Don Friesen
Today's Gospel story is a strange one. A man is healed in this story, but it's not like other healing stories in the Gospels. It appears to be a miracle story, but it doesn't quite fit the pattern of other miracle stories in the New Testament. Take, for example, the healing of the paralytic man in Capernaum. That story started dramatically, when the man's friends decided to approach Jesus through a hole in the roof of the house. And when Jesus told the man, in effect, to stand up, take his mat and walk away (Mark 2:11), the crowd of people in that house were amazed! "They were astounded and praised God," says Mark. "‘Never before,' they said, ‘have we seen the like!" (Mark 2:12, NEB) Other miracle stories, like the healing of the man with a dreaded skin disease (Mark 1:40-45), or the healing of Jairus' daughter (Luke 8:40-56), follow a similar pattern. A person seeks out Jesus, Jesus heals the person, and those who witnessed the miracle are amazed!
Today's Gospel story, however, is different. For one thing, the person healed did not seek out Jesus. Jesus came to a pool near one of Jerusalem's ancient gates – the Sheep Gate – and saw a number of people near the pool who were ill. They were there because the pool was thought to have healing properties, particularly when its waters were stirred up. When Jesus visited the pool, the man did not seek out Jesus' attention, Jesus sought out him!
It also strikes me as strange that Jesus would approach that particular individual. There were any number of people there in need of healing, and perhaps he talked to the others, even healed them, but we are only told of the one encounter. In other New Testament stories of healing Jesus says something like, "Your faith has made you well." (Matthew 9:22; Mark 10:52; Luke 17:19), but to this man Jesus said, "Do you want to be made well?" (John 5:6) It's the kind of question that could very well invite the rejoinder, Why do you think I've been hanging around this healing pool?
It turned out that the man had been hanging around this pool for thirty-eight years! We complain about our hospital waiting times, but this beats all! And his story was a sad one. Health was almost within his reach, but, as he told Jesus, he never made it to the pool in time once its waters began to churn. "Sir," said the sick man to Jesus, "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 ahead of me." (John 5:9)
Now, if Jesus' question seems a little strange, somewhat curt and slightly inappropriate, the man's answer is also strange. Jesus asked him, "Do you want to be made well?" (John 5:6) but the man does not answer the question. Focussed on his own inability to reach his goal, he doesn't see the possibilities inherent in Jesus' question.
Jesus didn't dwell on the matter; he simply told the man, "Stand up, take your mat and walk." (John 5:8) And at once the man was made well, took up his mat, and walked away. Unlike other New Testament miracle stories, however, there is no astonishment, no amazement, no praise and celebration! Even the man who was healed says nothing!
This Story Tells us something about Jesus
It's a strange story. There's not one word about faith in the story. There's no hint that the man believed in Jesus. The man was focussed on the pool. Once healed, he expresses no gratitude, and later, when the authorities see him walking with his mat all rolled up, and ask who might be responsible for this, the man seems downright disinterested. Now, the authorities are a piece of work themselves. You'd think that upon seeing the man walking about they could have said, Hey, nice to see you up and about! But no! They too are looking elsewhere, and missing the main event.
The authorities aside, the man who was healed is not a very winsome fellow. No initiative, no gratitude, no faith that we know of, and no guts, for when he discovered who had healed him, he went out of his way to tell the authorities so that he wouldn't get in trouble! An undeserving knave! Jesus should have had some advance people going on ahead to identify someone at the pool who would look better in a Gospel story.
On the other hand, perhaps this is another of those Gospel stories that highlights God's grace. It shows us the undeserved, unmerited love of God. Some say that this story tells us more about the healer than about the heal-ee. The man is healed, not because of who he is, but because of who Jesus is. It's like Jesus' instruction to "love (our) enemies" – not because of who our enemies are, but because of who we are as Christ's followers.
This Story May also Reveal something about the Man Healed
Our Gospel story certainly tells us something about Jesus, although we already know about God's grace from other Gospel stories. And so I wonder if it was included in the New Testament accounts because it reveals more about the man who was healed than we might like to know. The key reason to pursue a different interpretation of this story is found, I think, in Jesus' question to the man, "Do you want to be made well?" (John 5:6)
In the Gospel according to the Apostle Python – first name, Monty – there is a revealing skit involving a group of beggars. The beggars accost Brian – it's his movie (Life of Brian) – and one asks, "Alms for a leper?" A second beggar asks the same, "Alms for a leper?" And then another beggar sticks out his hand and asks, "Alms for an ex-leper?"
"Did you say ‘ex-leper'?"
"That's right, sir."
"Well, what happened?"
"I was cured, sir!"
"Cured? Who cured you?"
"Jesus did, sir. I was hopping along, minding my own business, when all of a sudden, up he comes … and cures me! One minute I'm a leper with a trade, the next minute my livelihood's gone!"
It's a twisted tale, but it may very well have been lifted from our story in the Gospel of John, where it is not at all clear that the man at poolside wanted to be healed. Compare his experience, for example, with the story of the woman who had been suffering from haemorrhages for twelve years and who sought out Jesus, if only to touch the hem of his garment. There is a sense of urgency in her story. She knew what she wanted and was willing to risk anything to get it! Not so with the poolside man. After thirty-eight years he may have grown a little too accustomed to his predicament. Like Eyeore and his tail, perhaps the poolside man had grown attached to his little mat and his poolside perch. Like Saint Augustine, who prayed, "Lord, grant me chastity – but not yet!" perhaps the man in Jesus' story wasn't all that eager to be healed. Maybe, like Monty Python's ex-leper, he knew how to be sick, but after thirty-eight years he wasn't at all sure he would be able to adapt to being well!
Perhaps the poolside man was stuck in a rut. Jesus asked if he wanted to be well, and the first words out of his mouth are a whining non sequitur: Nobody will help me. They all push in ahead of me. Poor me. He had probably played the pity-me card for many, many others before Jesus came along, and it had always worked before! Poor poolside man. Life must be hard for you. It got him pity and the not-too-infrequent shekel! He knew how to languish and whine on his pity-mat. Becoming whole may have been a frightening prospect. His life would change drastically. He would have to get out of bed in the morning. He would have to get a job.
This way of looking at the story may be fanciful thinking on my part, but I think it's a plausible interpretation. Jesus' healing would certainly change the man's focus. The man was looking to the pool for healing – had been looking at it, for thirty-eight years – and it turned out that being beside the pool was beside the point!
If only my Life Was Different
The man in Jesus' story was stuck in a rut, focussed, as he was, on the pool, and particularly on those who prevented him from getting into it. If only these other people wouldn't always push ahead of me. If only Schlomo, over there on the next mat, wouldn't always roll his bulky backside in front of me, just as I'm on the verge of getting in. If only I'd gotten here a few years earlier, before this place became popular.
If only... It's a game with which we're familiar. We play it ourselves from time to time. If only I had a different spouse. If only I had a spouse! If only I were in a good school. If only I were out of school. If only I had been born in a different family. If only I'd get that lucky break. If only I had a good job. If only I had tenure. If only I could retire. If only I was thinner..., taller..., shorter… If only... If only... If only...
Sometimes what we want is just out of our reach. We may not blame others, but we feel as if we're stuck in a rut. We can't seem to take the next step, or get to the next level. And after a while, no doubt less than thirty-eight years, we're not sure that things will ever change. And Jesus' story confronts us with the question, Do you want things to change? Sometimes our problems become our pool, limiting our lives, and limiting our lives because they limit our imagination.
If only our Families Were different
On this, another Sunday in Eastertide, we also celebrate the Festival of the Christian Home, and celebrate, in our homes, Mother's Day. It's an appropriate time to think about how our Gospel story relates to our families and other relationships. There is no doubt that our families of origin influence us greatly. Long after our parents have passed on, we can still sense their presence and see their influence reflected in everything we do and say. For example, while in one woman's family it was up to Father to carve the roast, in her husband's family Mother sliced it and served the plates from the kitchen, and so what should be a fairly straightforward thing for two mature adults to settle becomes a committee meeting at which the ghosts of Father and Mother, and a few other relatives too, join in on the discussion.
Our ways of relating to each other were influenced by our early family experiences; we are conditioned to react in given ways to given situations. This can be a good thing, or it can be a bad thing. Filed away in our emotional memory banks are the smiles, congratulatory pats and compliments we received as youngsters – or conversely, the frowns, slaps and sarcastic comments or worse we received – and this storehouse of memories becomes the source of beliefs, feelings, and impressions upon which we draw throughout our lifetime. Old patterns of behaviour die hard. I have witnessed sibling rivalry extend well into old age. And if a family is particularly inflexible, its members resist change. They do not want to change the pattern, and family members will work vigorously to keep everyone in their respective roles, roles that can be limiting, if not destructive.
It is a service to no one to assume that Christian homes are good homes, well-functioning homes. There's too much evidence to the contrary. For one thing, we drag a lot of baggage into our relationships, particularly marriage relationships. The baggage includes some ruts we have inherited from generations past. Some of them we create ourselves. We feel trapped by patterns of behaviour that hold us back. And then begin the if onlys: If only my spouse would be more supportive. If only my spouse would listen to my feelings. If only my spouse would spend more time with me. If only God would change my spouse. If only my kids were a little more responsible. If only my parents weren't so strict.
Sometimes, however, we grow comfortable with these patterns and resist breaking out of these familiar ruts. It's a little like the goldfish who were used to swimming around in small circles in their little fish bowl, and when their owner poured them into a bathtub full of water, they continued to swim around in small circles!
If the New Testament message, and particularly the Easter message, tells us anything, it's that we can break out of our ruts. We are not limited by untoward circumstances. "We are more than conquerors through him who loved us," said the Apostle Paul. (Romans 8:37) Paul served time in prison, and while incarcerated he could have moaned and groaned: If only I could get parole. If only I could get early release. If only... He didn't! In fact, he befriended the Roman Imperial Guard in charge of the prison, sharing the gospel with them! He told his fellow believers, "I want you to know, ...that what has happened to me has actually helped to spread the gospel...." (Philippians 1:12) We no longer need to be chained to negative memories and events, destructive habits, or toxic ways of relating to each other. The New Testament tell us that there are no limits to what we can overcome. "I can do all things through him who strengthens me." (Philippians 4:13) It was this spiritual impulse that inspired the early Christians to break out of their rut and to accept Gentiles into their fellowship.
There are times where we need to hear Jesus' rather abrupt advice: "Stand up!" "Stand up, pick up your mat, and off with you!" (John 5:8, paraphrase) Stop waiting for your ship to come in, and start swimming! Break out of your rut. It may be time, as Hebrews advises, to "lay aside every encumbrance, (everything that) ...easily entangles us" (Hebrews 12:1), and get on with it! And Jesus, "the author and finisher of our faith" (Hebrews 12:2) will help us.
We can look to God's Holy Spirit to "trim the rather twisted branches of our being... (and) ...renew us from within." (Jean Vanier, Community and Growth, page 11) The New Testament witnesses to the transforming power of Jesus' presence in the Holy Spirit. He is the one who changed water into wine, loser-disciples into the bedrock of the Church, and death into life! And he will change our relationships, our marriages, our families for the better, if we work with him.
All quotations of Scripture, unless otherwise noted, are from the New Revised Standard Version.