Reaching the waters of healing

Thumbnail image by franchise opportunities on Flickr, used under Attribution-ShareAlike: https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0/

Clare L. Hickman

St. Luke’s Episcopal Church, Ferndale

May 25, 2025—Easter 6C

John 5:1-9

 

          If you’ve ever worried whether you could possibly deserve a miracle, deserve to be healed, this is your bible story! Because this is quite definitely NOT one of the stories in which Jesus proclaims, “Your faith has made you well.” Because this guy … man, this guy is a real piece of work.

          First, Jesus sees him, and is moved to go up to him and ask, “Do you want to be made well?” And instead of just saying “Yes,” the man starts complaining that there’s no one there to help put him in the healing waters, and when he tries to do it himself, other people step in front of him and get in there first. We might well have taken that as a cue to walk away, but maybe Jesus recognizes that decades of pain and immobility have left the man not at his best. So he says, “Stand up, take your mat and walk.” (John 5:3-8)

          Sadly, this doesn’t bring about an immediate transformation of the man’s character. Next thing we know, he’s confronted by the religious authorities, who chastise him for carrying his mat on the sabbath. And surely, this is his chance to testify to the power and grace of God. But instead, he deflects blame onto the man who healed him, whose name he apparently didn’t stop to get (but as soon as he does learn it, he runs back to the authorities to rat Jesus out) (John 5:10-15).

          Which just goes to show that even a conspicuous lack of faith and virtue cannot outweigh the power of Jesus as a bringer of health and wholeness. It is the essence of who he is, and as such, it is the very nature of God: to heal, regardless of deserving or undeserving, and regardless of what official barriers might stand in the way.

          So there is life to be found in this story, if we put ourselves in the place of the not so admirable man who’s healed by Jesus. But with stories involving Jesus, as with Lays potato chips, you can never stop at just one. So let’s take a look at some of the other folks in the story.

          I was struck, as I read it, by the words the man says when Jesus asks if he wants to be well. “I have no-one to help me into the pool … and when I try, someone else steps down ahead of me.” And I’ll admit that I’m predisposed to hear this as whining and making excuses. Because I sometimes whine and make excuses for myself, and I certainly see OTHER PEOPLE whining and making excuses.

          But what if we take his statement seriously?

          What if he knows that there is healing available, that his suffering can be ended, and he could once again become an active part of the community … but the people who could help him, just … aren’t? And what if he is still trying his best, all on his own, but there are others with more strength, more capacity, who are stepping in front of him and blocking his access?

          Who are these people? How does this happen? Where do we see this in the world around us, that people are trying to get access to the healing available, and they just need a little help, but they aren’t getting it, so they’re trying to do it anyway, and there are folks who are stepping in to block their way and keep it to themselves? When do we see it in ourselves?

          When I was looking for a picture to put on the cover of the bulletin, I wanted an image of a group of wounded, sick people. What came up was this image of makeshift medical treatment in Gaza. Where so many hospitals have been destroyed, and prohibitions on travel beyond Gaza make it impossible for people who need treatment to reach that treatment. As happens to people in war zones across the world, but even more critically where there are armed borders and limitations: people want to get to the pool, but they cannot reach the pool. Local hospitals have been destroyed. Routes to surviving hospitals are too perilous. Noone will help them, and there are people blocking the way.

          And it makes me wonder: who are those who could help lift them into the healing waters, but do not? Who is it that actively steps in to stand in the way?

          War is always terrible and complicated. Situations and strategies on all sides stand between the sick and wounded and the care they need. Armies are in the way. Destruction is in the way. But in the case of Gaza, as Israel’s most powerful supporter, the U.S. might well have the ability to help get the wounded into the pool. Instead, in many ways, we are choosing to stand by. As the voters whom the decision-makers represent, what is our role in that? What could we be doing, that we perhaps are not?

          People long to reach the healing they need. God, as we’ve seen, longs for them to be healed. But sometimes there are massive barriers in the way. As the Body of Christ in this world, our question must always be: how can we help? How can we get things out of the way? How can we embody the presence and power of Jesus in this situation?

          In our own country, the barrier to healing is not war and destruction, but economics. At a level that far surpasses any comparable nation, we have a population that cannot afford the medical care they need. They can see the pool, but they can’t get there. Insurance is tied to employment, and still costs money, and doesn’t pay for everything. Far too often, it refuses to pay for anything, unless you are willing to spend hours on the phone arguing.

           Insurance companies aren’t always helping, and sometimes are standing directly in the way. Hospitals, billing departments, lobbyists, lawmakers. All of them have the chance to help. All of them can choose to stand in the way.

As the Body of Christ in this world, how can we help? How can we get things out of the way? How can we embody the presence and power of Jesus in this situation?

People long for the healing they need, but even at an individual level, they can erect their own barriers. I’ve known more than one person who resisted going to the doctor, because they didn’t want their fears confirmed. So they put it off, and made healing so much harder. Or their pride stood in the way (“I’ve never had to go to the hospital, and I’m not going to start now!”), as though their denial was actually protecting their perfect record of health.

The healing is there, but their fear jumps in front of them, their pride blocks their path. And those who wish to assist them have a challenging road ahead.

How can we help lessen their anxieties? How can we work to loosen the grip of our societal obsession with self-reliance? How can we, in fact, embody the presence and power of Jesus in this situation, in all of these situations? His power is here still, alive in the world. But it is our hands, our hearts, our work that is needed to remove the obstacles, and allow that power to reach the places of need. To heal the wounded. To repair the world.

Let us not neglect to do what we can do. May it be so, Amen.

Clare Hickman