What Jesus Fixes First

In the mid-1800s, a physician named Ignaz Semmelweis noticed something deeply troubling. Young mothers were dying at alarming rates after childbirth. Doctors tried everything they could think of. Better air. Better diets. Better procedures. Nothing worked.
Until Semmelweis realized the problem was not the mothers.
It was the doctors.

Physicians were moving straight from autopsies to delivery rooms without washing their hands. The danger was not obvious. It was invisible. It was contamination being carried by the very people trying to help. When handwashing was introduced, death rates dropped almost immediately.

Lives were saved.

But here is the hard part. Many doctors resisted his conclusion. Not because it was wrong, but because it was humbling. It meant admitting the problem was not “out there.” It was closer. It was personal.

That story helps us understand what is happening in Mark 2:1–17.

When the paralyzed man is lowered through the roof, everyone knows what the problem is. He cannot walk. That is the crisis. That is what needs fixing. But Jesus surprises everyone. Before He heals the man’s body, He speaks to his soul: “Son, your sins are forgiven.”
Jesus goes beneath the surface.

Just like Semmelweis, He refuses to treat symptoms without addressing the deeper issue. The paralysis is real, but it is not the man’s greatest need. His greatest need is peace with God.

That is uncomfortable for us. We are very good at naming what hurts most. We are not always eager to face what matters most. We pray urgently about health, finances, relationships, and circumstances, while quietly avoiding the deeper problem of sin and separation from God. But Jesus loves us too much to stop at the surface.

This moment also shows us how grace actually works.

The paralyzed man does not earn forgiveness. He does not make a promise or say the right words. He does not even speak. He is passive. Helpless. Jesus forgives him by sheer authority and mercy. Salvation does not begin with our initiative. It begins with Christ’s word.

Then Mark introduces Levi, a tax collector, a man everyone else had written off. Jesus does not avoid him. He calls him. He eats with him. He welcomes him. And when the religious leaders object, Jesus makes His mission clear: “I came not to call the righteous, but sinners.”

That is the heart of this passage.

Semmelweis could identify contamination, but he could not remove it. Jesus does both. He exposes what is killing us, and then He carries it Himself to the cross.

So this week, do not just bring Jesus your loudest pain. Bring Him your deepest need.

Come to Him as you are, trusting that His grace forgives first and then transforms.

Jesus did not come to impress us.

He came to forgive us.