Let us
pray.
Circle
us, Lord
Circle
this world with the joy of your Salvation
Where
there is sickness and disease bring healing
Where
there is hunger and despair bring hope
Where
there is torture and oppression bring release
Lord of
creation, Lord of Salvation
Circle
this world with the light of your presence. Amen.
(Celtic Daily Prayer 2)
(Celtic Daily Prayer 2)
Today's Gospel story of the man at Bethesda Pool offers us some
interesting thoughts about healing. First, there’s that famous question that
Jesus asks, “Do you want to be healed?” Then there’s the response of the lame
man himself, and, oh, let’s not forget what follows when the Pharisees find out
that Jesus healed someone on the Sabbath, and then told him to carry his bed—an
action forbidden by the Law. What I love about Gospel stories like this one is
that such rich possibilities exist for what God wants us to learn. And this
passage is no different.
John’s story begins by telling us what the setting was like. He
was laying the scene when he tells us, there were five porticoes, and the
cripples were here, the lame here, and the blind over there. Archeologists, who
have done work on this site, tell us the Pool of Bethesda was used to supply
water to the Temple. They have also discovered that in Jesus’ time, there was
an intermittent spring there. At times water is released in surges from hidden
reservoirs in the hills around the city, causing these springs to rise and fall
suddenly, thus appearing to be “stirred up” as verse seven tells us.
So now, I’d like to tell you a story about visiting one of those pools
with an intermittent spring. In 1978, I had the privilege of taking my first
overseas trip. Those who know me well, realize that was the point where I got
hooked on traveling in a big way. While in Jerusalem, my Old Testament
professor took us on a tour of Hezekiah’s water tunnel and the Pool of Siloam.
This site also has an intermittent spring, and when one goes through at certain
times of the day, the water may be up to one’s ankles, but at other times it
may be up to a person’s waist. Not satisfied with one trip through the tunnel,
however, another student, John, and I decided to go through the tunnel again
later in the day. The level of water had risen since our morning tour, and we
did a little more than wade as we made our way through knee-deep water to the
other end of the tunnel.
As we entered the tunnel, a young Palestinian offered to lead us
through, and my cautious nature immediately kicked in—especially when he shut
the gate behind us. I tried to make it clear that we were capable of going on
this journey ourselves. About half way through the dark tunnel, I felt the hair
rise on the back of my neck, and I whispered to John to hide his money. I took
mine and stuffed it in my camera bag, behind my camera. John stuffed his in
another place they were not likely to look. Sure enough as we got to the Pool
of Siloam at the end of the tunnel, there was a larger number of young
Palestinian men who wanted all of our money to unlock the gates and let us out
of the tunnel.
So, the lame man in today’s Gospel wanted help getting into the pool
of Bethesda, while we were trying to figure out how to get OUT of a pool.
Fortunately, John and I made a good case for being poor American college
students showing the men our empty wallets and pockets. Finally, they opened
the gate and allowed us to leave the Pool of Siloam and go on our way.
John and I used our wits to get out of a tough situation, but did
you notice how the lame man responded? He claimed he had no one to help him.
When Jesus challenges him by asking if he wants to be healed, the lame man
says, “I have no one to help me into the waters when they are troubled.” Like
so many us, the lame man was not sure about how much he really wanted God’s
power to change him. He could not offer Jesus a direct answer, but rather only
gave excuses. Instead of saying “Yes, I want to be healed,” he
explains why he hasn’t been healed. He accepts no responsibility for his
circumstances.
When my daughter Claire was small, she had a favorite phrase that
I heard over and over. When she was trying to figure something out, instead of
accepting help, she would say rather firmly, “My do it!” Claire had a deep
sense even as a child of what she wanted and she never really had a habit of
making excuses. Like Little Claire, I would rather do it myself than give up
the control I think I have.
But also, like Claire, I have learned that I have to allow God to
direct my journey, especially when God challenges me to make changes for my
healing and growth. When it comes to living the Resurrected Life—one in which
we are healed—we have to do the hard work of facing painful situations,
uncovering bitterness, and admitting to deep, resentful anger. Healing
comes when we are broken within and need God like we’ve never needed God before.
We have to face our fears and ask God to take the shame that causes our lack of
self-acceptance away.
If
we unpack Jesus’ question a bit more, I think we find that Jesus, too, is
digging deeper by asking the lame man if he wants to be healed. All of us are
wounded by life’s vagaries, some of us have struggled with physical pain, some
with emotional pain, some with the pain of spiritual doubts, and some of us
have even suffered at the hands of those who were supposed to love and protect
us. That wounding can cause us to build walls and withdraw into ourselves. We
believe there is no hope for us. And because our wounds impact our sense of
hope, many of us live blind, lame and
paralyzed lives—we have been lame in terms of being stuck in one place for a
long time and paralyzed from doing anything about our pitiful condition.
Perhaps the lame man’s mind was already racing with difficult
questions as he looked ahead to his new life. He might have thought, “How will
I earn a living? Do I really want things to change that much? What will I have
to give up? How will I know who I am?”
Jesus wants to know
from the lame man and from us if we can handle the changes that will become a
regular part of our lives once we enter the healing process. Jesus asks each of
us “Are you ready to leave behind all of the excuses;
are you really ready to change?”
In addition
to Jesus’ primary question, three more questions might help us know if we are
ready to experience healing. The first is "Are
you ready for the sacrifice of being in
community or starting a relationship of deep sharing, or would you rather
wallow in the self-pity of being alone?"
If we are honest about struggle, joy, and where God works, in
short, if we are vulnerable, and enter into community, the person we share with
will say, “Oh, me too.” That’s the point in which the kingdom of God breaks
through on earth.
Secondly, "Are we willing to change our lifestyle habits, or
will it take too much energy to quit our unhealthy routines?" Do we, in
fact, want to hang on to that mat, the one item that makes our present bad
situation comfortable?
And finally, "Do we really want to forgive that person who
has harmed us and move on, or is it easier to distance ourselves from the pain
they once caused us by stuffing our emotions inside?"
If we turn to Jesus to ask for healing in a particular area of our
lives, we must be prepared to do the work it takes to accept the blessing of
healing. That might mean doing intense work on the primary cause of anger or
sadness resulting from a past hurt. That might mean receiving prayers for
healing. It might mean we have to choose to do some forgiving, which often
feels like an impossible act to accomplish.
In his song, “Forgiveness,” Matthew West sings,
“It will clear the bitterness away
It can even set a prisoner free
There is no end to what its power can do
So let it go and be amazed
by what you see through eyes of grace
The prisoner that it really frees is you: forgiveness."
It can even set a prisoner free
There is no end to what its power can do
So let it go and be amazed
by what you see through eyes of grace
The prisoner that it really frees is you: forgiveness."
And once we have begun to experience that freedom, we then have
the opportunity and commission to become compassionate yet wounded healers. No
one explains this idea better than Henri Nouwen in his book Wounded Healer,
“Through compassion it is possible to recognize that the craving for love that people
feel resides also in our own hearts... Through compassion we also sense our
hope for forgiveness in our friends' eyes… For a compassionate person nothing
human is alien: no joy and no sorrow, no way of living and no way of dying.”
What this means for us is that we begin to reach out to others. We
become people who trust and surrender—not people who avoid and resist. We take
Jesus’ work to the streets where we are commissioned to clothe the naked, look
after the sick, and visit those in prison. Previously, we may have been unable
to genuinely serve because of our lack of connection, or the isolation
and rejection of our own selves. So, let us close now with this question that
Jesus asks each one of us: "In some area of your life, do you want
to be healed?" If you say, "Yes," he will say, "Then stand
up, take up your bed, and walk."
