Pre:

            Lots of people like spending their summers by the pool.  For some that means a strict spring regimen including diet and exercise so that they won’t look too much like  beached whales in their new bathing suits.  The picture I have in my mind of a summer at the pool is one of well-oiled tourist bodies lying side by side on lawn chairs and blankets.  People frying to a crisp when they fall asleep in the sun. 

            But today I want to take you to a different kind of pool.  This is the pool of Bethzatha in Jerusalem.  It’s not exactly a tourist spot.  It’s a place that attracts sick people, so instead of bikinis and sun tan lotion, it’s bandages and all kinds of salves and medicine.  This pool is sort of the “Lourdes” of that time.  That’s because of the legend that grew up about the pool:  the legend says that from time to time an angel stirs up the water.  And when you see a riffle in the water, that’s when the angel is at work.  And the first one in gets healed.  The pool attracts throngs of people who are blind, paralyzed, and deaf.  They linger as close to the edge of the pool as they can get, and then when the water is stirred up, they limp and run and crawl and jump and push and shove to see who can get in first. 

  Summer at the Shore:  By the Pool

  John 5:2-9

When William Howard Taft was president, there was a reception in the White House, and his tailor got in line with all sorts of dignitaries to shake the president’s hand.  Taft grasped his hand and remarked, “I’m sorry; you look familiar to me, but I just can’t place you.”  Not wishing to embarrass the president, the tailor leaned over and whispered, “I made your pants.” 

            “Oh, yes,” said Taft.  “Of course!  How do you do, Major Pants?” 

            Do you remember the old TV show Cheers?  One of the most memorable things about that show was its theme song that talked about wanting to go “where everybody knows your name.” 

            Being known is really important, isn’t it?  We want to be known, want to be noticed.  Want to be valued.  And these days, it’s easy to get the feeling that you’re just a number, a statistic, an anonymous face in the crowd—on the highway, at school, at the doctor’s office—there are so many other people, so many other concerns.  Who’s going to notice me?  Who’s going to care? 

            Take that thought a few steps further and consider the plight of the man in our Bible Story today.  He too is just one face in a very large crowd—one of many desperately sick people gathered at the pool of Bethzatha.  John tells us that this man is paralyzed.   Today we would call him a paraplegic, and perhaps we would envision him in a state-of-the-art wheel chair, like Christopher Reeve.  But in his day, there were few medical options for him—and not many options for assistance in mobility or access to buildings.  He would spend his days simply lying on his mat, and his nights would be the same.  To get from place to place, he could perhaps crawl using his hands and arms, or he could be carried by friends or relatives.  He was forced to be dependent on other people for everything.  Because hygiene was a difficult issue for him, he was not the most pleasant person to be around.  Most likely he was a beggar, because he had no other way of making a living.     

            He was in a tough spot, and the toughest part of his situation was this.  In his own words:  “I have no one.”  I have no one.

            I have no one.  Nobody cares about me.  No one has taken my case.  No one values me enough to come and sit with me and help me to work my way to the magical place where healing might take place.  Nobody knows my name.  In fact, neither does John, and we don’t know it either.  He is just one paraplegic among so many others.   One needy person in a world of hurt. 

It would appear that the man by the pool has become resigned to his situation.  Yes, some people might find help here.  But not me.  Not me.  This man is quite sure that he will not be healed, yet he continues to come, continues to stare into this mesmerizing water that he can never hope to reach. He is in a place of healing, yet he remains immersed in his disease and withdrawn from life.  He is the perfect example of the popular definition of insanity, which is:  “doing the same thing over and over again, but expecting different results.”  

He continues to stay by the pool as if he believed healing were possible, yet he knows it is not.  Not for him. 

            In that respect, he is so like many people today.  Even though we may not be physically paralyzed, we may be trapped in the same mental space that he is trapped in.  We have problems, we have issues—and sometimes we feel paralyzed, trapped, dependent, isolated.  And it feels permanentt.  We continue to try the same old fixes for the same old problems.  Maybe this time it will work, but it never does because it’s the same old thing. It’s like the old story of the man who lived in a two-story house with his dog.  The dog would sleep at the top of the stairway every night.  Every morning, the man, still half-asleep, would stumble over the dog and fall down the stairs on the way down to make coffee.  One day he told a friend, “You know, after all this time, you’d think the dog would learn!” 

            Sound familiar?  Our attitude about the world makes a big difference in how we cope with our life issues.  We can’t necessarily avoid trouble.  Things happen.  But we can and do choose how we will cope.  Hubert Humphrey, after cancer surgery and a prognosis that gave him less than five years to live, said, “It isn’t what they take from you that counts—it’s what you do with what you have left.”  

            The question is, how do you unlock the magic?  What is the key to making the most out of life even in the midst of tough circumstances?   

            Attitude is really important for emotional, spiritual and physical health.  But it’s not everything.  You need to tap into the very life and power of God. 

The most amazing thing about the Bible story is that while the paraplegic is staring into what amounts to a pool of despair, the very source of life and health is mingling with the crowd.  Jesus is walking about, within an arm’s reach.  The man does not know Jesus, and has no reason to even notice him.  But Jesus singles out this man who is worth less than a paperclip in the eyes of society (and in his own eyes as well).  He singles him out to be healed and start a new life. 

The question that Jesus asks him is a challenge.  It’s also evidence that Jesus sees the man as a real person who can make real choices.  A man who has a future.  Do you want to be made well?   The man’s response reflects the simple truth that he doesn’t know who Jesus is, doesn’t know what Jesus can do for him.  But he quickly finds out. 

            Here comes the turning point.  Pick up your bed and walk.    You want to be healed?  I’ll heal you; now you get up and start walking.  The healing is immediate and decisive.  The results carry him on into the rest of his life.  Think how dramatically this man’s life has changed.  He can no longer say that he “has no one.”  Jesus has touched his life.  He no longer needs the superstitions of the magical pool to fill out his days.  He is done with all that.  He can now go out and get a respectable job like anyone else.  He can support himself, take responsibility for his own life.  He can and he must. 

            What a difference it makes when someone cares enough to reach out and touch a lost and lonely soul.  Especially when that someone reaching out is Jesus. 

            I want to share with you another story about the healing power of reaching out in love.  A more contemporary story that I think will touch your heart. 

As she stood in front of her 5th grade class on the very first day of school Mrs. Thompson told the children a lie. She looked at her students and said that she loved them all the same. However, that was impossible, because there in the front row, slumped in his seat, was a little boy named Teddy Stoddard.

Mrs. Thompson had watched Teddy the year before and noticed that he did not play well with the other children, that his clothes were messy and that he constantly needed a bath. In addition, Teddy could be unpleasant.

It got to the point where Mrs. Thompson would actually take delight in marking his papers with a broad red pen, making bold X's and then putting a big "F" at the top of his papers.

At the school where Mrs. Thompson taught, she was required to review each child's past records and she put Teddy's off until last. However, when she reviewed his file, she was in for a surprise.

Teddy's first grade teacher wrote, "Teddy is a bright child with a ready laugh. He does his work neatly and has good manners ... he is a joy to be around."

His second grade teacher wrote, "Teddy is an excellent student, well liked by his classmates, but he is troubled because his mother has a terminal illness and life at home must be a struggle."

His third grade teacher wrote, "His mother's death has been hard on him. He tries to do his best, but his father doesn't show much interest and his home life will soon affect him if some steps aren't taken."

Teddy's fourth grade teacher wrote, "Teddy is withdrawn and doesn't show much interest in school. He doesn't have many friends and he sometimes sleeps in class."

By now, Mrs. Thompson realized the problem and she was ashamed of herself. She felt even worse when her students brought her Christmas presents, wrapped in beautiful ribbons and bright paper, except for Teddy's. His present was clumsily wrapped in the heavy, brown paper that he got from a grocery bag.  Mrs. Thompson took pains to open it in the middle of the other presents. Some of the children started to laugh when she found a rhinestone bracelet with some of the stones missing, and a bottle that was one-quarter full of perfume. But she stifled the children's laughter when she exclaimed how pretty the bracelet was, putting it on, and dabbing some of the perfume on her wrist. Teddy Stoddard stayed after school that day just long enough to say, "Mrs. Thompson, today you smelled just like my Mom used to." After the children left, she cried for at least an hour.

On that very day, she quit teaching reading, writing and arithmetic. Instead, she began to teach children. Mrs. Thompson paid particular attention to Teddy. As she worked with him, his mind seemed to come alive. The more she encouraged him, the faster he responded. By the end of the year, Teddy had become one of the smartest children in the class and, despite her lie that she would love all the children the same, Teddy became one of her "teacher's pets."

A year later, she found a note under her door, from Teddy, telling her that she was still the best teacher he ever had in his whole life.

Life did not automatically become easy for Teddy Stoddard, but something was unlocked inside him, because Mrs. Thompson cared.  He graduated from high school, and college, and eventually from medical school and became well-known on the medical community.  

Some years later he told his former teacher, "Thank you Mrs. Thompson for believing in me. Thank you so much for making me feel important and showing me that I could make a difference."

Consider these two stories:  the man by the pool, and the little boy in school, and how their lives changed when they were touched by love.  This is how Jesus cares about you. This is how much Jesus believes in you and in your future, your possibilities. 

And this is also our calling, as Christ’s hands and feet in the world, to reach out to the lost and lonely with this kind of love.