The question of John 5 “Do you want to be made well?” is stunning but almost eclipsed by the sick man’s refusal to acknowledge and respond to the question!

The sermon text is below the sermon videos in church.

https://zionepiscopal.com/Sermon%20Videos/sixth-sunday-of-easter-5-22-2022.html

Sermon Preached at Zion Episcopal Church, Washington NC
Sunday May 22nd
The Reverend Alan Neale
“The Perils of Resignation”

On Thursday past, Wendy and I drove from Cirencester (the so-called capital of the English Cotswolds) to London, Heathrow to begin our journey home… and yes, indeed, it is home; we seem now to visit England as aliens – but that’s for another time.

On the way we stopped at an historic home, Osterley Park and House, a Georgian country estate of the late 1500’s.

Wendy tends to take her time in such houses, I tend to move more and more quickly between the rooms but then suddenly… literally… I stopped in my tracks. There in front of me was an oil painting from the early 18th century, some 12 by 12 feet, its artist Sebastiano Ricci. Signor Ricci had painted a scene from our Gospel for today (John 5)… The Miracle of the Pool of Bethesda.

Maybe with divine inspiration, the artist presented a scene of frenetic activity, of a most densely crowded area. If you looked carefully, Jesus was addressing a disabled man but without much success; only his followers seemed even faintly interested.

Clearly the scene of our Gospel was a favorite of Signor Ricci’s; as it was of another well-known person. I read these words last night from a journal of Dr. Billy Graham’s: (see note below marked *)

It is in this story that we hear that most radical, problematic, almost laughable, question – “Do you want to be made well?”.

With the utmost reverence I feel I must respond, “Well, duh, well yes… of course he wants to be made well.” But then I accept, I have to accept, that the Master at work is a master craftsman of the soul and He, Father, knows best.

Before we look at that provocative verse, I want to affirm that an honest reading of the Gospels does not present a single method, pattern, process of healing. When the four men in Mark 4 literally raise the roof to bring their sick friend to Jesus, Jesus commends them (not the friend) for their faith (and even then he forgives the soul before ever he heals the body). In Mark 8, Jesus heals the blind man sufficiently for him to see “men but walking as trees”, so Jesus tries a second time and the healing is complete… the varied examples are almost endless. But friends, this is I know (Exodus 15:26) “I am the Lord that heals you” – maybe the word for us today.

But back to the question, that almost seems redundant, “Do you want to be made well?”. Without the aid of preachers or Biblical commentators, you all have already noticed that though the man hears Jesus, he does not hear the question. His response is totally unconnected; instead of an affirmative or negative reply… the man proceeds to give Jesus a potted history on the legends surrounding the pool at Bethesda. It’s all rather sweet really, when the water is disturbed it means that an angel has descended on the water and… whoever is first in, gets healed. Geologists tell us that the water was built on springs so the disturbance came from below not from above… but it all makes for a good yarn, rather like Loch Ness I guess.

“Do you want to be made well?”

Years ago, I heard the story of a new resident in a Vermont town attending his first town meeting. As the debate raged, he could contain himself no longer. He stood up and shouted, “Listen, folks, you have to grow, you have to change or you will die.” He sat down, and a native of the area whispered, “If I were you, I wouldn’t give them that sort of choice!”.

“Do you want to be made well?”

The Greek word for “well” (hugies) is none too common but simply means sound, whole, healthy without the usual linguistic connection to salvation.

The Greek word for “want to” (thelies) attracted my attention… it has to do with being willing, with a capacity for delight and desire, with the strength to want and to yearn.

This poor man unable to recognize nor understand Jesus, this poor man had been ill for thirty-eight years constantly and vainly trying to obtain “the angelic blessing”; this poor man had been all this time surrounded by the blind, the lame and the paralyzed – not really a community that breeds and nurtures hope.

By this response to Jesus, the man showed himself to be bereft of any capacity to hope, any assurance of care, any glimmer of rescue. The man has resigned himself to being the victim of others and blaming others; to quote one commentator “he is enjoying his pity-pool-party” and she continues, “the man could have laughed at the question, or responded with some sarcastic comment. Or maybe he was so numb from decades of futile attempts that he just shrugged and offered the only answer he could. Resignation is a dangerous thing.”

And so Jesus did what had to be done… he takes hold of the situation, pronounces the divine word and creates in a moment health, strength and freedom. Jesus gives the man a double blessing – he heals the body and awakens his heart.

For this, we too crave, for ourselves, for our church and for others – that no slough of despond will ever drag us down fully, nor winds of misfortune topple us down and over, nor rains of despair sweep us away.

Brothers and sisters in Christ, know this – that even if we cannot summon a “Yes” to Jesus, He will become the “Yes” that we need to utter that we may be made sound, whole and healthy… kept to the last by His care.

You know, slightly with tongue in cheek, with today’s Gospel in mind, I realize there is no place for pool-side sitting, nor hot tub dipping (at least in our own Bethesdas)… there is only a place for Jesus to speak the word of empowerment and we shall be saved.

Thanks be to God,

Amen
*
After preaching at Windsor one Sunday, I was sitting next to the Queen at lunch. I told her I had been undecided until the last minute about my choice of sermon and had almost preached on the healing of the crippled man in John 5. Her eyes sparkled and she bubbled over with enthusiasm as she could do on occasion. ‘I wish you had,’ she exclaimed. ‘That is my favorite story’.