Choosing Healing

John 5:1-15

July 23, 2006

Dr. Larry D. Thorson

This sermon was adapted from a sermon written and delivered by Dr. M. Craig Barnes at the Shadyside Presbyterian Church in Pittsburgh on June 19, 2005. Used with permission.

^{Jn 5:1} Some time later, Jesus went up to Jerusalem for a feast of the Jews.

^{Jn 5:2} Now there is in Jerusalem near the Sheep Gate a pool, which in Aramaic is called Bethesda and which is surrounded by five covered colonnades.

^{Jn 5:3} Here a great number of disabled people used to lie—the blind, the lame, the paralyzed.

^{Jn 5:5} One who was there had been an invalid for thirty-eight years.

^{Jn 5:6} When Jesus saw him lying there and learned that he had been in this condition for a long time, he asked him, “Do you want to get well?”

^{Jn 5:7} “Sir,” the invalid replied, “I have no one to help me into the pool when the water is stirred. While I am trying to get in, someone else goes down ahead of me.”

^{Jn 5:8} Then Jesus said to him, “Get up! Pick up your mat and walk.”

^{Jn 5:9} At once the man was cured; he picked up his mat and walked. The day on which this took place was a Sabbath,

^{Jn 5:10} and so the Jews said to the man who had been healed, “It is the Sabbath; the law forbids you to carry your mat.”

^{Jn 5:11} But he replied, “The man who made me well said to me, ‘Pick up your mat and walk.’ ”

^{Jn 5:12} So they asked him, “Who is this fellow who told you to pick it up and walk?”

^{Jn 5:13} The man who was healed had no idea who it was, for Jesus had slipped away into the crowd that was there.

^{Jn 5:14} Later Jesus found him at the temple and said to him, “See, you are well again. Stop sinning or something worse may happen to you.”

^{Jn 5:15} The man went away and told the Jews that it was Jesus who had made him well. New International Version

Everybody has something that needs fixing. I want you to list three things that you know are broken. It might be a broken sprinkler head in your lawn. It might be the dome light in your car. It might be a door lock on your house. I wonder how long it takes for you to get used to something being broken. We all live with something that is broken. The number one question for today according to Jesus, is, “Do you want to be healed?” Another way to put that is do you want what’s broken fixed or have you gotten used to it being broken?

Ancient historians tell us of an incredible legend about one of the pools in Jerusalem, called Bethzatha. According to this legend an angel would occasionally descend from heaven into the pool, stirring up the waters. Whoever stepped in the pool first, after the waters were blessed, would be healed of whatever disease he or she had. It was a well known myth. The legend even made it into some copies of the Gospel According to John.

One day as Jesus was passing by the pool, he noticed an invalid who had waited there for 38 years trying to be first into the water after it was stirred up. But because there was no one to help him, he was never first. That didn’t keep him from trying, for thirty-eight years. Imagine sticking to the same plan of action for thirty-eight years and it never worked.

You’ve got a plan for healing whatever is broken in your life also, don’t you? You’re going to get a new doctor, new job, new relationship, new child, new house. It doesn’t matter that none of those things have ever fixed up your life. It is still a well known myth that somehow you will stumble into something that will.

You may not still be on Plan A. (You’re not giving this thing 38 years.) You may be up to Plan X, Y, or Z by now. But you’ve still got something going that you are sure will make everything okay again, and take away the pain. Or maybe you have given up on plans for yourself and now have a plan or two for your children. God help them.

The great danger to your plans for getting life fixed up is that they can blind you to the presence of God - the only one who can heal you. So when Jesus, the Savior, passes by, you will not even see him because you are too focused on your plan.

“When Jesus saw the man lying there and knew he had been there a long time, he asked him, ‘Do you want to be made well?’” Why would Jesus ask this question? It seems obvious that this man wants to be healed. He’s been trying for 38 years! But Lord knows, literally, if you have spent most of your life committed to a plan for healing that is not working, it may be because you have made friends with your hurt and are not really ready to give it up.

It is fascinating that we are not even given the name of this man by the pool. Perhaps that is because the hurt has overtaken his identity. After a while, you can find so much identity in your suffering, that to be made well would confuse you and maybe even frighten you. What would it mean to live without this hurt that has been your companion for so long? People often prefer the misery they know to the mystery they do not. It isn’t logical. You would think that mystery is preferable to misery, but often the mystery we do not know frightens us more than the misery we know so well.

In his wonderful book, The Great Divorce, C. S. Lewis described this misery as a lizard that we wear on our shoulders. It’s a despicable animal that hurts us all the time, digging its claws deep into our skin. And it whispers the most awful things into our ears: “You deserve this hurt.” “You are not beautiful, smart, or gifted.” “You were a disappointment to your parents and your children. How did you let everyone down?” “You will never change.” We hear the lizard’s lies so often that eventually we believe them. In time, they are the only thing we believe. So rather than asking God to kill the lizard, we protect it as a pet - a cherished misery that hurts us so well.

So the question of Jesus to the man at the pools echos down through the centuries to us as well. “Do you want to be healed?” You with broken hearts, broken spirits, and broken down dreams - do you really want to be healed? The sick man does not answer Jesus’ question. Instead, he says, “Sir, I have no one to put me into the pool when the water is stirred up; and while I am making my way, someone else steps down in front of me....” And you just know that if Jesus had not interrupted this man, the man would have recommended Jesus form a committee to research this problem and develop a more equitable system. Maybe they should get a machine that dispenses numbers, so the angel would say, “Now serving number 38.” Then Jesus would become a helpful part of the man’s plan. But Jesus isn’t really interested in this man’s plan, which is only getting him used to being sick. Notice that according to the narrative Jesus does not help this guy into the pool. He does not get him a better doctor, a new job that pays better, or set him up with new friends. Instead, “Jesus said to him, ‘Stand up, take your mat, and walk.’ At once the man was made well, and he took up his mat and walked.”

What does this mean for us? Does it mean that if you are physically ill, Jesus will always heal your body of any disease? No, of course not. It doesn’t mean that any more than it means Jesus will get you a better job, a new relationship, or even a new dog. What it means is that the Savior will heal the soul that has been crippled by growing accustomed to hurt.

Everybody Jesus healed in the gospels eventually grew sick again and died. Everybody Jesus fed, woke up hungry the next morning. If the miracles were the point of Jesus’ ministry, then he was nothing more than a magician who only changed the appearances of things for a while. But the miracles were not the point. The point is that a Savior is near. This is a Savior who can heal the sin-sick soul, restore your life into the mysterious creative hands of God, and can pick you up from the misery to which you’ve grown accustomed. It is a Savior who can get you up on your feet walking in new life. That’s the healing we most need.

I have buried a lot of parishioners who died of their diseases, but who were clearly healed of their deepest hurts. That is because they never let the brokenness define them. Unemployment does not tell you who you are, any more than having a job defines you. Being single does not define you, any more than being married does. The loneliness does not define you, any more than your friends do.

Your life has already been defined in Christ. In Christ, you are the cherished beloved child of God who lives with an open future. And if you believe that, no disease, no loss, no tragedy, not even the gates of hell can prevail against you. You are always free to get up from your losses, take up the mat that had become too comfortable, and get walking again through the grace of life. You may still be sick, or lonely, or in grief, but you will not let that cripple you from inheriting life. Because you are not alone. A Savior is with you, which means anything can happen. Only those who believe that are fully alive.

It is striking that our text ends in verse fourteen, with Jesus telling the man, “Do not sin anymore, so that nothing worse happens to you.” Why does Jesus say this? A few chapters later, Jesus makes it clear to his disciples that sickness is not caused by sin. So Jesus didn’t tell him to stop sinning because that was what caused his illness. No, I believe the man’s sin was that he had settled for being sick. He had settled for a soul crippled by hurt, and he had settled for plans that could not work because he didn’t really want them to work anymore. It all blinded him to the mysterious possibilities of what a Savior could still do in his life.

The healer is with you, with us, and he is still with this world that is running out of plans that do not work. Do you believe that? Do you believe that through this sacred text, Jesus is now calling out to you as well. “You have been hurt long enough,” he says. “Get up, take your mat, and walk again.” Walk away from the hurt. Stop cuddling it, exploring it, trying to get to the bottom of it. You’ve done all of that too long, certainly long enough to know there is no bottom. Healing comes only by getting up, leaving the hurt behind, and walking back to life. Amen.

Benediction: Ask not for Jesus to help you with your plans. Ask for the courage to accept the mystery of Jesus’ plans.