When Jesus saw him lying there and realized he had already been there a long time, he said to him, “Do you want to get well? ” John 5:6
“If you knew what my dad did to me, you’d understand why I act this way.”
“My grade school teacher told me I was worthless; that’s why I can’t hold down a job.”
“My brother was the favorite. My parents spent all their money sending him to college, and I couldn’t afford to go.”
These stories, and millions like them, paralyze people. Although they represent legitimately painful situations in people’s lives, these horrific accounts have become the reason these people have lashed out at others or have given up on life or have thoroughly failed.
Jesus was on His way to the temple feast when he passed a pool call Bethesda. The word means a “place of kindness.” Tradition had it that when the water in this pool began to stir, the first person to touch it would be healed. As he did so often, Jesus encountered a man with a disability and changed his life. Then He healed him—kindness upon kindness.
The man had been unable to walk for thirty-eight years. No doubt he had become a fixture in the area. He probably survived from the charity handed him from pass- ersby. It wasn’t much, but it was a living. When Jesus spoke to the man, He asked a dreadfully inappropriate question—unless, of course, you’re God and know exactly what people need to hear.
“Do you want to get well?” (v. 6) Jesus said to this poor man, his gnarled and lifeless legs tucked under his body.
“How rude. How thoughtless. Do I want to get well? Don’t be ridiculous,” the man could have shouted. “Of course, I want to be healed! I thought you said this place was called ‘kindness.’”
But stop and think about this, Mr. Disabled Man. If you get healed, you’re going to have to get a job. You’re not going to be able to live off others’ benevolence and pity any longer. You’re going to have to finish your life without any more excuses.
Hmmm, the man may have thought, maybe getting healed isn’t such a good idea. In fact, when Jesus asked him this perceptive question, the man didn’t say, “Yes, sir, of course I want to be healed.” Instead he asserted that he had no one to help him get to the water when it stirred. This had been his story for thirty-eight years, and he was sticking to it.
Do you have a disabling condition? Did someone wrong you, hurt you, defame you, slander you, or rob you? Has this injustice held you back? And has this story become your lifelong excuse? Are you ready for Jesus’s brand of kindness?
Look up. Jesus is leaning over your “sickbed,” and He has a question for you. Ready? “Do you want to get well?” Are you willing to face life without the unique ability to blame someone—or something—for the way you are? Are you ready for God’s perfect kindness?
You are? OK then. “Get up, . . . pick up your mat and walk” (v. 9).