walk might be restored. Someone who had relied on begging on the side of the street might have more of a life after meeting Jesus and being healed. This particular invalid in Matthew’s story was particularly blessed to have friends, but he was still far from well. That is the point. His body was broken, but notice how Jesus responded. By forgiving his sins, he freed the man from the weight that being broken creates. Jesus went right to the core of that man’s needs. Having all working limbs does not make you any more or less human. Having full ability does not make you any more or less loving, any more or less able to worship God. Being able to walk or talk does not give you the kind of heart that God delights in. We have generations and generations of people who followed God’s heart through however they were able. Some might scoff at how our society seeks to value people who are less able, but this is exactly right. The value of someone is not tied to their ability. We are all made in God’s image. That image gets distorted when we are twisted by guilt and shame. So Jesus said, “Your sins are forgiven.”
I cannot walk on water or turn water into wine. I cannot know what people are actually thinking or cast out demons. I cannot feed any thousands of people with a few loaves or fishes. I cannot raise the dead or calm the stormy seas. I cannot do any of the miracles of Jesus except for one: I can forgive.
The story in Matthew seems so counter intuitive. Jesus acts like it is easier to heal someone’s broken body than to give forgiveness. It seems so obvious to us that it is the other way around. But that is because we have been given the power of God. Forgiveness is our superpower. There is an answer to guilt and shame and brokenness and the litany of wrongs that we have committed over the course of our lives. It is forgiveness. In this one respect, we are most like God. Forgiveness is one of the most important ways that reflect God’s love.
That man whom Jesus healed was able to walk away from that encounter with Jesus, but we do not know if the following week he had a bad accident and injured his back. Maybe he developed a neurological disorder or suffered a disease that robbed him of his ability to walk. Maybe he continued the rest of his days in excellent health or maybe it lasted a very short time. We will never know this side of glory. What we do know is that he understood his value to God. He felt his value to God. Even though he had to rely on others just to get around, even though he had no way of leading a productive life, even though we was seen as defective and a sinner, he was precious and worth life.
The most needed people are the wrong ones. It is not about slapping labels on anyone, and I have no need to point fingers and call some “sinners.” We are all sinners, but the ones we most need are the ones who are open to forgiveness. The ones who receive will also give. God’s love will grow. The ones who feel that healing deep down will heal others. The ones who understand grace will be more amazing. We need the wrong people, the ones desperately seeking God’s freedom. While two wrongs might not make a right, Jesus and our willingness to walk in him together, will give us a head start. To God be the glory. Amen.