All the hype about coronavirus and health issues make me think of Jesus’ actions at the pool called Bethesda in Jerusalem. According to John 5, that pool was surrounded by “a great number of disabled people” who waited for the water to stir, then tried to be the first one in the pool to be healed. I’m trying to picture the scene. A large number of sick and broken people arrive, healed people walk away. Enter Jesus. He notices one person out of all the rest. A man that had been there for thirty-eight years. That’s a long time to sit by a pool. No doubt, Jesus had seen him there before. Jesus asked the man one question, “Do you want to get well?” After that many years it’s a valid query. Are you satisfied with our infirm life? Do you like sitting here, gabbing with your friends and hanging out, living the life you’ve chosen and known for nearly four decades, or are you serious about getting well? The man’s answer is a puzzle. You’d think he’d shout, “Yes, yes I do!” but instead he sort of whines, telling the Creator of the Universe that he doesn’t have anyone to help him. I can imagine Jesus’ reaction. A roll of the eyes, a shake of His head, a mirthless chuckle.
What happens next is also a puzzle. Jesus tells the man to get up, pick up his mat, and walk. He does it. He’s not walked in at least 38 years, but he gets up, has enough strength to pick up his bed roll, and walks. (There’s no mention of joy or dancing or saying thanks.) And what is the reaction at the pool? Other Jews are ticked because the man was breaking the Sabbath by carrying his mat. Seriously? John says that Jesus slipped away into the crowd but later found the man again at the temple and told him, “See, you are well again. Stop sinning or something worse may happen to you.” Again, there’s no dancing or thanking or celebrating. Instead the man runs (maybe just walks, he’s already had an eventful day) to the Jews to identify Jesus. I’d like to talk to the man who was healed. Ask him if he was glad, if he used his newly given health wisely. I wonder.
How often has God offered healing to me, to us? How often have I been perfectly happy wallowing in my misery and not really very motivated by the prospect of healing? How often have I squandered a second (or third or twentieth) chance to make good choices?
