THE IMPOTENT
MAN
John 5:1-18
An ultimate interest attaches to this account because it
gives the account of an activity of Jesus in connection with which He made a
claim that, so far as human instrumentality is concerned, cost Him His life. It
was what He did and said upon this occasion stirred the malice of the rulers
against Him, and that hostility never ceased. John tells us: "For this cause therefore the Jews
sought the more to kill Him, because He not only brake the Sabbath, but also
called God His Father, making Himself equal with God."
If we glance on to chapter seven, which so far as the
chronological sequence of our Lord's life is concerned carries us nearly two
years on, we find that He, speaking to these same men in opposition to Him,
said: "If a man receiveth
circumcision on the Sabbath, that the law of Moses may not be broken; are ye
wrath with Me, because I made a man every whit whole on the Sabbath?"
The reference was unquestionably to this healing of the man
in Bethesda's porches. It was here and now that their determination was taken
to slay Him, and they never rested until, again on the human level, they had
accomplished their purpose.
The claim which He made, and which they resented, was that of
co-operation with God, and He made it in such terms that whatever we might be
inclined to think it meant, they clearly understood by the claim itself, and
the form in which it was made, that He was claiming equality with God: "My Father worketh even until now, and
I work."
The claim was perfectly distinct in the declaration that God
was, to use their words, "His own
Father." Thus He claimed that in the thing He had done which in itself
did not raise their anger, but did raise their objection because it had been
done on the Sabbath day. His vindication for His action was that of His
equality with God.
When we turn to the account itself, we find that in the whole
of our articles on the great Physician, none is more dramatic and revealing
than this, both in itself, and in His interpretation thereof.
The account of the man himself, and of those among whom he
was found, when Jesus passed through Bethesda's porches, is a revelation of the
people for whom He cared, and whom He came to seek and save. The account,
moreover, reveals His method with such. These introductory considerations are
intended to arrest attention, and to fix it upon the highest and true level of
the account itself.
We look then first at the man. He passes before us nameless.
He is seen as one of a crowd. John's description of that crowd is graphic in
the extreme. He says that in the porches lay a multitude of "sick, blind, halt, withered."
"Sick," that is, utterly strengthless; "blind," sightless; "halt,"
crippled; and finally that almost terrific word, "withered." Here we see a company of the unfit, the
derelicts, the outcasts, and all this by reason of physical disability; and in
all likelihood, in the majority of cases, such disability resulting from moral
malady. These people are seen close to the pool which was near to the sheep gate,
and is called the Pool of Bethesda. Opinions differ as to what that name really
means, because it has been given in different forms. If Bethesda is the true
name it means the house of mercy. In recent years it is claimed that a
discovery has been made of the actual place of the pool, and if that discovery
is correct, then the pool lay deeply down; and in order for this man, or any
other, to get into its waters, he had to descend a steep declivity of steps.
If those seen there were derelict, it is nevertheless true
that their very presence revealed their desire for recovery. The sheep gate was
situated in the north. It was close to the market-place, the place of traffic,
the place where the merchants were busily occupied, and business was conducted.
It was not the usual entrance to Jerusalem for any other than those so
interested. It is significant that Jesus chose upon that day to go that way. Occasionally
the waters of the pool were troubled. Our revisers have omitted what
unquestionably was an annotation, concerning the troubling of the waters by an
angel. That was the popular interpretation as to the cause. It may be taken for
granted that the pool was fed by one of those natural springs still to be found
in the district, which ever and anon bubbled up. Attributing this to angelic
influence, men believed that to pass into those waters would be to find
healing. Possibly, too, there were those who did find healing.
Now as Jesus passed through, we are told that He saw one thus
referred to: "A certain man was there, which had been thirty and eight years
in his infirmity."
Thirty-eight years! Let an attempt be made to realize what
that really meant. We do not know for how much of that period he had been
brought to lie near the pool, waiting for the troubling of the waters.
Then, taking the whole account into account for a moment, we
discover that this man's physical disability was due to a moral malady. In
passing, we emphasize the fact that that is not always so. In the last analysis
all sickness in the world is the outcome of sin, or broken law. That does not
mean that those suffering from disease are necessarily those who are guilty of
the breaking of law. The fact that in this case the man's malady was first
moral is revealed in the words that Jesus addressed to him later in the day,
when He said: "Behold, thou art made
whole; sin no more."
The more accurate rendering of that word would be: "Thou art made whole; no longer
continue in sin."
It is in this solemn word of Jesus to him later that we are
brought face to face with the fact that his physical disability was the outcome
of sin.
So he is seen, lying helpless, unable to do anything for
himself, apparently, a sufferer familiar enough to others, and indeed so
familiar that they have become careless about him. Moreover he was utterly
hopeless as is revealed at the moment quite clearly. While still there near the
pool, he had lost all hope of being able to avail himself of its healing powers.
It is indeed a tragic picture.
As we turn to consider our Lord's method with him, we go back
to the introductory things which have been said, and so pass on to our Lord's
words to the rulers: "My Father
worketh even until now, and I work."
When these rulers discovered the man carrying his mattress on
the Sabbath day, they charged him with breaking the Sabbath. His reply was at
once artless, and sensible, and natural: "He
that made me whole, the Same said unto me, Take up thy bed, and walk."
The answer was simple enough, but it was inspirational, for
it claimed that the sanction for His action was found in the power of the One
Who told him do so as vindicated in the wonder of his healing. It is certainly
an arresting fact that this man did not know Who it was. The rulers, however,
discovered, and then found Jesus, and charged Him with causing this man to
break the Sabbath. They objected to the violation of a tradition concerning
their Sabbath, while they were blind to the wonder wrought in the case of this
derelict specimen of humanity. A broken tradition was more to them than a
healed man. It was then that Jesus said to them: "My Father worketh even until now, and I work."
As we ponder these words coming out of the deep consciousness
of our Lord, that is the consciousness of His whole personality, we discover in
them His understanding of the things He was doing. He linked Himself with God
in activity, and it was as though He said in effect to these rulers, You charge
Me with breaking Sabbath. YOU do not realise that God has no Sabbath, nor can
have while men are lying in this derelict condition.
If we take the whole sweep of human history as we find it in
our Bible, we see man revolting from heaven's high decree and ordinance, and so
bringing upon himself suffering. We see more-over, that in the moment when man
thus revolted, the rest of God
was broken in upon. We read in Genesis that God created everything, saw that it
was good, and rested from His
work; but from the moment in which man sinned, and so involved himself in suffering;
God became active with a new activity. Thus in this profound utterance of our
Lord, He declared the restlessness of God in the presence of sin, and all its
consequent suffering; and revealed the fact of the activity of God to end sin
and suffering, and so to give men rest. Thus the word of Jesus spans the
running centuries and millenniums. So long as humanity is derelict, God is
restless with the restlessness that is the inspiration of activity, an activity
that moves toward the recovery of man from his sin and suffering, and giving to
him cleansing and completeness. All that lies at the back of this account, and
makes it so highly significant. We therefore are to join Him in this
restlessness.
As we turn to watch the details of the account, we are first
impressed with the fact that passing through Bethesda's porches He saw the man.
It is, as we said at the beginning, a dramatic account, for He only spoke to
this man three times. If we set the three sayings out, these are they.
"Wouldst thou be made whole?"
"Arise, take up thy bed, and walk."
"Behold, thou art made whole; no
longer continue in sin, lest a worse thing befall thee."
In these brief sentences considered in relation to the man,
and their effect upon him, the whole method of God in Christ with derelict
humanity stands vividly revealed.
He first addressed to him a question, "Wouldst thou be made whole?" The Old Version rendered
it, "Wilt thou be made whole?"
That is not necessarily wrong, but it may mislead us if we think of the word "wilt" as a part of the verb
to will, as decision made. The Lord was not addressing the man's will, but
rather his desire. We may give an accurate interpretation to the question if we
put it in this form, “Do you want to be
made whole?” Thus in His first approach to the man our Lord invaded and
challenged him in the realm of the deepest thing in human personality. This is
not intellect; it is not volition; it is not emotion; but it is that which
perhaps results from all these in a way, namely, desire. He appealed to him as
to whether he was content with his condition, as to whether he was satisfied,
or as to whether he would rather be made whole. That is always Christ's first
approach to the human soul. If it should be so that that man had answered Him,
or that any should answer Him quite truthfully, declaring satisfaction, then He
had and He has no more to say.
But the effect produced was that he replied, evidently in
tones of protest. He said: "Sir, I
have no man, when the water is troubled, to put me into the pool, but while I
am coming, another steps down before me."
This cannot be read without the fact becoming apparent that
his difficulty lay in his helplessness. If we can put ourselves into the
personality of that man I think we shall understand it. Here a passing
Stranger, for we are told afterwards that he did not know Jesus, looked at him,
and asked this question. By so doing, He would rouse in the man something that
had been almost forgotten by him. His answer in effect said, The question is unnecessary.
Of course I do not choose to remain in this condition.
Necessarily I would rather be whole. Thus our Lord had reached the very core of
his personality.
Yet there is more in his reply than that. The Lord's question
having thus made him face his actual condition, and recognize the deeper fact
of his desire, brought him to an open statement concerning his hopelessness.
That hopelessness was born of his helplessness; and yet in the very fact that
he thus faced his sense of hopelessness, one cannot but see springing up within
him, a new and wistful dawn of hope. Here, as is so constantly the case, we
have to account for what happened not in the mere letter of the account, but in
the facts concerning the personality of our Lord. There was something in the
look of His eyes, something in the tone of His voice, which made the man wonder
what He meant, and wonder along the line of hope. The question of Jesus drew
him to speak of the deepest thing of his life.
Thus we see this man, a morally depraved, physical derelict,
a withered soul, implicitly confessing that the deepest thing in his life was
the desire for wholeness. As in a previous article: perfection, pleasure and
permanence. He told this Stranger that his case was hopeless, and yet by the
very fact of his speech, revealed something which he saw in the personality of
Jesus which arrested him, and called forth his speech.
It was at that point that Jesus spoke again, and said: "Arise, take up thy bed, and
walk."
I never reach that stage in the account without wanting to
imagine that I was there and that as an on-looker. Perhaps I had often passed
that pool, and seen that man; it may be, occasionally, flung him a coin and
gone on my way. But here today I see a Stranger speaking to him, and I am
arrested; and now I hear this Stranger saying to this man, "Arise, take up thy bed, and walk." Watching this, my
first inclination is to make a protest and to say to Jesus, What do you mean by
this? Do You not realize You are telling this man to do the one thing he cannot
do? Do You suppose if he could rise and take up his mattress and walk he would
be lying there? What do You mean by telling him to do an impossible thing? But
that is exactly what Christ did, and what He always does. He brings the soul
face to face with the one thing that seems impossible, whatever it may be, and
commands him to act at that point. Watching the scene again, and imagining my
own attitude that of protest, suddenly I see the man doing the very thing, and
I look at him walking away, carrying his mattress. That is Christianity in an
almost blinding flash of glory. That is what Christ has been doing through all
the centuries, bringing men face to face with the one thing that paralyses
them, and enabling them to do the thing they could not do.
In this whole command of Jesus there is contained a complete
program. The first thing is "Rise";
the second is, "Take up thy
bed"; and the third and continuous, is "Walk." At this point we ask properly and necessarily, how
do we account for this? He could not do it, but he did it. If we allow ourselves
for a moment to enter into the consciousness of the man we may state the
process thus. This Stranger has asked me if I want to be made whole. Of course
I do, but there is no chance. Yet there is something about Him that enables me
to tell Him of my helplessness. While I am wondering, He commands me to do
something I cannot. He must mean something by that command. I will obey,
because He commands. In that moment, when the will of the man touched the will
of God in Christ, he made contact with healing power, and there flashed across
that line of connection, health of spirit, mind, and body. Two years later, our
Lord referring to it said, "Made
every whit whole." All this may be said to be mystical. It certainly
is out of the realm of the mechanical on the earthly level, but it is equally
certain on the level of the heavenly activity. The moment in which contact was
made between the will of Christ for the man, and the will of man in obedience,
enablement came to him.
Then followed the command, "Take up thy bed." I never come to that without
abandoning exposition, and accepting the exposition that came years ago from
the pen of Dr. Marcus Dods. He said, Why did Jesus tell that man to take up his
bed, and walk? And his answer was "In
order that he should make no provision for a relapse!" The whole
philosophy of Christian life is there. This man, acting in obedience, might
have said, Well, surely I have risen, I am healed, but I have acquired a vested
interest in this place, and perhaps it would be well to leave my mattress
there, in case this thing is not permanent. Had he done so he would have found
himself back before much time had passed. One secret of continuity in power of
the healing which Christ brings is that we burn our bridges behind us, and cut
ourselves adrift from the things that had blasted us.
The final word of Jesus in this sentence was "Walk." The value of that may
be expressed if we say that our Lord warned him against wanting to be carried.
Let there be constant action in the power of the healing received.
It is to be carefully
observed that this man thus healed, made his way to the Temple. His physical
disability, if not his spiritual and moral, had excluded him from those
precincts. Directly he was restored, he crossed this threshold again, and there
Christ met him, and uttered the last word: "Behold,
thou art made whole; no longer continue in sin, lest a worse thing happen unto
thee."
Christ never says to anyone "No longer continue in sin" until He first says "Thou art made whole." As we
make contact with Him in an act of willing surrender. He gives us the power
which enables us to live no longer under the mastery of sin, but some who claim
to be Christian, do. They only fool themselves for there are many types such as
this that shall not enter the kingdom (Matt. 7:21; 18:3). The whole account is
indeed a matchless unveiling of God in Christ, unable to rest while humanity
suffers, working always in order that sin may be dealt with, and suffering end.
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