no longer helpless

(Prepared for Mother’s day May 9, 2010 by W.Logan, Crows Nest Lutheran parish Queensland Australia)

The key message:
The risen Jesus is here to help us: this means we are no longer helpless or hopeless. He makes us well.

John 5:2-9
(2)  Near the Sheep Gate in Jerusalem there is a pool with five porches; in Hebrew it is called Bethzatha. [Bethesda]  (3)  A large crowd of sick people were lying on the porches---the blind, the lame, and the paralyzed.  (5)  A man was there who had been sick for thirty-eight years. (6)  Jesus saw him lying there, and he knew that the man had been sick for such a long time; so he asked him, "Do you want to get well?"
(7)  The sick man answered, "Sir, I don't have anyone here to put me in the pool when the water is stirred up; while I am trying to get in, somebody else gets there first." (8)  Jesus said to him, "Get up, pick up your mat, and walk."
(9)  Immediately the man got well; he picked up his mat and started walking. The day this happened was a Sabbath,

Can you think of a time your mother was kind to you?  [Apart from some sad rare exceptions] Our mothers have been kind to us in many ways! We might think of the meals she cooked for us. Clothes she made or bought for us. What about presents? Bedtime stories? Games she taught us and played with us? What about the times you were sick?

Every baby goes through a range of illnesses from ear infections to colds, reflux, and more. Fathers often have to help, but most of the responsibility for caring for us, especially when we are little, seems to fall on our mothers. We thank God for our mothers, for their love, their sacrifice, their patience, their kindness.

Sooner or later, though, we have to face life without our mothers. We might have to go to boarding school, spend time at Ironbark [a 5-week residential outdoor education program for year 9 students], go overseas on an exchange program, or it might happen simply when we grow up and leave home. Our mothers will love us for the whole of our lives, we trust, and we love them too, but it’s when we are young and vulnerable that we particularly need them.

The man in today’s 3rd reading was not young, but he was needy. We don’t know how old he was, but he had been sick for 38 years. So he wasn’t young any more. Maybe in the early years of his sickness, his mother cared for him but it doesn’t look like she, or anyone else was around any more, to help him:

“I don’t have anyone here to help me,” he said.

He was alone, in his sickness.

If you’ve been sick for a long time, this can happen. Being sick stops you from working. It can be hard to go to parties. When everyone else goes to the family gatherings you get to stay home:  this might sound good if you’re not keen on family gatherings, but without regular contact relationships tend to diminish and you drift away into isolation, and maybe into loneliness.

This can be hard for a person to admit. Especially men. We like being strong. Independent. Healthy. Able to work. When we have to, we can put in long hours. We can work hard. We like to provide for our families. Being unemployed can really kick the guts out of a man’s identity.  If you’ve been unemployed, you’ll know what it’s like. If you’ve ever had to stand in line at Centrelink, you know how demoralising that can be. You struggle with the question, ‘will I ever get out of this awful situation?’ Is there anyone who can give me a break? A chance to rejoin or join the ranks of the ‘acceptable’ people in society, those who work and make a contribution?

The man in John 5 was probably unemployed. Most work in those days would have involved physical labour. His sickness meant he couldn’t move very fast. Maybe he couldn’t move at all. What use was he? We value people who can move quickly, don’t we? The pressure is to do more, get it right, and do it quickly… then do more, more, more, quicker, better, faster! So we try. We do more. We work our engines hard… Our tanks run dry, the oil gets used up…and engine starts to seize up.

John wrote in chapter 5 of his gospel, (verses 2 and 3) “Near the Sheep Gate in Jerusalem there is a pool with five porches; in Hebrew it is called Bethzatha. [or Bethesda] (3)  A large crowd of sick people were lying on the porches---the blind, the lame, and the paralyzed.”

This man may have been one of the paralyzed. But he was at a place of healing. Bethesda means ‘House of kindness.’ But there was a catch: to access the healing power of that place, you had to be quick. You had to be the first one to get into the pool after the waters were stirred, (apparently by an angel).  He couldn’t do it. So whenever it happened, he always missed out.

Do you know what that feels like? Do you know the pain, the grief, the sadness of missing out, time after time? Other people seem to get it together. Other people seem to make a go of things… somehow what they do works… they get to own their home, own their own business, enjoy good health, have a close and healthy family… They have holidays. People listen to them. People respect them. Obviously God must love them…

I wonder if this is an accurate summary of what went through the mind of the man in our text?
“Here I am, sick. 38 years a useless helpless sick excuse of a human being. Surely a disappointment my parents, my family, my friends – well, not that I have any. I suppose God is disappointed with me too. Or maybe he’s too busy, looking after the good people, answering their prayers, protecting their children, giving them good lives.”

God wasn’t too busy. And he wasn’t far away, looking after the “good people”. He was there, at ‘Bethesda,’ the house of kindness. He was there to make it truly a house of kindness, for this man. (Jesus makes this house of worship truly a house of kindness. May he make every place a place in which we give and receive kindness!).

Jesus knew this man had been sick for a long time. He knew his sadness. His grief. His sense of inferiority. (Just as he knows ours.) He asked the man, ‘Do you want to get well?’

A strange question, surely?! Maybe not. Maybe it was a wise, discerning question:
After 38 years… maybe this man had given up. Maybe his constant disappointment had made him hard and cynical. Disappointment hurts. Why get your hopes up? Why be positive and optimistic, when nothing good seems to happen anyway?

Jesus asked this man, ‘Do you want to get well?’
He answered "Sir, I don't have anyone to help me. I always miss out. Someone else beats me into the water.”

What Jesus said next, and did for this man, gave him a new song to sing. Jesus said: ‘Friend, you won’t miss out any longer. You are no longer alone. You are no longer helpless. I have come to help you. Get up, pick up your mat, and walk."

And immediately the man got well. He picked up his mat and started walking.

This is what Jesus says to you. To all of you who feel alone. Helpless. Disappointed and sad because of all you have lost and all you cannot do or achieve:

‘You are no longer alone. You are no longer helpless. I have come to help you. Get up, pick up your mat, and walk."

Amen!

‘Lord Jesus, you know my sickness, my needs, all the challenges I face. You know how long I’ve been sick or in need. Today I hear you say to me, ‘get up, pick up your mat and walk! May your words heal me. Make me well. Thank you that I am no longer helpless. Thank you that I am no longer alone: thank you that You have come into my life, to be my Saviour, my healer, my Lord,  my friend, forever. Thank you Jesus! Amen!’