John 5:1-15 - No one to help me.
He just lay there. Day after day passed. People came and went. Their ailments being so unkind that they were able to seek help themselves, while he lie alone unable to move. The young man who was severely injured in a work accident, who had five children and a wife at home who relied upon him to earn a wage, was carried down to the waters by two brothers. Praise God - he is healed! The blind woman who traveled a long distance to reach this mystical pool and when the fresh scent of the stirred water flowed past, she stepped in and gained sight! Praise God - she is healed!
Day after day the man lies there. He hears the celebrations of those who pass by, which increases his faith that if he too were just able to touch the water when it was stirred, his pain would be relieved and he could get up and walk as well. Yet no one is there to help him. Some days he just can't hold back the tears. He has wailed uncontrollably before, but he has learned that groans and moans and sounds of pain, just draw words of hatred or pity from those passing by. He has cried out asking those who pass to help him. But they are all too concerned about themselves or the person they are helping to chance letting this older man go in first. So he has learned to just be there in silence.
Then one day, after lying there for thirty-eight long years, a peculiar man approaches him and acknowledges that he exists. What is this? What does this man want? There is nothing the man lying by the pool can give him. And then Jesus speaks, "Do you want to get well?"
What kind of questions is this? Does he want to get well? Of course he does! Why else would he be lying there!
Then the poor man replies, "Sir, I have no one to help me into the pool," and I cry.
Day after day the man lies there. He hears the celebrations of those who pass by, which increases his faith that if he too were just able to touch the water when it was stirred, his pain would be relieved and he could get up and walk as well. Yet no one is there to help him. Some days he just can't hold back the tears. He has wailed uncontrollably before, but he has learned that groans and moans and sounds of pain, just draw words of hatred or pity from those passing by. He has cried out asking those who pass to help him. But they are all too concerned about themselves or the person they are helping to chance letting this older man go in first. So he has learned to just be there in silence.
Then one day, after lying there for thirty-eight long years, a peculiar man approaches him and acknowledges that he exists. What is this? What does this man want? There is nothing the man lying by the pool can give him. And then Jesus speaks, "Do you want to get well?"
What kind of questions is this? Does he want to get well? Of course he does! Why else would he be lying there!
Then the poor man replies, "Sir, I have no one to help me into the pool," and I cry.
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