Who Needs a Miracle?

I’ve read the book of John many times so the verses have become familiar. If I’m not careful I read them so fast that I allow familiarity to take away the power they have. When I study familiar passages, I make a conscious effort to read it with fresh eyes. I want to be astonished at Jesus’s miracles – like the recipients of those miracles must have been. I want to consider how that miracle changed the lives of real people. One of those familiar passages is in John 5.

Let’s consider how one miracle changed the life of one man. . .  

It had been a busy year for Jesus and His disciples. Once again, they were in Jerusalem for Passover-the second one since Jesus began His public ministry. The year before He’d driven out the vendors and moneychangers who had set up their businesses in the temple complex. This year, Jesus had a different task in mind.

Jesus made His way through the crowded streets on the Sabbath. He was headed for the pool of Bethesda, located near the sheep gate, where the animals were brought into the temple complex for sacrifice. Jesus knew many people were gathered there.

A common belief had developed that an angel would stir the waters in the pool, and the first person to enter the pool after this movement would be healed.

(NOTE: In most Bible translations the last part of John 5:3 and all of verse 4 is set apart with brackets. This section about the angel stirring the water is not in the earliest manuscripts but was added in the 5th century. Perhaps it was added to explain the commonly held belief of the time.)  

Each person gathered at the pool was sick, or blind, or lame, or paralyzed. Each person waited by the water’s edge hoping for a miracle. Each person was desperate in one way or another. Jesus approached a man lay on a pallet. Jesus knew his life-just like He knew the lives of each person waiting there. This man had been unable to walk for thirty-eight years.

“Do you wish to get well?” Jesus asked the man.

The man had no idea who Jesus was. The hope of getting well was why everyone was anxiously waiting there.

“Sir, I don’t have anyone to help me into the pool when the water stirs. Before I can get there, someone else steps in before me,” he answered.

“Arise, take up your pallet, and walk,” said Jesus.

Immediately, the man was healed. His legs that hadn’t worked in thirty-eight years were suddenly, miraculously, strong and healthy. He rose from his bed. He bent over and picked it up.

And walked.

Scripture does not tell us why Jesus healed only this man. We are not told how this man reacted. But can you just imagine? After being unable to walk for thirty-eight years, surely this man screamed and ran and jumped and moved his toes. And told everyone he saw.

While the man rejoiced, Jesus blended in to the crowd.

Religious leaders heard what happened and sought out the man who had been healed. Maybe he was easy to find in the crowd still running and jumping on his healthy feet. They chastised the healed man for carrying his pallet which they considered “working” on the Sabbath.   

When the leaders found out Jesus had performed another miracle, they were not happy. Instead of worshipping the miracle-working Son of God, they chastised Jesus for “working” on the Sabbath.

“My Father is working until now, and I Myself am working,” Jesus told them.

To their way of thinking, first Jesus broke the laws of the Sabbath, then made Himself equal with God. Their hatred for Jesus boiled over again. They sought a way to kill Jesus.

They wanted to put a stop to the influence Jesus had over the people once and for all. One year later, at the next Passover, they thought they succeeded. They arranged to have Jesus crucified and thought they had put an end to His influence.  

They didn’t know it was just the beginning.

I wonder about the man Jesus healed that day at the pool of Siloam. Was he in the crowd a year later when many called out to crucify Jesus? Did he stand on two healthy feet in the distance watching the crucifixion? Did he tell everyone he met that Jesus really was the Son of God?

Carla Killough McClafferty