I'll confess. I sometimes find it difficult to open the Bible. Though I know intellectually that it is living and active, somewhere in my subconscious lurks the lie that I've heard it all before.
Yet on the days when my Spirit proves stronger than flesh, and I pull that brick-heavy book from my bedside to my lap, I never cease to be amazed at the constant treasures that are revealed to me from its pages.
Recently, I've been reading John. It is my favorite of the gospels, and it has become even dearer to me these past few days.
In the initial verses of chapter 5, we are introduced to a man who has been an invalid for thirty-eight years, who is lying beside a pool called Bethesda. When Jesus learns of this, He walks up to the man and asks, "Do you want to get well?" (v.6).
I love this scene. There are so many cases in which people sought Jesus out for healing, and those stories are beautiful testimonies to the promise, "Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you," (Matthew 7:7). But this is a different kind of story. And it too, is beautiful. Jesus seeks this man out. This man has no idea who Jesus is, but Jesus learns of his need, and finds him. And asks him. Do you want to get well?
Because sometimes we don't want to get well. Sometimes we're comfortable beside our pool. Sometimes we're satisfied in our sickness. We're so well-adjusted to living with our anxiety, our anger, our bitterness, our sin, that we'd much rather continue on in this manner than take up our mat and walk.
It's interesting to note that in this story, the man does not answer Jesus directly. Instead, he offers an excuse: "I have no one to help me into the pool when the water is stirred. While I am trying to get in, someone else goes down ahead of me," (v.7).
Of course, this man's excuse is valid, as he does not at this time have access to the supernatural power of the Holy Spirit to aid him. We, however, do. Yet, when Jesus asks us if we'd like to be healed, how many times do we respond with an excuse? How often do we pass the blame? "I'd love to be healed Jesus, but I can't help the way I am. It's in my DNA," or "So-and-so made me this way. It's not my fault."
(Please hear me on this: I am absolutely not trying to downplay some of the horrific mental, emotional, physical, and demonic circumstances we struggle with. But I do want to amplify the power of the God we serve. Nothing is beyond the reach of His healing hand. His arm is not too short to save.)
Jesus tells the man at Bethesda to get up, take his mat, and walk. The man obeys, and he is healed. Later, the man is interrogated by Pharisees as to who told him to pick up his mat (it was the Sabbath). The man shrugs his shoulders, "for Jesus has slipped away into the crowd," (v.13).
But, and this is so beautiful to me, in the following verse, Scripture reads, "Later Jesus found him." Jesus didn't just provide physical healing for this man. He intentionally sought him out a second time to give the man what he truly needed--an introduction to Himself.
There are days when I feel like a lost lamb. There are days when I fear I've strayed too far to find my way back home. What an incredible thing to know that there is a good Shepherd, full of compassion and mercy, who will search me out. I pray all of us will answer when we hear His call.
