Healing Stories

John 4:46–5:18 NRSV

Then he came again to Cana in Galilee where he had changed the water into wine. Now there was a royal official whose son lay ill in Capernaum. When he heard that Jesus had come from Judea to Galilee, he went and begged him to come down and heal his son, for he was at the point of death. Then Jesus said to him, “Unless you see signs and wonders you will not believe.” The official said to him, “Sir, come down before my little boy dies.” Jesus said to him, “Go; your son will live.” The man believed the word that Jesus spoke to him and started on his way. As he was going down, his slaves met him and told him that his child was alive. So he asked them the hour when he began to recover, and they said to him, “Yesterday at one in the afternoon the fever left him.” The father realized that this was the hour when Jesus had said to him, “Your son will live.” So he himself believed, along with his whole household. Now this was the second sign that Jesus did after coming from Judea to Galilee. After this there was a festival of the Jews, and Jesus went up to Jerusalem. Now in Jerusalem by the Sheep Gate there is a pool, called in Hebrew Beth-zatha, which has five porticoes. In these lay many invalids—blind, lame, and paralyzed. One man was there who had been ill for thirty-eight years. When Jesus saw him lying there and knew that he had been there a long time, he said to him, “Do you want to be made well?” The sick man answered him, “Sir, I have no one to put me into the pool when the water is stirred up; and while I am making my way, someone else steps down ahead of me.” Jesus said to him, “Stand up, take your mat and walk.” At once the man was made well, and he took up his mat and began to walk. Now that day was a sabbath. So the Jews said to the man who had been cured, “It is the sabbath; it is not lawful for you to carry your mat.” But he answered them, “The man who made me well said to me, ‘Take up your mat and walk.’ ” They asked him, “Who is the man who said to you, ‘Take it up and walk’?” Now the man who had been healed did not know who it was, for Jesus had disappeared in the crowd that was there. Later Jesus found him in the temple and said to him, “See, you have been made well! Do not sin any more, so that nothing worse happens to you.” The man went away and told the Jews that it was Jesus who had made him well. Therefore the Jews started persecuting Jesus, because he was doing such things on the sabbath. But Jesus answered them, “My Father is still working, and I also am working.” For this reason the Jews were seeking all the more to kill him, because he was not only breaking the sabbath, but was also calling God his own Father, thereby making himself equal to God.

I’ve heard these stories so many times. The son of a carpenter from Galilee, traveling through the countryside, proclaiming freedom for captives and healing for the sick. I’ve heard the stories so many times that they’ve worn off, grown thin.

You see, as soon as this group of misfit Jews started

But after a while, I had to just go see for myself. Could the stories be true?

You see, my child has been sick for a long time. We’ve tried the medicine, the healing baths, the fasting. We’ve followed everyone’s advice: just pray for them, God will hear you and respond. But, of course, I do this and there is no response.

Maybe my faith is too weak. Maybe I’m not saying the words in the proper order or with God’s preferred amount of reverence and humility.

Just days ago, as we were finishing our noon-day meal, one of my younger friends at the court imparted that same, worn out, placating “wisdom” — sir, have you prayed about it?

As if in watching my child suffer, my dear loved one struggle, I hadn’t had the brilliant notion to say a few words to God. Oh, trust me, I’ve had words for God. Thanks for the feedback, buddy, but don’t think I haven’t.

Sorry, I don’t mean to bite this kid’s head off, but come on — did you pray about it? Yeah, I prayed. Like…a lot.

But at some point you have to take matters into your own hands. I’m getting desperate. With all my power and access and position, you’d think we’d be able to get some decent diagnositics done, at least, and have a more clear plan of treatment. But the kid is getting worse. And I’m getting desperate.

So here’s what I’m going to do I’m going to go find this miraculous healer. I know he’s nearby. I remember hearing about that little show he put on at the wedding feast a while back. Now, he’s back in the area and this is my chance. Maybe I can get him to come heal my child.

And so, I head to Galilee, setting out from Capernaum with some of my advisors, but of course I have to leave my child at home — his condition is worsening. But I have to go, I have to see this Jesus, even if I have to beg, I’ll do it — position, authority, being a ruler in a royal setting — these are all nice, but when the ones we love are dying, all the stops come out. I’ll pray, I’ll beg, I’ll even offer my own life as a martyr for my child.

And there he is.

Teaching, it seems. But I’ve gotta interrupt. I need to get his attention — come, see my son.

Wait what, what is this response. “Unless you see signs and wonders you will not believe.”

Oh come on, you too!?! Just pray about it. Why do you need signs or wonders to believe? Blessed are those who do not see, but believe.

Yeah, Jesus, that’s all well and good but I’m desperate. Yeah, I want signs and wonders. I want miracles. Because nothing else seems to be working. So yeah, I came all the way to get you to come visit my son. Is that so much to ask? I don’t need to you part the Red Sea or make water come from a rock — I just need you to show up and ease my child’s pain. Help us like you seem to help so many others. Sir, he’s dying.

His reply — “Go; your son will live.” — rings in my ears as the healer looks away, on to the needs of others around us. He says he’s heading to Jerusalem next, needs to see others who need healing at the pools there. So he’s just leaving me with these words, “Go, your son will live.”

I believe him.

At least, I want to believe him. I want those words to be true, for it to be that simple. Just believe. Do not fear, believe. Easier said than done, but ok, if that’s what it takes.

[close eyes, skwint, and pray about believing]

I believe, I believe, I believe.

(Now please….do something — did I say it right, enough times? I believe???)

(help me when I don’t believe)

So I leave, I guess that’s all I can do.

Walking down the hill, away from Cana, on my way to Capernaum once more. Is that it? Is it that simple? I believe and he gets better.

But I’ve believed in God’s power for a long time. What’s different? Is it that I finally got God’s attention because I showed up in person to see this healer? What are the mechanics of that?

I know what it’s like to command people and expect they’ll do what I say. Apparently, this healer Jesus also believes in the power of a commandment — “Go, he’ll be ok.”

And then I see my friends and our house staffers. They’re coming to meet me. I’m almost home, but they’re coming to find me.

He’s healed! Yesterday, it seems, right when Jesus speaks those words to me, my son is healed. I’m flabbergasted. I believed and it worked?

I believed and it worked?

Why? How?

And why not always? Why not everyone? This actually makes me a little bit angry — I’m sure there are lots of others out there who really hope that healing can happen, really want to believe it, but why not them? Is it because I have position in the royal hierarchy? Is it because I demanded him to come with me? Are there some who qualify and others who don’t?

I think back to that conversation with that foolish young man in my household, the one who told me I should just pray. I’ll prove him wrong. Pray it away? Well, that didn’t work. It took a mighty act of this healer to do it. Not my thoughts, prayers, or whatnot.

Weeks pass. The troop of Jesus followers is long gone. They’ve made it to Jerusalem, so I hear. And from the word that’s come back to Cana, it seems this healer is continuing to help people as he goes. I heard this story about that healing pool by the Sheep Gate, you know, the one with the five porticoes — I heard about all the sick people there and how Jesus met them.

As the story goes, I guess it was just days later, after we’d had our encounter in Cana, that Jesus healed another, and this time, on the Sabbath day.

According to the rumors, Jesus healed someone by the pool by simply telling them to get up and walk. Everyone knows that the superstition is that you need to bath in the pool in order to have a chance at healing. But this guy, it turns out, had been unable to get into the water because of his ailments and therefore, with all his earnestness and believe and desire and hope, all the thoughts and prayers he can muster, that it’s not enough.

Apparently, this is how it went down. Jesus doesn’t offer to help him into the water. No ritual cleansing necessary here, I guess. Instead, he just commands the man to get up and walk. No intervention, no healing bath, not even a prayer or a demand for belief. Just action — get up. He asked if the man wanted to be well.

I can only imagine hearing that question. Like if I’d shown up in Cana requesting help for my son and if Jesus had replied — do you want him to be made well? — well yeah, duh. That’s what I’m here for.

I’d be mad if I were that guy at the pool. Do you want to be well? No, that’s not why I’m here, no, I just sit here, struggling for position into a healing pool, because it’s good for my tan.

Of course I want to be made well. Of course I want the washing and the prayers and the rituals to work. How can you even ask me that?!?!?

That story, about the man at the pool, has been circulating across the countryside. You see, it turns out that the man found Jesus at the temple a bit later. Jesus witnesses this man healed. This guy has been wandering around the temple, telling everyone what happened.

Of course, like me, everyone is a little surprised.

And the man talks about repenting. God is still working, it seems. Repent, turn away from sin, he says? Just believe, he says?

God I will turn away from sin before you heal me. Before you intervene. If I do that, will future struggles pass us by? I’ll be good, I’ll be righteous. I’ve seen this power at work. My son is healed. This crippled man is walking. God is still working.

As I’ve taken time to consider all these things, I’ve come to some peace. Not because I know what Jesus is really up to, not because I get what happened to heal my son or that man. But I’ve found peace, perhaps knowing that it’s not about my righteousness or my proper prayers or my orthodox beliefs.

What if this is about God’s faithfulness to us? In spite of our doubt, in spite of our earnestness, in spite of our inability to see the bigger pictures…God is faithful to us.

Maybe that’s what these healing stories are for. Not to make us all better or wipe all struggles away. But to be reminded that God is faithful to us, and God is still at work.

Amen.