John’s Gospel story (5:1-9) is about the man who waited 38 years at the side of the pool in Beth-zatha, in Jerusalem next to the Sheep Gate for the possibility of healing in its waters. We are reminded of human persistence in the face of suffering for many people. 38 years was a long time and he was waiting because his disability prevented him from being the first to reach the waters when they stirred. When this happened, people suffering with blindness, lameness, paralysis were healed, but others were always quicker. He never made it in time.
There is very little description of the disabled man in the Gospel – he is sick, he’s been seeking healing for 38 years, and although he’s called the ‘paralysed man’, we don’t know the extent or cause of his lameness, but clearly, he had some movement. We also read Jesus knew about him, and knew him enough to ask if he wanted healing. Jesus didn’t talk about his faith, or offer to heal with conditions.
When Jesus asked if he wanted to be healed, the man replied instead about why he was still lying waiting. His answer tells us of the man’s weariness and low expectations about anything being possible for him, but there he was, day after day, still hoping. He had not given up. Jesus also knew him, the waters at Beth-zatha would have been well known for those who needed healing and I suspect this wouldn’t have been the first time Jesus went there. It sounds like he recognised the man and knew of his hope in this possible healing.
Hope is so hard to find and hold onto in difficult times. Hope can be let go when there is no end in sight for the suffering, the unrelenting circumstances and the daily grind of life, when there appears to be no possibility of change.
It makes us ask questions of God: how could this person be healed and not that one? How come he’s had to wait 38 years? Why did Jesus heal him and none of the others?
In the darkest of times, we can also find people accusing God of causing the suffering in the first place.
But in spite of those questions, we can’t ignore the reality of the hope resting in each of us, the hope God gives us, like a light in the darkness, shining into our hearts, minds and bodies. And I see hope all around me in the most unlikely of places and people.
I hear the hope and despair of those in Ukraine who are continuing to call for justice and help with defence and refusing to give up.
I hear the hope and despair of those seeking the release of the hostages by Hamas and an end to the dreadful suffering of the civilians, children and hostages imprisoned within Gaza by the Israeli government without any relief allowed for anyone.
I hear the hope of our First Nations sisters and brothers who, in spite of the countless rejections by the more recent arrivals to this ancient land, still greet, share, listen, talk and educate us.
I hear the hope taking root as the resistance grows across the US to some of the more extreme decisions being made by the current administration as people learn to be brave and courageous.
We don’t always get to hear hope in our news cycles. However, as wiser people have reminded me, it is in God we have hope, we have faith and we have trust. We pray without ceasing; and when everything else has failed, hope is still present in God’s love. We might not recognise it, but God knows it is in us, just as we are in God. God calls it into being as God calls us. Jesus spoke of love even as he was being betrayed. He spoke of hope while hanging, nailed to the cross, to the thief seeking forgiveness. He brough hope and peace when he forgave Peter and his disciples after his resurrection. There is no place dark enough to extinguish this hope, light and love.
The paralysed man did not have the energy to say ‘yes’ to Jesus’ obvious question: Do you want to be made well?’ (John 5:6)
Instead, I hear with sadness the man’s response, as he clearly felt he needed once again, to justify his failure to make it into the water. He explained his lengthy wait in the portico watching for the water to stir and knowing always he was unlikely to make it into the water first.
Yet, hope comes unasked when God is present. Always. It is a gift of God in the stillness of our faith, praying without words, as we are stripped to the bedrock of faith however shaky it feels, and hope is there when all else is gone, burned away in the suffering and in the dying to our circumstances. God brings it and holds it for us when we are too weary to do so ourselves.
Jesus asks all of us: Do you want to be made well? How might you answer such a question? Wellness reminds us of healing, grief passing away, mourning no more, of welcomed reconciliation, wholeness and restoration, to family, to community, to God. Wellness implies peace brought, shared and given, a new creation brought into view and our lives will never be the same again.
I imagine the man staring at Jesus as he hears him say: ’Stand up, take your mat and walk.’ (John 5:8). It seems the man responded immediately, without thinking as he stood up ‘at once’, and he did as Jesus invited: he took up his mat and walked. The glory of the Lord was present in such a moment, as those around would have been amazed. The clamour of those seeking the same wellness would have risen almost immediately. The guardians of the pool would have been annoyed, but the man was restored fully into life. Jesus recognised his hope and despair, his weariness and truly saw him, a man, whose name is unknown, but Jesus knew him well and responded to his resilience, his suffering and made him well.
The Lord be with you.
