Soon another Feast came around and Jesus was back in Jerusalem. Near the Sheep Gate in Jerusalem there was a pool, in Hebrew called Bethesda, with five alcoves. Hundreds of sick people—blind, crippled, paralyzed—were in these alcoves. One man had been an invalid there for thirty-eight years. When Jesus saw him stretched out by the pool and knew how long he had been there, he said, “Do you want to get well?”
The sick man said, “Sir, when the water is stirred, I don’t have anybody to put me in the pool. By the time I get there, somebody else is already in.”
Jesus said, “Get up, take your bedroll, start walking.” The man was healed on the spot. He picked up his bedroll and walked off.
That day happened to be the Sabbath. The Jews stopped the healed man and said, “It’s the Sabbath. You can’t carry your bedroll around. It’s against the rules.”
But he told them, “The man who made me well told me to. He said, ‘Take your bedroll and start walking.’”
They asked, “Who gave you the order to take it up and start walking?” But the healed man didn’t know, for Jesus had slipped away into the crowd.
A little later Jesus found him in the Temple and said, “You look wonderful! You’re well! Don’t return to a sinning life or something worse might happen.”
The man went back and told the Jews that it was Jesus who had made him well. That is why the Jews were out to get Jesus—because he did this kind of thing on the Sabbath.
But Jesus defended himself. “My Father is working straight through, even on the Sabbath. So am I.”
That really set them off. The Jews were now not only out to expose him; they were out to kill him. Not only was he breaking the Sabbath, but he was calling God his own Father, putting himself on a level with God.
John 5:1-18 The Message
During Jesus’ time the pools of Bethesda were just outside the city walls. Today the pools of Bethesda and St. Anne’s Church are inside the walls of the Old City in Jerusalem.
When we visited, it rained that morning. We stood outside looking over the pools, recalling John 5. Then we made our way inside St. Anne’s Church. It was beautiful through its simplicity. The lighting was moody, very fitting for the raining morning. Groups of people took turns singing, taking advantage of the wonderful acoustics.
We spent time roaming the area before we gathered together and Pastors Scott and Jason anointed us with oils before we began our journey tracing the Via Dolorosa.
Do you want to get well?
Jesus’ question seems rhetorical. Why would you ask a man who has been sick for 38 years if he wants to get well? Of course he does!
Or does he? Is that just our assumption?
Maybe Jesus is not trying to be rhetorical. Maybe this isn’t just a yes or no answer. It’s the dreaded question that is on a high school or college exam where it seems like a yes or no question, but then the teacher leaves enough room to answer with a paragraph. It’s a yes or no with a reasoning. A yes or no because…
I think Jesus in this case is asking that dreaded question.
Do you want to get well? [Please explain your answer.]
The man’s response sounds like an excuse. “But sir no one will help me. I cannot get there while the water is stirred. And when I do get there someone is already in.” And on. And on. And on.
Was this man really trying to get well by entering the pools of Bethesda? Had he given up all hope of being healed?
Is this what Jesus was asking?
When Jesus looked at the man and asked “Do you want to get well?” was he referring to the man’s physical health? Or was he asking the man about his spiritual life?
After Jesus heals him and sees him later in the temple, Jesus tells him “Don’t return to a sinning life.”
This part of the story is SO important. Don’t return to a sinning life. We turn to Jesus when we want to be healed, to be made whole again, to start over. We ask Jesus to heal the things we can see, the tangibles. But what about our soul? Our hope? Our conversations with God? Our fellowship with others? Without these, how do we refrain from returning to a sinning life?
A couple years ago, a friend asked me, “How’s your soul?” And I was taken aback. How’s my soul? I didn’t know how to answer.
I didn’t know how to answer because I was the man on the mat. I’d given up hope. I wasn’t waiting on a miracle, because I had given up on thinking that a miracle could come. If I were to answer that question, I would have said I was spiritually empty.
So I want to ask you:
How’s your soul?
Are you like the man on the mat? Without hope that things will get better? If so, can I pray for you?
Lord, we want to be healed. We want to live into Your goodness and grace. We want to feel Your presence deep within our souls. Lord give us hope for a better tomorrow. Amen.
Well friends, we are almost to Holy Week. And to be honest, it doesn’t feel like we’re approaching Easter with all that is happening in our world. So in an effort to combat that and fully prepare for Resurrection Sunday, I’m writing ahead to provide multiple posts on some of the days this next week. So together we can spend time with Jesus and focus our hearts on the God who sacrificed himself for us. I’m so excited we’ve almost reached our destination!
Abbey Jo
Adventures with Abbey Jo 
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