Like the time in the public infirmary, the Pool of Bethesda. Hundreds of disabled, crippled, sick, incurable people waiting for this crazy miracle that happens once in a blue moon.
Jesus walks in, looks around, and inquires about one particular invalid. Turns out he’s been immobile for thirty-eight years. And when the miracle comes, his condition keeps him back from the miracle. No one helps him in. Time after time. Year after year. Miracle after miracle. Even a blind guy stumbles into a pool of healing angel-water every now and then—but not the cripple.
So Jesus, instead of waiting around to help him into the water the next time the angel shows up, just says, “Get up!” The guy does just that, packs up his things, and heads out. A beautiful display of Jesus’ ability to notice the unnoticeable, to heal the unhealable, to give hope to the hopeless.
But then, apparently—instead of emptying out the entire sick ward—Jesus leaves the several hundred other sufferers to wait for their own uncertain miracle. He just walks out.
Dis. A. Point. Ing.
More often than not, Why? is an impossible and pointless question. Maybe the invitation here is to search for a different question.
