The story of Jesus healing the crippled man at the Pool of Bethesda has always meant a lot to me, and more so now since I sustained a slowly-healing leg injury.
Bethesda in Aramaic means ‘House of Mercy’ or ‘House of Grace.’ At the large pool, believed to have healing properties, crowds with many types of infirmities waited for the Lord’s grace, for the waters to ‘stir’ (bubble up).
Why This Story?
Much has been written about this story, and it has many lessons. I have found some embarrassingly relevant. First, the length of the man’s illness: it was 38 years. How often have I gotten impatient, or downright angry at my limping leg? How often do we get impatient or downright angry when we have a week-old cold?
Secondly, the man was totally incapacitated. How he ate or conducted other necessities of life we’re not told. How often have I railed at my inability to bend to tie my shoe? How often do we get impatient, or downright angry, when we have trouble getting out of bed or reaching for a cup?
Thirdly, the man offered excuses for why he hadn’t been healed. He was waiting for the right time when the waters stirred, for kind strangers to lower him into the pool at the right time. Someone, he said, always got to the pool before him. How often, reliving my fall, have I blamed my preoccupation with planning lunch? How often, when our healing is not immediate or imminent, have we blamed excessive heat or cold, dampness, pollen, doctor, medicine, supplements, others getting the last medical appointment of the day?
Lastly, it was the Sabbath. In Jewish law, ‘work’ was prohibited, including transporting objects. How often did I not warm up before falling? How often have we turned away from doing something we needed to for ourselves or another because the workday was officially over, or the weekend had begun?
Confrontation
Knowing the man had lain there so long, Jesus went right up to him and asked, “Do you want to be healed?”
The man did not answer right away. As you may know, illness has many benefits. We gain sympathy. We’re taken care of. We’re given food. We don’t have to go to work. And we often remain the center of attention and concern. In the man’s case, he could make a relatively easy living by begging.
Jesus’ question tested his intentions. The man answered affirmatively but with excuses. Jesus didn’t buy them. Instead, he looked beyond the physical and commanded the man: “Rise up! Take up your mat and walk.”
Our Mats
Jesus’ command is also significant. A contemporary preacher illustrated graphically during a recent sermon. He picked up a long-rolled rug, a mat, and asked, “What mat are you carrying? The mat of worries, of fears, of bad habits, of addictions?” When Jesus told the man to get up, it was as if He was saying, “Your mat is no longer your crutch. You don’t need it.”
In Summary, Jesus’ Vision
Jesus refused to be bothered by the malady, its severity or history. He didn’t ask for diagnoses, examine the man, or order x-rays. He didn’t wonder how he’d ever heal the man after all these years.
Nor did Jesus pay attention to the ‘need’ for the waters stirring. He didn’t enlist anyone else’s help. He refused to give any weight to the man’s excuses, or even reprimand him for them (as we may do when a friend tells us why she didn’t go to the doctor). He refused to obey the Jewish law, which he surely knew, of no work on the Sabbath (carrying a mat was transporting an object), much less healing someone. He asked the man only that one all-important question: “Do you want to be healed?”
When the man finally responded with the right answer, Jesus gave him the supreme command to take up his mat and walk. Unable to resist the master’s power and conviction, the man did just that.
The Jewish leaders nearby were aghast and outraged, and this fueled their conspiracies against Jesus. Who was this man who dared to violate the Sabbath? At first the now-healed crippled man did not know but later found out. When Jesus saw him again in the temple, He told him to “sin no more.”
This phrase has been variously interpreted and extended, depending on theological and religious convictions. The one that makes the most sense to me is given in A Course in Miracles.’Sin is an idea of evil that cannot be corrected. Sins are mistakes, they are for correction, and they call for nothing else.”
(Foundation for Inner Peace, 2007, Ch 19; III;1,5).
In seeing the cripple whole, Jesus corrected his and everyone’s mistaken idea and had no doubt the man could walk. We are called to do likewise: have total conviction that we can be healed of whatever our ‘mistake’ -physical, mental, emotional, material. Whatever our history, the length of our illness, the premise, analysis, diagnosis, or prognosis does not matter. We can be healed.
As I heal from my leg injury, I keep repeating Jesus’ words: “Get up! Take up my mat and walk!” I no longer rely on my mat of excuses, of laziness, of reliance only on physical remedies.
I remember Jesus’ command and authority and His dominion over mistaken thoughts (sin), whatever their physical manifestation. I remember His command and confidence in us to follow Him and rise.
© 2023 Noelle Sterne
Article published in More to Life – Edition 64
