Accept the ecstasy
There is in Jerusalem at the Sheep Gate a pool called in Hebrew Bethesda, with five porticoes. In these lay a large number of ill, blind, lame, and crippled.
– From John 5
How many times must I be told? We’re all in this together. Death comes even for the archbishop.
There is a significant mistake in how we use the old saying, “There but for the grace of God go I.” Because the “grace of God” is not only about the food on my plate, my health or finding my parking place in life. The grace of God thrives in the midst of poverty and suffering, right in the center of our cancer cells. God sits with us at all times beside the Sheep Gate pool.
How easy it is, then, to imagine myself into the story.
The rough stones of the portico floor rub against my legs. Nearby some folks are moaning with their awful pain. I realize how important this community is to my friend, who has been here nearly all his life. These are his companions. Twice a day good people bring them food, but never much. Because I am visiting him, he shares his with me. Bread. A bite of dried fish.
I am far older than my friend, and my joints are stiff. Springtime pollen dries up my eyes, and I want to close them. But perhaps the spirit will roil the waters, and so I keep them open. I remember Ezekiel’s vision and God’s promise: “Wherever this water comes the sea shall be made fresh.” I have come to help my friend get into the pool. He has suffered for so long. But now, a rustle of whisperings, and Jesus comes.
Walking through the Sheep Gate he sees us sitting in the shade. He comes and asks us such a simple thing. “Do you want the healing I can give?”
My friend begins to tell his story, but Jesus cuts him off. “Take up your mat and walk,” and by God, he stands, he rocks a bit, and walks! His muscles seem to strengthen on their own. Jesus’ friends smile. Jesus laughs. My friend is overtaken, thunderstruck. He jumps a little, jumps for joy. Then Jesus looks at me.
“And you?”
Jesus’ gaze undoes my soul, as he puts himself into MY story. “How about you? Do you want the healing I can give?” But Lord, what healing do I need? My joints? My eyes?
“No. Hear me now: in his suffering, your friend has given up control. You have not. You cannot. Do you want to? Do you want the healing I can give?”
After 38 years my friend was completely at home with his disability. It had become who he was. But I’ve had longer to become attached to who I am. I’ve grown so accustomed to how I live, what I have, how I think, who I look up to, and who looks up to me. Jesus’ words challenge everything. For a moment, I can see myself as he sees me.
On my answer hangs my life.
Oh let me say, “Yes,” O Lord. Let me say yes! I want to fall into the holy stream of heaven. You are in its midst, you will hold me at the break of dawn. Wash me, O Lord, and I will be clean.
http://www.davesandel.net/category/lent-easter-devotions-2019/
http://www.christiancounselingservice.com/archived_devotions.php?article_id=1778
