The Water Watcher
John begins the fifth chapter of his gospel with an account of Jesus’ time at a pool. Of course, Jesus was not recreational swimming. I am sure He would have enjoyed a good splash in the pool, but this day He was there to see somebody.
Now, this pool was called Bethesda in Aramaic, the common language used throughout Jerusalem in those days. The meaning of the name was House of Mercy. It appears that the pool got its name from the odd occurrence that happened there on occasion. Every so often the waters of the pool would “stir”. According to legend, when this occurred, the first person to enter the water would be healed from his or her afflictions. Evidently, the stirring legend made the pool quite the attraction for persons referred to as “invalids”. In fact, it was so popular that 5 roofed colonnades were built to provide covering for the large “multitude” of invalids that lay there each day waiting for the water to do its thing.
John’s account actually focuses on one of these water watchers, a man who had suffered as an invalid for 38 years! From the account, it appears that this man’s condition, not his ailment but rather the length of time he had been at the pool, caught Jesus’ attention. According to John’s testimony, Jesus “saw him lying there and knew that he had already been there a long time”. So, Jesus walked up to the man and said, “Do you want to be healed?” Well, that seems to be a pretty unnecessary question. Hey, invalid, crippled for over 38 years, laying here next to this pool, do you want to be healed?
The man’s reply, “Sir, I have no one to put me into the pool ...”, possibly reveals irritation at such a question. Of course he wanted to be healed. Why would he be sitting there watching the waters? Why would he spend his time in this crowd of invalids just waiting? But that’s it right there! That is the reason why Jesus asked the question.
Jesus saw the man and understood that for years and years he had seen his only opportunity to get healed in the waters of a pool. That man had laid there on his mat just waiting for some water to stir. He sat in the company of other invalids, who like him, had come to believe that the only way to get their healing was in those waters. It was a comfortable place. Most of them never got their healing but they found their comfort. Why go back to a place with so much disappointment, unless you find something of value there. The value was found in the company of others who had succumb to their condition and the belief that there was no other way. No need to try anything else. The waters were it. This man had seen the water stir, apparently many times. But every time he tried to get to the water, “another [person] steps down before” him. He could not make it to the water first. Can you imagine the level of frustration in that process? But there he was, still waiting on the stirring waters.
You know, from that vantage point, Jesus’ question does not seem so preposterous. “Do you want to be healed” is not such a bad question to an invalid that does the same thing over and over again for years, never receiving the desired result. The man’s reply unravels his pitiful condition. “Sir, I have no one to put me into the pool when the water is stirred up, and while I am going another steps down before me.” Sounds like a good refrain in a Blues song. Ain’t got nobody and nobody gots me… The man surely would have accepted healing if it had been made available. But the consolation prize appears to have come in the form of pity. Well, Jesus evidently decided that enough was enough. Even though the man did not give a direct answer to His question, Jesus answered him with “Get up, take up your bed, and walk.” That’s exactly what the man did - and quick. Healing came to him whether he liked it or not.
For sure, the condition of the water watching invalid is not exclusive to Jerusalem in Biblical times. In fact, I can certainly point to times when Jesus could have asked me, “Do you really want it?” Just like the occasion at the Pool of Bethesda, the question seems so preposterous until you look closer. I am sitting in the House of Mercy, the grace of God available at every turn, but I am satisfying myself with pity? Nowadays we call it a crutch. We may want to throw it away, but not enough to actually do it. My crutch gives me comfort. It makes associating with people comfortable, particularly those carrying the same crutch. It provides a special label. No one really likes being an invalid, except the invalid that likes being an invalid. It’s in the condition that comfort is found. But that conditional comfort is an affront to God. Hanging on to the crutch is a sin. True, whether we like it or not.
Read a little further in John’s letter and you find Jesus meeting up with this same man who was once an invalid. According to the account, Jesus “found him in the temple” (vs 14). Jesus, once again being very direct with the man said, “See, you are well! Sin no more, that nothing worse may happen to you.” This is an interesting and intense statement. Jesus points out the changed condition of the man and then points out the possibility that worse could happen to him. What would bring a worse thing? Sin. The man’s sin was not found in being an invalid, and he certainly did not sin by being healed. Maybe his sin was found in choosing a condition rather than the mercy of God, and maybe it was that sin about which Jesus intended to forewarn the man. If he once again sought the condition rather than the God who had healed him, worse was to come his way.
Let go of the crutch. Walk away from the waters. Seek God in Whom you will find your healing.
John 5:2-9
Shout out to Dustin Stradley, campus pastor of Elevation Church, Roanoke, VA for referencing this scripture in his recent sermon. While this entry does not go in the same direction as Dustin’s sermon, you may want to check out the Sermon Here to get a good word.