Get Up And Go

People have been looking for quick fixes for what ails them since the beginning of time. Every time someone announces a new discovery, hundreds and thousands of people go chasing after the magic potion, the pot of gold, the secret formula that will make all their dreams come true.

When Columbus discovered the New World, the adventurous and the gullible and the desperate flocked across the Atlantic ocean in hopes of finding - something. Something else. Something new. Some were hoping just to begin a new life. Others were looking for excitement, for adventure. Many wanted religious freedom. And still others came in search of gold. Cortez found gold in Mexico and Pizarro found silver in Peru, but their rival Ponce de Leon landed in Florida. There he met natives who told him of a spring with magical powers: anyone who drank the water would be healed of any wounds or diseases - everything from acne to arthritis. But most important of all, it would make them young again. Ponce de Leon completely abandoned his search for gold and spent the rest of his life looking for this miraculous spring which, of course, they called the “Fountain of Youth.” He never found it, and in 1521 he died from a poisoned arrow.

Well, we’re still looking for the fountain of youth, aren’t we. From Botox to liposuction, women and men alike try to turn back the effects of time. From tanning booths to hair implants, from Clairol to Viagra, as the baby boomers age we spend more money every year trying to look and feel younger than we are. And look how the press jumps on rumors of magical cures ... a few years it was the human genome project and genetic engineering; then it was stem cell research and cloning. The current just-around-the-corner miracle cure for cancer is a bio-engineered virus. Yeah, it would be great to have cures for diabetes and Parkinson’s disease... but even if we do, it looks like there’s no cure for just wearing out.

What do you think? Is immortality really just around the corner? And do we really want it to be?

Fifteen centuries before de Leon, Jesus showed up one day at the north end of the temple to visit a pool near the Sheep Gate. It had a reputation for healing; perhaps there were mineral springs underneath which fed the pool. In any case, it may have looked something like modern-day Lourdes, thronging with the blind and the sick and the lame, hoping for a miracle. Unlike the waters of Lourdes, though, this pool had a limited window of effectiveness.

People believed that only when the water stirred in the pool that healing would take place. Scripture doesn’t tell us what caused the water to move, perhaps pressure would periodically build up underground and cause it to bubble and fizz - maybe belch out an impressive odor of sulfur or other minerals - something like Old Faithful, but not as dramatic. Anyway, the tradition held that whoever got into the water first would be healed. So the competition was pretty fierce.

Jesus approaches a man lying near the pool on a pallet, which is something like a futon. This man had apparently been bedridden for 38 years. Unlike the man whose friends were so anxious to have Jesus heal their lame friend that they let him down through a hole in the roof, this man didn’t have anyone to help him. Obviously he could move a little, since he refers to “making his way” to the pool, and bemoaning the fact that he’s not fast enough to be the first into the water. We don’t know how he got to the pool, or whether he went home at night, or if anyone brought him food, or if he did anything at all with his time other than lie there waiting for a miracle. It may well be that the man was a beggar by profession, living off of what others gave him, and as Bible scholar Findlay writes, “An Eastern beggar often loses a good living by being cured.” This man’s life may not have been all that bad. He might very well have had mixed feelings about the possibility of a real cure. And of course since Jesus lived in that culture, He understood that ambivalence.

So Jesus stopped and asked him a question that surprises some people. “Do you want to be made well?” On the surface this is a ridiculous question. It would be like asking someone hungry if they want to eat, or a desert traveler if he would like a drink.

When Jesus asks the man if he wants to be made well, Jesus is not asking an idle question, like “wouldn’t it be nice to be well,” or an abstract question like “is being well a good thing?” It’s more like, “How badly do you want to be well?” Jesus is asking if this man wants to be well badly enough to act, badly enough to take a risk, badly enough maybe even to look like a fool. Does this man want to be well badly enough to face a total, radical, complete transformation of his life?