Ebenezer

Let's get real for a minute. Down to the gritty, bare basics here.  

    The fifth chapter of the Gospel According to John is very dear to me. There have been times when I could feel my Lord near me, feel his presence in but a small portion of its gloriousness, as much wonder as my frail earthly figure can take, and in this chapter I once heard his voice so clearly. Here I raised my ebenezer, and I go back to it over and over to feel the warmth of his merciful love toward me.



    In the first part of the chapter, it talks about the pool of Bethesda where the infirm could be made whole again. "For an angel went down at a certain season into the pool, and troubled the water: whosoever then first after the troubling of the water stepped in was made whole of whatsoever disease he had" (5:4). And there's this man who's lame, and who "has no man" to carry him to the pool so that he might be made to walk again. This man had this infirmity for 38 years. Thirty and eight years of knowing there's a way to be healed, but not being able to drag himself to the water first.
    Then Jesus comes along and sees the man, sees the wretched condition he's in, and tells him to "rise, take up they bed and walk."(Side note here: Jesus sees him and asks, "Wilt thou be made whole?" not because the man's healing is dependent upon him saying, "yeah, fix me Lord," but because the man reflects upon his state and how there is nothing he can do to help himself. Jesus could have easily healed the man had the man said no, just like the man possessed of devils. Even demons know there is nothing that can stop the power of God.) Jesus, with a word, heals the man, and gives him a commandment. "Rise, take up thy bed and walk."

    The man is us. We, being vile, sinful creatures of the flesh can do nothing to cleanse ourselves. We "have no man" to carry us. But his children do have a God, an all-powerful and all-merciful God, who saw them, took pity, and healed them of our iniquity. Jesus healed that one man there and left the others, and yet this wasn't unfair because he didn't have to heal anybody - this is mercy. "For as the Father raiseth up the dead, and quickeneth them; even so the Son quickeneth whom he will" (5:21).

    The second part of the chapter is our bed. It's a sort of promise to God's children that as this man has been made whole again, so shall you be. It's a feather bed promise of eternal rest in holy delight; praise the King of mercy, hallelujah! "Marvel not at this: for the hour is coming, in the which all that are in the graves shall hear his voice, And shall come forth; they that have done good, unto the resurrection of life; and they that have done evil, unto the resurrection of damnation" (5:28-29). The man wasn't instructed to leave his bed, but to take it with him as we should assurance of our eternal salvation.

    The first part is an illustration of how sometimes we have problems, sometimes for a long time, and we can't do anything about it ourselves. It also shows us, as we should be reminded sometimes, of how our earthly selves can do nothing to attain goodness. We have no man to carry us to the water and we lack the strength to do it - but God doesn't. We suffer for thirty and eight years because we're trying to drag ourselves along and we're watching others pass us when all it takes is for God to say "rise." And the second part is assurance, like saying, "look, this is for you too, I promise, and it's going to happen, and this is why." It's a bed for us to lie down on and rest when we get tired of trying by our own power and then for us to carry with us when we're healed.