Message: "Do You Want to be Well?" - 5/25/2025
Do You Want to Be Well?
John
5:1-9; Revelation 22:1-5
In the series, “Rise Up -- How to Start Living Again”
There's
a question that cuts through all our pretenses, all our excuses, all the ways
we've learned to make peace with being less than whole. It's the question Jesus
asked a man who had been waiting by a pool for thirty-eight years: "Do you
want to be well?"
It
sounds almost cruel, doesn't it? Of course he wants to be well. Who wouldn't?
But maybe Jesus knew something we often forget—that sometimes we get so used to
being stuck that we stop believing change is possible. Sometimes it feels safer
to stay where we are than to risk hoping for something different.
Picture
this scene with me. It's Jerusalem, near the Sheep Gate, at a place called
Bethesda—which means "house of mercy." There are twin pools
surrounded by covered walkways, and they're filled with people who are sick,
disabled, hurting. The word on the street is that sometimes an angel stirs the
water, and whoever gets in first gets healed.
But
there's this one man who's been lying there for thirty-eight years.
Thirty-eight years. That's longer than some of you have been alive. That's a
lifetime of watching other people get their breakthrough while you stay exactly
where you are.
And
here's what breaks my heart about his story: when Jesus asks if he wants to be
well, the man doesn't say "yes." He says, "Sir, I have no one to
put me into the pool when the water is stirred up; while I am making my way,
someone else steps down ahead of me."
Do you
hear what's really happening here? This isn't just about physical paralysis.
This is about communal neglect. For thirty-eight years, this man has been
invisible. People walked past him every single day. They stepped over him to
get to the water. They pushed ahead of him when healing was available.
Jesus
meets us in the places where everyone else walks past.
Maybe
you've never been physically paralyzed, but most of us know what it feels like
to be stuck. Some of us are stuck in grief that feels like it will never lift.
Some of us are stuck in old wounds that haven't healed, in bitterness or
resentment or shame. Some of us are just stuck in plain exhaustion—going
through the motions of living without really being alive.
When
Jesus approaches this man, he doesn't offer a lecture about faith. He doesn't
analyze why the man is in this condition. He just asks one simple, piercing
question: "Do you want to be made well?"
And
then something beautiful happens. Jesus doesn't wait for the man to get to the
water. Jesus brings the healing to him. "Stand up," Jesus says.
"Take your mat and walk." And immediately—after thirty-eight
years—the man is made whole.
Notice
this: Healing isn't just about the body—it's about wholeness. The Greek word
Jesus uses doesn't just mean physically healthy. It means complete, sound,
whole in every way—spiritually, emotionally, relationally.
And
notice this too: Grace doesn't wait for you to get up—it comes to get you
first.
Let me
tell you about Christine. Her life, she says, felt like a garden overrun with
weeds—shame, guilt, and pain that seemed impossible to uproot. These weeds took
root early, shaped by childhood rejection and trauma. She was adopted at 10
after years in foster care. At 12, abuse began that would continue for years,
leaving scars that ran deep into her soul.
At 17,
she ran away, hoping to leave the pain behind. But the trauma followed her. And
when she finally found the courage to speak her truth, the church she turned to
didn't believe her. They believed her abuser instead. The rejection of her
truth, especially by people who claimed to love Jesus, left her shattered.
For
years, Christine lived as though the abuse didn't affect her, determined to
survive and navigate the world of pain alone. But there's a verse she
eventually had tattooed on her arm, from Mark 5:41, where Jesus says,
"Talitha koum"—"Little girl, I say to you, rise." Those
words became Jesus's constant reminder not to give up on herself, just as he
didn't give up on the little girl in that story.
When
Christine finally surrendered to God, everything began to change. She fell to
her knees and said, "Take it from me. This isn't my burden to carry
anymore." And God began to clear the weeds in her garden—not all at once,
but one by one. God showed her that healing wasn't about covering up the pain
or pretending it didn't exist. It was about allowing God to tend to the broken
places, to pull out the weeds by the root, and to plant seeds of love,
patience, and forgiveness.[i]
Then
there's Pastor Clayton Smith, who became a single-parent pastor with two small
children when his wife of 13 years died suddenly after a 30-hour illness. He
was faced with the loss of the love of his life, caring for their children, and
leading the church he served.
Clayton
made a choice: he was not going to let this personal loss destroy him, his
family, or his ministry. And he survived, thanks to the grace of God and the
support of his local church. Family and friends would not let him go it alone.
From his loss, he learned to be a better father, friend, and pastor. He began
growing through his grief and personal disaster.
But
here's the beautiful part: Clayton's healing became healing for others. He
started a crisis support group for people dealing with trauma and loss.
"People in the community were in need, just as I was," he writes,
"and providing help for others was healing for me."[ii]
Both
Christine and Clayton discovered what the man by the pool discovered—that Jesus
meets us in our stuck places and invites us into wholeness. And this connects
to the beautiful vision we see in Revelation 22, where John describes a river
of life flowing from the throne of God, through the middle of the city. On each
side of the river are trees bearing fruit every month, with leaves for the
healing of the nations.
That's
the world Jesus is pointing toward—a world where healing is abundant, where no
one is left out, where everyone is made whole. It's not just individual
healing, but communal healing. It's not just fixing what's broken in your body,
but restoring your identity, your community, and your hope.
So let
me ask you the same question Jesus asked that man by the pool: Do you want to
be made well?
Maybe
you've been waiting by your own pool for too long. Maybe you've been depending
on systems or routines or people who keep letting you down. Maybe it's time to
hear Jesus speak directly to you: "Get up. Pick up your mat. Walk."
Here
are some concrete ways to respond to Jesus's invitation:
· Name
the place where you're feeling stuck or worn out. Write it down. Pray over it.
Be honest with God about where you need healing. Maybe it's a relationship
that's been broken for too long. Maybe it's grief that feels like it's
swallowing you whole. Maybe it's just exhaustion from carrying burdens that
were never meant to be yours alone.
· Take
one concrete step toward healing—whether that's making a phone call, asking for
help, or starting a new habit. Don't wait until you feel ready. Don't wait
until you have it all figured out. Just take one small step toward the
wholeness God wants for you.
· Help
someone else get to the water. Be the friend, not the bystander. Don't be part
of the crowd that walks past people who are hurting. Be the one who stops, who
sees, who helps lift someone up. Because here's what Christine and Clayton both
discovered: helping others heal is part of our own healing.
· Let
grace move first. Stop waiting to be "ready" and start trusting that
Jesus meets you right where you are. You don't have to clean up your act before
you come to Jesus. You don't have to have your life together. Jesus comes to
the pool where you're lying and asks, "Do you want to be well?"
As a
church, we're called not only to seek healing for ourselves, but to become a
community of healing for others. We can't just gather around the pool and
ignore the ones lying beside it. We are called to speak life, to help people
up, to say—you don't have to stay stuck anymore.
Because
wellness is personal, but it's never just private. We rise together. We heal
together. We walk together into the wholeness God has for us.
The
question isn't whether you deserve healing. The question isn't whether you've
been faithful enough or good enough. The question is simple: Do you want to be
well?
Jesus
is asking you that question right now. Not later, when you get your act
together. Not when you feel worthy. Right now, in whatever pool you've been
lying beside, however long you've been stuck.
Do you
want to be well?
If
your answer is yes, then hear Jesus say to you what he said to that man so long
ago: "Stand up. Take your mat. Walk."
Your
healing starts now. Your rising begins today. Let's walk toward wholeness
together.
Closing
Prayer
Loving Savior,
You came not just to mend broken bodies,
but to restore broken hearts, fractured lives, and forgotten souls.
We have heard your
question, “Do you want to be well?”
And in our deepest places, we say, “Yes, Lord.”
So now give us strength
to rise—
To step forward in faith,
To carry the mat we once lay upon,
And to walk in your grace.
Make us people of
healing.
Help us not only to receive, but to give.
Not only to rise, but to lift.
Not only to be made whole, but to help others become whole.
We trust you with our
broken places.
Now let your healing continue—in us, among us, and through us. Amen.
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