John 5: 1-9 (links validated 4/25/22)

In working on this text, I came across The Visual Commentary on Scripture. One of the pieces of art it highlights for our text is the 1842 sculpture, Angel of the Waters, designed by Emma Stebbins, to commemorate the Croton Aqueduct, which delivered fresh water to Manhattan Island. (Prior to the aqueduct, people in New York City were getting sick from their water supply.) Angel of the Waters sits in Bethesda Terrace in Central Park and has long outlasted the aqueduct. As Naomi Billingsley reflects, the fountain and statue “continue to represent Central Park as a place of respite, and a green lung in the high-rise city that surrounds it… a modern incarnation of the sacred, public space of Bethesda…” Having lived as a single person, alone, during Covid lockdown in downtown Vancouver, BC, I know the healing power of intentional green space. Considering that less than 30% of Manhattan Island is green, and that almost half of its population are single people, it is quite easy to imagine that sitting under the Angel of the Waters became a healing gift for many people these last few years—especially as the only place where they could interact with other people, going from those of us who had “no one” to having someone to help us through the challenges of our time.

A poem on a gravestone in a Boston graveyard says: Here lies the grave of Effie For her, Hell held no terrors Born a virgin, died one too. No runs, no hits, no errors. The poem reminds us that faith is not about playing it safe, so we never make mistakes. If religion is about compassion, love, justice, and truth, it will always involve risk, struggle, and uncertainty. Our best will never be perfect, and we will fall and get back up many times. Our faith rituals guide and strengthen us for this journey, not protect us from its challenges or pain. This is what Jesus is trying to get across to John’s followers. Fasting won’t make you holy. The point is to open towards God so the transformative work can begin. This is what I like to call soul work. Soul work is the process of deep self-examination and discovery to bring ourselves more in alignment with the energies of God...

A friend of mine is a retired Episcopal priest, but he was also a practicing psychiatrist and psychoanalyst for over four decades. We have the best talks when I visit. Once he told me a story of a patient who would make a significant step forward, then step backward. This repeatedly happened over a year. She would finally process her relationship with her father, only to find another reason to get mad at him again. My friend said, “Then one day I was so bored I went to sleep. When she realized I was asleep, she lost it and screamed at me. I woke up, looked at her, and I said, ‘did I make you angry?’. It infuriated her, and she said, ‘Yes, I’m paying you by the hour, and here you sit, asleep.’ ” That’s when he smiled and said, “Then I said, ‘Now you’ve just confronted your father in the room, we can get some work done.’ “Then I asked her, ‘Do you want to get well?’ “ It’s hard to believe, but not all people want to get well or find healing for the soul...

Most people have heard of Joni Eareckson Tada, the woman who’s arms and legs entered paralysis at 17 after breaking her neck in a diving accident. It is hard to imagine how a young athlete could deal with the fact that she was not going to be healed, but famously, Joni did. Rather than being physically healed, she learned to paint by holding the brush in her mouth. She founded “Joni and Friends,” a ministry that helps persons with disabilities and their families reach independence, physically, financially, and spiritually. Does that mean that Joni is spiritually more confident and that her disability no longer leads her to experience sadness or uncertainty? Not at all. In a meditation she wrote on the 50th anniversary of her accident she confesses her early despair and the ways she tried dealing with it: drinking and socializing with “dark companions” – and how the memory of those days still haunts her. The efforts of Christian friends, who studied the Bible with her, included her in their social events, and shared words of wisdom with her, saw Joni as a person with many gifts to offer the world and helped her see them in herself as well...

In the 90's film You’ve Got Mail with Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan, Ryan’s character Kathleen Kelly gives a great monologue about grief and change in the film. She’s the owner of a small bookstore that ends up closing when Hank’s characters large chain bookstore Fox Books moves into town. Reflecting on what’s happened, she says, “People are always saying that change is a good thing. But all they're really saying is that something you didn't want to happen at all... has happened. My store is closing this week. I own a store, did I ever tell you that? It's a lovely store, and in a week it'll be something really depressing, like a Baby Gap. Soon, it'll be just a memory. In fact, someone, some foolish person, will probably think it's a tribute to this city, the way it keeps changing on you, the way you can never count on it, or something. I know because that's the sort of thing I'm always saying. But the truth is... I'm heartbroken. I feel as if a part of me has died, and my mother has died all over again, and no one can ever make it right.” It is very normal to feel anxious about change. It would be more surprising if you weren’t anxious when a major change was ahead. The problem comes in when we let that fear or anxiety about change keep us stuck in one place, when we keep waiting for the perfect moment to embrace change, only that moment never comes, when we’re paralyzed from our anxiety or anticipatory grief or outright fear...

Olive had a great capacity for friendship. A whole group of us came to rely on her generous spirit, her openheartedness, her humour, and her direct and obvious faith. She drew us out of ourselves, increased our confidence, and empowered our faith. One day she complained of a violent headache – and within a few weeks an aggressive brain tumour killed her. We, her friends and her family grieved over her loss...

("Nido Qubein tells the story about a business man whose dime store prospered. But, one day he was taken ill and his life would be ending soon. He called his three adult children together and gave them this challenge: 'One of you will be president of my company and to determine which one I am giving you each one dollar..." and another illustration)