At one of the lowest points in my life, I'd been hurting for so long that I didn't know if the pain would ever go away. I'd sit in my office and look blankly at my computer monitor, with no idea what to do. Good friends would tell me their own stories of recovering from devastation, but I was too depressed to be encouraged. All I could do was politely remark, "I'm so glad that God did that for you" while thinking, "But God hasn't done that for me."
John 5:1-10
After this, a Jewish festival took place, and Jesus went up to Jerusalem. By the Sheep Gate in Jerusalem there is a pool, called Bethesda in Aramaic, which has five colonnades. Within these lay a large number of the disabled—blind, lame, and paralyzed. One man was there who had been disabled for thirty-eight years. When Jesus saw him lying there and realized he had already been there a long time, he said to him, "Do you want to get well?" "Sir," the disabled man answered, "I have no one to put me into the pool when the water is stirred up, but while I'm coming, someone goes down ahead of me." "Get up," Jesus told him, "pick up your mat and walk." Instantly the man got well, picked up his mat, and started to walk. Now that day was the Sabbath, and so the Jews said to the man who had been healed, "This is the Sabbath. The law prohibits you from carrying your mat."
If John wrote his Gospel after Jerusalem was razed by the Romans in 70 A.D., it's all the more remarkable that he knew precise details about the "pool of the double springs," marked out by a unique structure of five colonnades, and fed by an inconsistent spring that would stir the waters. It's also the third time he's brought up water: the water of the purification jars at the wedding, the water of the well in Samaria, and now the supposed healing waters of Bethesda. Yet just as the purification jars hadn't purified anyone, and the well hadn't satisfied the Samaritan woman, these waters haven't healed this man in thirty-eight years. This man has resigned himself to perpetual disappointment. But it's not like anyone would disagree with him. The religious authorities thought his disability meant he was cursed by God. Further, they looked down on him as impious because he was hoping for a pagan healing. If we can trust the man's candor, no one has offered him a better life. Nevertheless, Jesus takes the initiative to heal him. It's instant. There's no time for the man to object. Then, the religious leaders show up. They don't ask, "Why hasn't anyone cared for this man in thirty-eight years? Don't you know that Leviticus 19:18 obligates us to love our neighbors?" Nor do they celebrate that Jesus has restored their fellow Jew to full health. Instead, they get angry that their made-up religious rule has been broken. Jesus healed a man nobody asked him to heal. In my extended depression, the circumstances didn't change. But as I kept sitting in the darkness, I slowly realized that Jesus was with me, whether or not I could recognize his presence.
What do you notice about how this man responded to Jesus' question?
Where in your life are you waiting for your circumstances to rescue you?
If Jesus asked you, "Do you want to get well?" what would you say?
Find a quiet spot to sit. Clench your fists tight. Hold them until it's uncomfortable. Then open your hands and tell God, "I am willing to receive your love in whatever way you want to meet my needs." When you're done praying, reach out to a friend to share your experience with them.
Get 5 practical emails to help you follow Jesus with a friend.
121 friends have opened a study shared with them.
I was standing in the foyer of a massive megachurch, watching everyone else do what I couldn't figure out how...
I was on a global Skype call with RZIM's senior leaders and Ravi Zacharias himself—the famous apologist whose...
I once got incredibly angry at one of my roommates because he wrote a blog with what I considered bad theology...