Found Twice | Sunday, August 9, 2026
August 9, 2026 · Pastor Miles DeBenedictis
In this teaching
In John 5, Jesus heals a man who had been an invalid for 38 years at the pool of Bethesda, seeking him out twice—first to heal his body and later to make him whole. The teaching shows how we can fixate on "the moving of the water" and miss Christ, how his commands carry the power to fulfill them, and how his overflowing grace is meant to flow through us to others.
- You can spend much of your life watching the water and miss Christ and his mercies.
- The commands of Christ carry the power to perform them; our part is faith.
- God's grace and mercy abound and overflow to the gracious and the merciful.
- God's grace never leaves us where it found us—Jesus wants us made whole, not merely healed of the immediate issue.
- Jesus came to seek and save the lost, and he still seeks out people who never sought him first.
- Those who receive God's grace cannot help but share it with others.
Readable is a lightly edited reading copy; Verbatim stays close to the spoken words. The audio and video are the record of what was said.
After this there was a feast of the Jews, and Jesus went up to Jerusalem. Now there is in Jerusalem by the Sheep Gate a pool, which is called in Hebrew, Bethesda, having five porches. In these lay a great multitude of sick people, blind, lame, paralyzed, waiting for the moving of the water. For an angel went down at a certain time into the pool and stirred up the water; then whoever stepped in first, after the stirring of the water, was made well of whatever disease he had. Now a certain man was there who had an infirmity thirty-eight years. When Jesus saw him lying there, and knew that he already had been in that condition a long time, He said to him, "Do you want to be made well?" ()
A man had waited thirty-eight years for the water to move—but Jesus came looking for him instead.
Why the Gospel of John Matters
We are in our tenth week of our summer series, Fly on the Wall, again in the Gospel of John. I would go so far as to say John is one of the most important books of the New Testament—not more inspired than Ephesians, but important in so many ways. For many of you, it was one of the first books you were encouraged to read as a new believer, and we still tell new followers of God to start here. It is a great summary of the life and ministry of Jesus, just as Matthew, Mark, and Luke are.
But John is different from the synoptic gospels. It was written for a distinct purpose, which John states plainly at the end:
Truly Jesus did many other signs in the presence of His disciples that are not written in this book; but these are written that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that believing you may have life in His name. ()
The Hebrew word Messiah and the Greek word Christos mean the same thing. John writes so that you might believe Jesus is the Messiah, God incarnate, and that believing you may have life in His name. Ten chapters earlier Jesus said, "I have come that they may have life, and that they may have it more abundantly." There is not a single person alive who does not want life more abundantly, and John says you can come to know and experience it.
Conversations We Can See Ourselves In
This series was inspired by John because the Gospel lets us eavesdrop on private conversations Jesus has with individuals. In nearly every chapter there is an interaction where we can see ourselves.
In , Jesus speaks with Nicodemus, the man who did everything right—the goodie two-shoes who followed all the rules and assumed that because he had done the right things, he was therefore righteous. Yet Jesus says something is missing: "You must be born again." The church is full of people who have done all the right things, but some are trusting more in their own righteousness than in the One who has finished the work. That word believe is not merely a mental acknowledgment; it is a trust that entrusts yourself to Christ as Savior and Lord. Doing good things is not bad—but it is not the thing that makes you righteous. Only Christ makes us righteous.
Last week we met the woman at the well, whose life had not worked out the way she expected—isolated, alone, dissatisfied, and searching for something to meet the deep need of her soul. Or the man born blind in , born into the worst possible situation, unable to see any bright future. With each of these people, someone in this room can identify. That is exactly what we see today.
The Good Shepherd Comes Through the Sheep Gate
Last week Jesus was in Samaria, about thirty miles north of Jerusalem. Now in chapter 5 He returns to Jerusalem for one of the feasts of the Jews. Faithful Israelites went up to Jerusalem three times a year to celebrate feasts like Passover, Pentecost, and Tabernacles.
In Samaria, Jesus was on a seek-and-save-the-lost mission, the Good Shepherd leaving the ninety-nine to go after the one. It is fitting that here He comes to the pool by the Sheep Gate—the Good Shepherd going through the sheep gate, seeking to save that which is lost. That is the core of His mission. Jesus was not on a political revolutionary tour. He healed the sick and fed the poor, but those were byproducts. His primary ministry was to seek and to save that which is lost—2,000 years ago and today.
Do you know anybody who is lost? God wants to reach that person. And the scary part: He may want to use you to be part of that.
The House of Mercy
Bethesda means "house of mercy," "house of kindness," "house of goodness." It functioned like a first-century hospital, which is why hospitals today still carry that name. You can visit the ruins in Jerusalem, beside the twelfth-century church of St. Anne with its remarkable acoustics that make even bad singers sound good.
At this pool a great multitude of sick people—blind, lame, paralyzed—were waiting for the moving of the water. As a side note, if you want to dig deep, study the concept of water throughout John; it surfaces in nearly every chapter. Last week an outcast woman sought water at a well; here an outcast lame man waits for the moving of the water.
—an angel stirring the water so the first one in was healed—is a contested verse; it does not appear in some of the oldest manuscripts, and your Bible may note this. But there is good reason to believe it belongs, especially given the context. Why else would multitudes gather to watch the water?
A Place of Hope and Hopelessness
Picture this scene. All these people, lame and paralyzed and maimed, fixed on the water—and the moment it moved, a mad dash for the pool. Only the first one in was healed. So you can be certain there were sick people pushing and even punching each other to get in first. It is a bit twisted when you consider it.
But consider both the hope and the hopelessness of the place. People came because this was the last possible place they might be healed. They had been let down by physicians, priests, and friends. Yet the water moved only occasionally, and only the first person in got healed, so multitudes piled up and never received what they hoped for.
Now a certain man was there who had an infirmity thirty-eight years. ()
Thirty-eight years of chronic illness. Some of you can wrap your minds around that. He had been there long enough to watch others—maybe dozens, maybe hundreds—receive the healing he never got.
"Do You Want to Be Made Well?"
Let us be honest: there is a way to read Jesus' question that sounds almost insincere. Do you want to be made well? Why else would the man be there? If you had waited year after year, watching others get in ahead of you, and a stranger asked you that, you might snap back, "Do you think I like it here?" The lepers keep leaving body parts; someone puked on me the other day. Every word may have felt like a punch to the gut.
The sick man answered Him, "Sir, I have no man to put me into the pool when the water is stirred up; but while I am coming, another steps down before me." ()
Feel the weight: I have no one. In , the woman assumed Jesus' limitations—"the well is deep and You have nothing to draw with." This man focuses on his own limitations—"I have no one to help me." Every person lines up somewhere between those two: either Jesus doesn't have the power, or I don't have the power. This man was stuck, alone, with no help. Everyone else found what they were looking for; everyone else had someone to rely on—but not him.
Watching the Water, Missing the Messiah
This scene has stayed with me since I first taught John in 2006, because of two seven-word statements. First: waiting for the moving of the water. Second: do you want to be made well?
Every person in this room is waiting for something—the thing you think about more than anything else. Waiting for that person to make a move, for that promotion, for that thing to shake loose, convinced that if just this would happen, everything would be okay. We get tunnel vision. I suspect this man never even acknowledged who was speaking to him, because later he does not know who healed him. He was so locked in on the water that he missed the man beside him.
And here is the striking thing: while multitudes fixed their eyes on the water, Jesus was healing multitudes throughout Galilee and Judea. They were so focused they could not break loose to see Him. As Charles Spurgeon wrote:
There they were, and there was Christ who could heal them, but not a single one of them sought Him. Their eyes were fixed on the water, expecting it to be troubled. They were so taken up with their own chosen way that the true way was neglected. No mercies were distributed, for none were sought.
Point one: you can spend much of your life watching the water and miss Christ and His mercies. They were in the house of mercy, but missing the source of mercy—the Messiah, abundant in mercy, doing what He does best: seeking the lost.
Rise, Take Up Your Bed, and Walk
Jesus said to him, "Rise, take up your bed and walk." ()
Notice the triple command—three imperatives. Imagine the audacity: telling a man paralyzed for decades to get up. It seems impossible. Yet Jesus does this constantly. He told a man with a withered hand to stretch it out, Peter to walk on water, a deaf man's ears to open, a blind man to see, Jairus's dead daughter to rise, dead Lazarus to come forth. He has commanded you and me to preach the gospel to every creature and make disciples of all nations. Every command seems impossible—and in us, by our own power, it is. But Luke reminds us that "the things which are impossible with men are possible with God."
Point two: the commands of Christ carry the power to perform them. With His command comes the enabling power. So what is required of us? Faith—the willingness to step forward and trust He will show up. Is there anything in your life you feel powerless to do, yet sense you are supposed to do? You keep talking yourself out of it. But if you step forward, you may find the power to perform is there.
I will never forget when Pastor Tony asked me in January 1999 to teach the junior high ministry. I was just the tech guy—I'd like to think I still am. In my mind I thought, No, no, no, I can't do that. My earlier Bible studies had fallen flat. But I took a step of faith. And the awesome thing that happens when you are convinced you cannot do something is that you rely far more on God than on your own power.
And immediately the man was made well, took up his bed, and walked. And that day was the Sabbath. ()
The Religious Miss the Miracle
The Jews therefore said to him who was cured, "It is the Sabbath; it is not lawful for you to carry your bed." ()
For us twenty-first-century Gentiles this seems like nothing, but for a first-century Jew, carrying a burden on the Sabbath was serious. It is devastating and revealing: the religious leaders were more concerned about a Sabbath infraction than amazed that a man ill for decades was now walking. Instead of rejoicing in the miracle, they sought to issue a citation.
He answered them, "He who made me well said to me, 'Take up your bed and walk.'" ()
Their concern was the Sabbath; his concern was the One who made him well. He could not even name the man, and he did not know the law well enough to argue. But he held to the one thing that mattered: the man who made me well told me to do this.
Then they asked him, "Who is the Man who said to you, 'Take up your bed and walk'?" ()
I try to give the Pharisees the benefit of the doubt—you have to commend their commitment—but they shift from citing the man to hunting down the suspect. A man is raised up after thirty-eight years, and they run off to find whoever committed the carrying violation.
This surfaces a challenging truth: when Jesus radically transforms lives, it is often the religious people who are not the champions of the change. Too frequently the long-termers make it harder, not easier, on those being transformed. I have seen people set free from drugs, alcohol, gambling, or pornography, and then someone gets upset that they do not yet have perfect theology or do not know "how we do things around here." But two weeks ago they were loaded and high, and now they sit in their right mind. Can we not rejoice that God is working?
Grace Upon Grace
Jesus is full of grace and truth, and He extends grace upon grace. James says, "He gives more grace... to the humble, but resists the proud." Sadly, His people often do the opposite.
Point three: God's grace and mercy abound and overflow to the gracious and the merciful. In the Sermon on the Mount Jesus said, "Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy." What should we do with the grace and mercy God has given us? Not hoard it—give it away. When you give grace and mercy to others, God gives more to you.
Sometimes we say, "I'm not giving them mercy; they don't deserve it." Did you deserve mercy? No. If you don't know who to give it to, here is a good indication: think of the person who ticks you off. That person—maybe sitting next to you—is the one who needs your mercy and grace. You cannot outgive God.
Afterward, Jesus Found Him
The one who was healed did not know who it was, for Jesus had withdrawn, a multitude being in that place. ()
He was so focused on the water he never learned who spoke to him. But that is not the whole story.
Afterward Jesus found him in the temple, and said to him, "See, you have been made well. Sin no more, lest a worse thing come upon you." ()
Jesus sought him out at the pool when he was desperate, and now He finds him again. This man never sought the Lord once, yet Jesus came looking for him. And notice where: in the temple. For decades Jewish law had barred him from the temple because of his illness. Now the first place he goes—I like to think—is to praise God for his healing.
Be careful how you read Jesus' words. In , when the disciples asked whether the man born blind sinned or his parents, Jesus said that is not how it works. Yet here it seems implied that this man's infirmity may have come as a consequence of something in his past. His acute problem—the biggest problem of his life for thirty-eight years—is now gone. But Jesus says there is a bigger problem: "Sin no more, lest a worse thing come upon you." He says the same to the woman taken in adultery in . Your illness is gone, but sin remains the greater issue.
God's mercy abounds to the gracious and the merciful, but it also falls to sinners who fall short. We must not take that for granted. As Paul says in , "Shall we sin that grace may abound? Certainly not. How shall we who died to sin live any longer in it?"
Grace That Makes Us Whole
Why did Jesus seek this man a second time? Point four: God's grace never leaves us where it found us. He did not want the man merely healed of his illness; He wanted him made whole. That is true for you and me. God is not content to deal only with the acute issue of the moment—He wants to transform everything and make us whole.
And what was the man's response? Much like the woman at the well who called her town to come and see:
The man departed and told the Jews that it was Jesus who had made him well. ()
Those who receive God's grace cannot help but share it. He told them: Jesus is the one who made me well. The religious leaders responded poorly—the next verse says they persecuted Jesus and sought to kill Him because He did these things on the Sabbath. But the man did the right thing. He proclaimed it abroad.
That is your task and mine—as Peter says, to "proclaim the praises of Him who called you out of darkness into His marvelous light." You are a chosen generation, a royal priesthood, God's own special people. This week, go and be gracious and merciful—especially to the people who make you angry. And you will probably run into one of them within the next three hours.
Closing Prayer
God, thank You for Your word. It is challenging and living and powerful, sharper than any two-edged sword. By it You reveal the deep recesses of our heart, but by it also You transform us. I pray You would continue to transform us. Make us more like You. Help us to respond and react more like You—with Your grace and with Your mercy—extending it to other people, because we live in a place in desperate need of Your grace and mercy, and You have sent us to be ambassadors of it here in this place. We praise You in Jesus' name. Amen.
Amen. Praise the Lord. Thanks, Anthony and team. Good morning! It's good to see you all. You can have a seat. I am so glad you're here with us this morning.
Today, we are in the Scriptures for the tenth week of our summer series called "Fly on the Wall." You can take out your Bible, as we will be in the Gospel of John this morning, just as we were last week. I love that line in the bridge of the song we just sang: "All our hope is in You." It's a good reminder that our hope is in God.
I am reminded of David in the Psalms, where he speaks to his own soul, saying, "Hope in God." Sometimes, you have to talk to yourself and remind yourself to hope in God. I think we will see something along those lines in the text we are examining today.
As I've shared in the last several weeks while we've been in this Gospel for this series, I believe it is such an important book. I would go so far as to say that it is one of the most important books of the Bible, especially in the New Testament. In saying that, I am not claiming it is more important as a piece of Scripture or inspiration than, say, the book of Ephesians. However, it is significant in many ways. For many of you this morning, when you first became a Christian, one of the first books you were encouraged to read was the Gospel of John. It is frequently one of the first books we recommend to new Christians and new followers of God.
There is such great teaching, instruction, and revelation in this portion of Scripture. It serves as a great summary of the life and ministry of Jesus, just as Matthew, Mark, and Luke do. However, Matthew, Mark, and Luke are different. Those are called the synoptic Gospels, as they provide a synopsis of Christ's ministry, following basically the same outline. John, on the other hand, is distinct and was written for a very specific purpose.
John tells us exactly what that purpose is at the end of the book in . He writes, "Truly Jesus did many other signs in the presence of his disciples that are not written in this book, but these are written that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God." We just sang that song, "Jesus Messiah." The Hebrew word translated as "Messiah" is the same Greek word, "Christos," or "Christ."
So, John says, "I have written these things down that you might believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Messiah. He is the Son of God, God incarnate. And that believing, you may have life in His name."
When Jesus talks about life in John, ten chapters before this in , he says, "The thief has come to steal, to kill, and to destroy, but I have come that you may have life and that you may have it more abundantly." I don't think there's a single person alive today who does not want life more abundantly. John says that this is something you can come to know. You can comprehend and experience it. These things are written that you might believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that by believing, you may have life in His name.
As I've shared a number of times over the last several weeks while we've been returning to the Gospel of John in this series, this series was inspired by the Gospel of John. John gives us the opportunity to eavesdrop on the private conversations that Jesus has with a number of different people. Throughout the Gospel, nearly every single chapter features one of these interactions where Jesus is having a conversation with an individual. In these conversations, we can see ourselves; we can identify with the people that Jesus is speaking with.
For example, in , which we examined a number of weeks ago, Jesus has a conversation with Nicodemus. Nicodemus was a person who did everything right. For lack of a better way of saying it, he was the goodie two shoes. He followed all the rules, kept all the laws, and checked off all the boxes. He did everything the way he was supposed to. Because of that, he assumed that since he had done the right things, he was therefore righteous, which is often the case. Yet, in his interaction with Nicodemus, Jesus says, "Well, there is something that's missing. You must be born again."
This realization is important for us because the church is full of people who have done all the right things. Hopefully, they are in a right place with God, but some of them aren't because they are trusting more in their own righteousness and their own actions than in the one who has finished the work. The theme verse states that these things are written that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that by believing, you may have life in His name. That word "believe" is not just a mental acknowledgment, like saying, "Okay, I acknowledge that Jesus is the Christ, the Messiah." No, it is a trust in Him as Christ, as Savior, as Lord; it is about entrusting ourselves to Him. From the conversation that Jesus has with Nicodemus in , it is clear that this trust is essential.
He had not come to that point yet. There are some people in the church today who can identify with Nicodemus. He did all the right things, and you assume that's what makes you good and righteous. You're still checking off the boxes. Jesus would say to you today, "You must be born again. You must trust in the finished work of Christ and entrust yourself to Him."
That's not to say that doing good things and the right things is a bad thing; it's not. But it's not the thing that will make you righteous. Only Christ makes us righteous.
Last week, we saw the story of the woman at the well. Some of you can identify with her because life for her had just not worked out the way she had expected. I know there are some people here today for whom that is the case. Life has just not worked out as you thought it would. You are not where you thought you'd be at this point, at this stage of life. You may feel isolated, alone, dissatisfied, and are trying to find something that would meet the deep need of your soul. That's exactly what that woman was like.
Consider the man born blind in . We won't get to that passage in this series, but he was born into the worst possible situation—born in darkness and never having seen the light, practically speaking. He could not see a bright future; he could not see anything changing because he just could not see at all. There are certainly people like that today.
With each of these stories, I think we can find individuals in this room even at this very moment who identify with them. That's exactly what we're going to see today in . If you have your Bible, open it up to the Gospel of John. Turn to the last third of your Bible. Find Matthew, Mark, Luke, John, and then .
If you would stand with me, we will put it on the screen, but I think it's really good and valuable to have the text of Scripture in your hand so you can see and fact-check me on the spot. Make sure I'm not leading you astray. Be a good Berean, as we see in the book of Acts.
says, "After this, there was a feast of the Jews, and Jesus went up to Jerusalem. Now there was in Jerusalem by the Sheep Gate a pool which is called in Hebrew Bethesda, having five porches. In these lay a great multitude of sick people—blind, lame, paralyzed—waiting for the moving of the water. For an angel went down at a certain time into the pool and stirred up the water."
And then whoever stepped in first after the stirring of the water was made well of whatever disease he had. Now a certain man was there who had an infirmity for 38 years. When Jesus saw him lying there and knew that he had already been in that condition for a long time, he said to him, "Do you want to be made well?"
God, I pray as we think on these things today, as we open the Scriptures, would you open our hearts, our ears, and our minds? Lord, I ask that you would reveal yourself to us in the pages of Scripture today, Jesus, that we would see you and come to know you more fully, perhaps in a way that we hadn't known you before. It is good to know things about you, but we desire to come into a deeper relationship with you. You said this is eternal life, that we might know Him, the only true God, and you, Jesus, who came to this world. So God, I pray that we would get to know you more fully. Reveal yourself to us. Continue that merciful, gracious, and good work that you are doing in each of us, transforming us more and more into the likeness of your children. We ask this in Jesus' name. And all those that agreed said, "Amen." You could be seated.
Last week, we were in , and Jesus was in a town or just outside of a town called Sychar in a region called Samaria, which is about 30 miles north of Jerusalem. Now, in chapter 5, we see that he is back in Jerusalem. We are told in the opening words of this passage that he was there for one of the feasts of the Jews. The children of Israel in the first century, if you were faithful to your faith, would go to Jerusalem three times a year during three different seasons: in the spring, in the summer, and in the fall, to celebrate feasts like Passover, Pentecost, and Tabernacles. All of those feasts are listed in the book of Leviticus.
So, Jesus now comes back to Jerusalem for one of the feasts of the Jews. Previously, when he was in Samaria, I mentioned last week, if you were here, that he was on one of those missions to seek and save the lost because he is the Good Shepherd, as the Scriptures reveal in . He leaves the 99 to go after that one lost sheep.
Sheep in Samaria. It’s fitting, I think, that we read here in these opening words that He came to Jerusalem, and it says that He goes to this pool. It’s by the sheep gate. We would assume that He even goes through the sheep gate. The Good Shepherd goes through the sheep gate because, again, He is seeking to save that which is lost. That’s one of the core focuses of His mission. That’s exactly what He says in the theme verse of the Gospel of Luke: "The Son of Man has come to seek and to save that which is lost."
I think sometimes we need to remind ourselves that Jesus was not on some political revolutionary tour. He was not simply here to heal the sick, though He did that. He was not here just to feed the poor, though He did that as well. He did all those things, but that wasn’t the focus of why He was here. Those were just byproducts of His primary ministry. His primary ministry was to seek and to save that which is lost—2,000 years ago and today. Keep that in mind. What is Christ doing today? He’s still seeking and saving that which is lost.
Let me ask you, do you know anybody who’s lost? Anybody? You might know someone. Do you realize that God wants to reach that person? Now, the scary thing—maybe we’ll talk about this later—He might want to use you to be a part of that. But just be prepared. He has come to seek and to save that which is lost.
So, He goes through the sheep gate and comes to this pool called Bethesda. Bethesda means "house of." That’s the word "Beth" in Hebrew: house of mercy, house of kindness, house of goodness. Here at this place called the house of goodness, the house of mercy, there is a whole bunch of sick people, as we see in this text. It’s fitting that, obviously still today, this place was like a hospital in the first century. We still have hospitals that are called Bethesda because it represents this house of goodness, house of mercy, house of kindness.
Now, it’s interesting. You can go to the ruins of the pool of Bethesda today in Jerusalem if you ever happen to be there. There’s an old Catholic church from the 12th century called the Church of St. Anne. Every tour group that goes there sees the ruins of the pools of Bethesda, and they often go into that church, which has incredible acoustics that can make even bad singers sound good. So, there are a whole bunch of bad singers that go in there and sing, "Oh, I sound so great." It really does sound good. In the first century, they had this pool there, and there’s...
This fable that we read about in this passage had the power, apparently, to make people who were in a bad condition good—those who were sick became well. Because of this fable, a great multitude of sick people—blind, lame, paralyzed—were there waiting for the moving of the water.
As a side note, and we won't have time to get into this today, if you're a student of the Bible and would like to dig deep into the Scriptures, I encourage you to consider doing a study on the repetition of the word "water" or just the idea, the concept of water, and what it means in the Gospel of John. It shows up quite a bit in nearly every chapter; it just keeps coming to the surface. Last week, when we were in , the woman came out to the well outside of Sychar to draw water. Here, once again, we see that outcast woman seeking water.
Now, we have this outcast lame man who is waiting for the moving of the water here at Bethesda. Why are all these people—a great multitude of sick people—waiting for the moving of the water? John gives us a verse that I must let you know is a contested verse among Bible scholars. It is contested because this was written based on Greek manuscripts of the Gospel of John, and in some of the oldest manuscripts, this verse does not appear, while it shows up in others. You might even see a note in your Bible indicating that this is omitted in some passages of Scripture.
Verse four states that an angel went down at a certain time into the pool and stirred up the water, and then whoever stepped in first after the stirring of the water was made well of whatever disease he had. I think there is good reason to believe that this verse was included, especially based on the context. Why else would there be multitudes of people watching for the moving of the water if there were not some reason they were looking for this?
This idea in verse four adds some interesting layers to the story. First, talk about a challenging place to be. As I mentioned, it was a hospital, if you will, in the first century. There are several places where you can visit the ruins today of various locations that were like this, where there were either baths or springs, or where there was thought to be some sort of spiritual power. Many sick people would congregate in these places. This was one of those places.
It's somewhat similar to today. How many of you have ever been to Sedona?
People go there because it's like the vortex in Sedona. There are places like that in the ancient world where you can visit these sites, and this was believed to be one of those places with some sort of spiritual power. It was just outside of the temple precincts, about as close as you could get to the temple in Jerusalem, just to the north of the temple where all these people would gather together.
It was something like a hospice or a hospital where all these people who were sick and dying came. In one corner, there might be a congregation of lepers, while in another, there were paralytics. There were people who had some sort of affliction, perhaps even those possessed by demons. All kinds of individuals in the worst possible condition were brought there, remaining in hope. We sang the song today, "All our hope is in You." For these people, all their hope was in the water.
Not only was this like a hospital, but it was also a place of hope. People came there because it was the last possible place where they might be healed of whatever affliction they had. They had tried everything else and had been let down by physicians, doctors, and priests who prayed for them, as well as friends who had been with them all along. Now they came to this place, the last possible place where maybe, just maybe, they might get healed.
Clearly, some people were healed; otherwise, there wouldn't have been so many individuals there. If no one ever got healed, no one would have come. But something happened there that drew people in. Do we really think that an angel went down from time to time to stir up the water? I don't know if that's what happened, but something occurred to make it a place of gathering.
Just picture for a moment the strangeness of this scene. You have all these people who are lame, paralyzed, maimed, and sick, all in pitiful condition. What are they doing? They are watching the water, waiting for it to move. And when it did, what do you think happened? There would be a mad dash for the pool. This must have been quite a scene. You can imagine some people were there with their friends or family members, saying, "I'm bringing you here to the pool because you're going to get healed."
You've got your paralyzed brother. It's like I saw the water move, and I'm throwing my paralyzed brother into the pool, just hoping that he's the first one. I mean, it's kind of a twisted scene. I know sometimes I look at the Scriptures in a twisted way, but consider the scene for a moment. The water moves, and now you have this mad dash for the pool. Everybody is trying to get there, pushing each other out of the way, punching each other because they have to get there first. It's like a competition to see who gets to the water before anyone else, because only the first one in gets healed. That's what the passage tells us.
The odds are not good that you're going to get healed. A great multitude of sick people are there, and only the first one in gets healed when the water moves. So, you have to wait for the water to move, and then you have to be the first one there. You can be certain there were sick people punching each other to get into the pool. If that's not a little bit twisted, I don't know what is.
But consider not just the hope of this place; consider the hopelessness of it as well. This man, we're told, has been there for a long time. In , it says, "A certain man was there who had an infirmity for 38 years." Try to wrap your mind around that chronic illness. Some of you can, because you've been there for 38 years. Jesus saw him lying there, and He knew that he had already been in this condition for a long time.
People are there because of hope, but a lot of the people that were there in hope were rather hopeless. Only occasionally would the water be stirred, and then, on the off chance that the water would move, only the first person in would get healed. This means a great multitude of people would just pile up and pile up, and many of them never got what they were hoping for, never got what they were looking for. It was a place of great hopelessness—a great multitude of sick people waiting for the moving of the water.
This man has been there for 38 years. Well, maybe he hasn't been there for 38 years, but he's definitely been there for a long time because Jesus noted that he had been there for a long time. He's been there long enough to have seen other people receive the healing that he has not received. Maybe dozens, maybe even hundreds of times, he's seen people leave that place. Well, and Jesus asks him a question.
Can we just be very honest here? Jesus's answer raises an interesting point. There's a way in which you can read Jesus's question that sounds rather insincere: "Do you want to be made well?" Why else do you think that man was there? Why else do you think every single person was there?
If you had been there year after year and had seen other people who came in after you get in before you and leave whole, do you not think that if some guy came to you and randomly asked, "So, do you want to be made well?" you might respond, "Do you think I like it here?" I mean, over there is a group of lepers who keep leaving body parts. This guy over here is kind of rotting away and he stinks. That guy over there puked on me the other day. Do you think I want to be here? I actually would much rather not be here, but I've been waiting for years. Why else would I be here if I did not want to be made well? But I have no hope. I have no way out. I've been lying next to the rumor that I could possibly be healed for four decades.
I think that maybe every one of Jesus's words, "Do you want to be made well?" felt like a punch to the gut. To which the man answers in , "Sir, I have no man to put me into the pool when the water is stirred up, but while I'm coming, another steps down before me." Just feel the weight of those words: "I have no one."
In , Jesus had a conversation with the woman at the well. He said to her, "If you knew the gift of God and who it was who speaks to you, you would ask of him, and he would have given you living water." Immediately, she responded, "Sir, you have nothing to draw with, and the well is deep." She assumed his limitations. This man, conversely, focuses on his own limitations. I think that every single person kind of lines up between one of those two categories.
The power or I don't have the power; one or the other. Most of us find ourselves somewhere in that place. She looked at Jesus's limitations, saying, "The well is deep. You have nothing to draw with. You can't help me." This man looked at his own limitations and said, "Sir, I have no one to help me." I hear in his response something like this: "Hey, listen. Maybe you should not be asking me dumb rhetorical questions. Maybe you could help me get into the water because, sir, I have no one to help me."
Maybe you can identify with this man, perhaps more so than Nicodemus, the hyper-religious Pharisee, or the woman at the well. This guy was stuck. He was alone. He had no help. Everyone else had found what they were looking for, but not him. Everyone else had someone they could rely upon for help, but not him. "I have no one to help me." Everybody gets ahead of me. Everybody makes it but me.
This whole scene in has stuck with me for a long time. I can remember the first time I really sat with it and thought about it. I was asked to teach the Gospel of John back in the early part of 2006 at an extension campus of Calvary Chapel Bible College in Costa Mesa. I remember really sitting with this passage because of two things that come out: two seven-word statements in this passage. The first one is, "They were waiting for the moving of the water." The second one is, "Do you want to be made well?"
When I was thinking about that years ago and reflecting on it again this last week, I believe that every single person in this room today is waiting for something. It’s the thing that you think about more than any other thing; it comes to your mind constantly. We can get so zeroed in on those things, like this man was, and like all the other people around the pool of Bethesda. From every corner of this pool, everybody was watching and waiting for one thing: they were waiting for the moving of the water. And that's you today. You're waiting for that thing that you've been thinking about, praying about, and hoping for to change. You're waiting for that person to...
Make this move. Waiting for that review, waiting for this promotion, waiting for whatever it might be—this thing that needs to shake loose. If just this would happen, then everything would be okay. That’s what you’re focused on; that’s what you’re fixated on. There’s something about us that we just get locked in on those things. We have tunnel vision; that’s all we can see.
I have a theory, and we’re going to see it kind of come out in this text. This man never even acknowledged who it was who was speaking to him when Jesus said to him, “Do you want to be made well?” Later on in the text, we’re going to see that he doesn’t know who healed him. Just by the way, I broke the secret: Jesus is going to heal him. Spoiler alert!
If you didn’t get where the text was going, he is so locked in on the moving of the water that he doesn’t even fully acknowledge who it is that’s speaking to him. He just says, “Hey, how about you don’t ask me dumb questions? Maybe help me.” Of course, Jesus is going to help, but not in the way that he thinks he’s going to help. He’s so intent on watching the water that he’s missing the man who’s speaking to him.
I find this interesting because there were great multitudes of sick people surrounding this pool. At the very moment that the great multitudes of people were watching the water for the moving of the water, on the off chance that the water might move and they might be the one person in first, they were all watching this. Meanwhile, Jesus is healing multitudes in Galilee and Judea. They’re so focused on this that they can’t see him. They can’t break loose of what they’re zeroed in on, fixated on, and focusing on; they’re missing the Messiah.
Charles Spurgeon, writing on this, says, “There they were, and there was Christ who could heal them, but not a single one of them sought him. Their eyes were fixed on the water, expecting it to be troubled. They were so taken up with their own chosen way that the true way was neglected. No mercies were distributed, for none were sought.”
Point number one: you can spend much of your life watching the water and miss Christ and his mercies. Now, they’re in the right place; it’s called the house of mercy. But they’re missing the source of mercy.
The source of living water, the one who is going about the highways and the byways of Judea and Galilee healing people, is the Messiah who is abundant in mercies and full of mercy. He is available, and He is doing what He does best: seeking. As I said previously, He has come to seek and to save that which is lost. Here He is, seeking after this man.
This leads into the second set of seven words: "Do you want to be made well?" The man's response is amazing to me. He doesn't say, "Yes, I want to be made well." Instead, he says, "I don't have anyone to help." It's sad to consider. I wonder, and there is no real way to know, how many people were healed there at the pool of Bethesda. Obviously, there were some. There were probably more than just a few, because there would not be any other reason for multitudes of sick people to be there had there not been many who had been healed. Yet, the people who were healed went away; they never came back to help anybody else.
Further, the weight of the man's words is heavy. He says, "Someone always beats me to the blessing. Someone always gets there before me." The house of mercy had become a place of competition, and he had not made the cut.
Jesus said to him in , "Rise, take up your bed, and walk." Do you think that the man by the pool of Bethesda had ever tried to do just that? Yes, every single time the water was moved, he tried to get up and make his way. But he was always the last one there; someone got in before him.
Now, Jesus says to him, "Rise, take up your bed, and walk." There is a triple command here. Each one of those is an imperative: "Rise" is a command, "Take up your bed" is a command, and "Walk" is a command. Imagine the audacity of that. You're telling a man to get up, take his bed, and walk. That seems slightly impossible, does it not? And yet, Jesus does this constantly.
We see this throughout the Gospels. He tells people to do things that are absolutely impossible. He commanded in a man with a withered hand to stretch forth his hand. He commanded in Peter to walk on water. He commanded a deaf man's ears to be opened. In , he commanded a blind man to receive his sight. He commanded Jairus's daughter, who was dead, to rise. He commanded Lazarus, who was also dead, to come forth out of the tomb. He's commanded you. He's commanded me to preach the Gospel to every creature and to make disciples of all nations. Every single one of these commands seems absolutely impossible. And in us and by us, they are.
But the Scriptures remind us in Luke's Gospel chapter 18 that the things which are impossible with man are possible with God.
Point number two: the commands of Christ carry the power to perform them. This is such a good reminder because Jesus commands what is for us completely impossible. Yet with His command comes the power to perform. He gives us the enabling power to perform. So what is required then? If He is giving us the power to perform the command, what is required on our part? Faith. That's it. Exactly. It is the willingness to step forward into it and say, "God, I'm going to take a step of faith, and I'm going to trust that you're going to show up because I've got no power for this."
Is there anything in your life at this moment that you feel powerless to do, but you seem to feel like you are supposed to? You keep talking yourself out of it because, well, you think, "That's just dumb. I can't do that." Well, no, you can't do that. But maybe God is calling you to do that. If you would step forward, you might find that the power to perform is there.
I'll never forget Pastor Tony. You want to raise your hand, Tony? Pastor Tony right there asked me in January of 1999, "I want you to teach the junior high ministry at the church." I was just the tech guy at the church. I'd like to think I'm still just the tech guy at the church. He said, "I want you to teach the junior high ministry." In my mind, I thought, "Nope, nope, nope, nope, nope. I can't do that."
I took a step of faith. I had taught Bible studies before that time, and I always felt like they fell flat, and I fell flat on my face. I thought there was no way I could do this. But the awesome thing that happens when you're convinced you can't do something is that you find yourself relying a lot more on God and not on your own power to perform. The command of Christ carries the power to perform.
Immediately, look at . The man was made well, and what did he do? Exactly what Jesus commanded. He took up his bed and walked. And that day was the Sabbath. This is where you hear the "dun." For most of us, 21st-century Gentiles in California, it may seem like, "Well, what's the big deal about that?" But if you were a Jew in the first century, this was not good news. He took up his bed and walked; he was carrying a burden.
Therefore, the Jews said to him, in , "It is the Sabbath. It is not lawful for you to carry your bed." I think they said that. I'm pretty sure they expressed a devastating and revealing fact: the hyper-religious Pharisees, the Jews, and the scribes were more concerned about the Sabbath-keeping infraction, the misdemeanor of this man carrying his mattress, than they were amazed by the fact that he was carrying his bed after having been ill. Instead of rejoicing in the miracle, they sought to issue a citation. They had to deal with this problem.
I love his answer to their question. He answered them in , saying, "He who made me well said to me, 'Take up your bed and walk.'" Their concern was the Sabbath, but his concern was the one who had made him well. He didn't know much; he couldn't even name the man who made him well. He simply said, "The man who made me well said to do this." He didn't know the law well enough to argue with them about it.
The whole situation here is complex, but there was one thing he knew that he held on to, and that's what matters. The man who made me well said, "Take up your bed and walk." So, I'm doing what he told me to do. However, I think the man was so fixed and focused on the water that he never actually acknowledged who it was that was talking to him. He doesn't even know who it was who made him well. He just says, "There's a guy who made me well," and he told me to "Take up your bed and walk."
He was so zeroed in and focused on the moving of the water that he didn't know who it was. Then they asked him, "Who is the man who said to you, 'Take up your bed and walk?'" I try as much as possible to give the Pharisees, scribes, and Sadducees the benefit of the doubt. As much as I don't like the Pharisees in the New Testament, I appreciate their commitment. Even though they could be so wrong, they are deeply absorbed in their religion. In one sense, you have to commend them for their dedication.
Yet, every time I try to give them the benefit of the doubt, I realize it was a bad idea. They shift from being concerned that he is carrying his mat to needing to deal with the man who commanded him to do this. They want to find him and get him because they see him as a bad dude, despite the fact that he just healed this man. They completely miss the point.
This man has been raised up off the ground after 38 years, and they are running down to find the suspect of the carrying violation. We have to deal with this! I think this surfaces a challenging truth: when Jesus radically changes and transforms people's lives, it is often the religious people who are not the champions of that change. Far too frequently, the long-term members make it more difficult for the person who has been changed and transformed than welcoming them into the body. We can put up walls, hurdles, and all kinds of challenges and difficulties before them. It just seems like the wrong thing, but it happens more often than we might realize.
Far too often, the people who make it hardest on the newly transformed person are the church people, the religious people. I've seen people, and even some here today, whose lives have been radically transformed by Christ. They have been released and set free from addiction to drugs, alcohol, gambling, pornography, or whatever it may be. Then, someone gets upset at them because they don't understand all the ins and outs and all the perfect theology of the triune nature of God, or they don't do everything right, and so they come down on them. They say, "Don't you know how we do things around here?"
It's like, "Well, listen, just two weeks ago, they were completely loaded and high, and now they're sitting in their right mind. Can we rejoice in that and recognize that God is doing a work in their life and changing them?" This confronts us with the important reality that Jesus is full of grace and truth. Not only is He full of grace and truth, but He extends grace upon grace. Is there anybody here today who is thankful that Jesus is full of grace and truth and that He extends grace upon grace? Are you happy for that? Can I get an amen? Amen. Goodness gracious, He is full of grace and truth.
In , it says He gives more grace. He gives grace to the humble and resists the proud. Jesus is full of grace and truth, and He extends mercy and grace in abundance. Sadly, His people often do the opposite.
Point number three: God's grace and mercy abound and overflow to the gracious and the merciful. In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus said, "Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy." His grace and mercy abound and overflow to the gracious and the merciful. I think we need to be reminded of this. God has given you, and He has given me, grace and mercy in abundance. What should we do with it?
Oh, hold on to it? Keep it? It's my mercy; it's my grace? No, He says, "Give it away." Because what happens when you give grace and mercy to other people? What does God do? He gives more to you. He says, "Here, here's some more grace and mercy. Give it out."
But sometimes we see people and think, "I ain't giving them mercy. They don't deserve it." Let me ask you a question: Did you deserve mercy? No, you didn't. So, what should you do?
Listen, you might say, "Well, I don't know who to give grace and mercy to." Here's a good indication: Think of the person who ticks you off. Oh, you just got angry right now; you just fell into the flesh. Who is the person that just came to mind? They might be sitting next to you. That's your person who needs mercy and grace.
God says, "I give grace and mercy to those who give away grace and mercy." I don't think you can outgive God. Grace and mercy abound and overflow to the gracious and the merciful.
They asked, "Who is it who said to you, 'Take up your bed'?" But the one who was healed, in , did not know who it was. Remember when I said he was so focused on the water that he didn't even know who was speaking to him? Jesus had withdrawn, a multitude being in that place. But that's not the whole story.
Look at the next verse: Afterward, Jesus found him. When you lean over and underline that in your neighbor's Bible, don't worry; they won't mind. They'll give you mercy. Afterward, Jesus found him. It was Jesus who sought him out the first time when he was desperate at the pool of Bethesda, and it's Jesus who finds him again.
Afterward, Jesus found him. This man never sought the Lord once, but Jesus came looking for him. Notice where Jesus found him: afterward, Jesus found him where? In the temple. This man had spent the better part of the last four decades of his life unable to go to the temple. He was restricted by Jewish law because of his illness from ever going to the temple.
And where's the first place he goes? I'd like to think, even though we don't know, that he went to the temple to praise God and rejoice for the fact that he has been healed. He had never been able to go there before, or at least not for the last 38 years. So, the first place he...
Jesus goes to the temple, and afterwards, He found the man in the temple. He said to him, "See, you have been made well. Sin no more, lest a worse thing come upon you." I want to be careful here because I think there's a wrong way to read this verse. In , Jesus's disciples see a man who was born blind and ask, "Hey, Jesus, who sinned? This man or his parents that he should be born blind?" They imply that his blindness from birth is some sort of punishment for wickedness. Jesus responds, "No, that's not the way these things work."
However, there does seem to be an implication in Jesus's exhortation to this man that perhaps the infirmity he had experienced came as a consequence of his actions. Maybe he did something foolish or sinful in the past, which led to the consequence he had endured for 38 years. Now he has been set free and healed of that acute problem, but Jesus points out that there is a bigger issue. He tells the man, "See that you sin no more, lest a worse thing come upon you."
This is similar to what Jesus said to the woman caught in adultery in . She was released from the consequences of her sin and was told, "Go and sin no more." Jesus says the same thing to this man: your illness is gone, but that is not the biggest problem. For 38 years, that was the biggest problem of his life, but now it is no longer the case. The greater issue is that he is still in sin. So, He instructs him to go his way and sin no more.
God is abounding in mercy and grace. The abundance of His mercy and grace flows to those who are merciful and gracious. However, as I mentioned earlier, His abundance of mercy and grace also extends to those who fall short, to sinners. Grace and mercy abound and overflow to the gracious and the merciful, but they also abound to sinners. We must be careful not to take that for granted. As Paul says in , "Shall we sin that grace may abound? Certainly not. How shall we who have died to sin live any longer in it?"
Now that we have been set free, we find ourselves in an interesting position. We suddenly have the opportunity to continue in sin, but Paul emphatically states, "Certainly not."
How shall we, who have lived in sin, died to sin, live any longer in it? Go and sin no more. You see, Jesus sought this man out a second time. He found him again. Why? Because, point number four, God's grace never leaves us where it found us. He wanted this man not just to be healed of his illness; He wanted him to be made whole.
And that's true for you and me as well. He doesn't want to just deal with the acute issue or problem that is this moment. He wants to radically transform everything. He's not content to merely deal with the small issue; He wants to deal with everything and make us whole.
As He does that in this man's life, what is this man's response? Well, it is very much the same response as that of the woman at the well. She went back down to the town of Shechem and spoke to the people there, calling them to come and see Jesus. What do we see here? In , the man departed and told the Jews that it was Jesus who had made him well. You see, those who receive God's grace cannot help but share about it with others. So, he goes and tells the Jews, "It was Jesus. Jesus, the one who made me well. I just want you to know He is the one who made me well."
Now, the response of the religious leaders was not so good. In the next verse, it says, "For this reason, the Jews persecuted Jesus and sought to kill Him because He had done these things on the Sabbath." How dare you heal someone or do a good work on the Sabbath? They would kill you for that. But this man did the right thing. He went and proclaimed abroad that it was Jesus who made him whole.
That's your task and my task: to go and proclaim the praises of Him who called us out of darkness and into His marvelous light. That's what Peter says. You are a chosen generation, a royal priesthood, God's own peculiar people, that you would proclaim the praises of Him who called you out of darkness into His marvelous light.
That's your task today and this week: to go and be gracious and merciful to those people who make you angry. And guess what? You're probably going to run into one of them within the next three hours. So, let's stand together and pray that God gives you the grace and the mercy to...
Be gracious and merciful. God, thank you for your Word. It is challenging, living, powerful, and sharper than any two-edged sword. By it, you reveal the deep recesses of our hearts, but by it, you also transform us.
I pray that you would continue to transform us, making us more like you. Help us to respond and react more like you, with your grace and with your mercy, extending it to other people. We live in a place that is in desperate need of your grace and mercy, and you have sent us to be ambassadors of it here.
We praise you in Jesus' name. Amen.
Scripture in this teaching
7Passages opened in this message
Related teachings
12Other messages that open the same passages