Grace provides healing.

As I was giving thought to the miracles of Jesus, it seemed to me that so much of Jesus’ healing ministry had an element of “being in the right place at the right time.” The woman with the bleeding disorder noticed Jesus when he was on the way to another miraculous event; she was in the right place at the right time. The Centurion was in a town very near to where Jesus finished his Sermon on the Mount (right place / right time). Peter’s mother-in-law was healed because Jesus had a great and right connection with Peter. Lazarus was called back from the grave because Jesus was a very good friend; the timing was a little off for Mary and Martha, but Jesus still restored his life with divine force. Lazarus, Mary, and Martha were in the “right place”—they fit nicely into Jesus’ circle of close friends and disciples.

What if you weren’t in the right place at the right time? What if you were actually in the wrong place? What if you were in the wrong place, doing the wrong thing? What if you were doing something that stood in opposition to the will of God? What if you were somewhere that you shouldn’t be? Would Jesus still be willing to heal you?

In John 5:1-9 we see an account of a man who is healed by the pool of Bethesda. That, initially, seems to be “the right place at the right time,” but there is more, which John points out in later verses, that shows this man was not deserving of Jesus’ attention; he was not in the “right.” And this is where our focus turns for this message. This man, like us, does not deserve Jesus’ healing touch, but Jesus does heal him.

What is the basis for Jesus healing this man? What is the basis for Jesus healing anyone? What is the basis for Jesus dragging us out of the marshy wetland of broken promises and damaged souls? What would cause him to heal our souls for eternity? The answer is grace: God’s undeserved love poured out for us in Christ Jesus.

The location of this pool is to the north of the temple in Jerusalem. Depending on the research you do and the articles you run across, this site could be a Jewish ritual bath (mikveh—which is good) or it could be a pool dedicated to the Greek god Aesclepius (which is bad). This location leaves a question mark over the whole episode. Is the man in the right place? Maybe, maybe not.

Here is what we need to know: 

  1. This man is a complainer (John 5:5,7).

  2. He shifts the blame to others (5:10-13).

  3. He has some very obvious sins (5:14), which are serious enough for Jesus to speak bluntly to him in the temple.

  4. His words reflect that he is ungrateful and disloyal. After he finds out Jesus’ name, he reports him to the Jewish authorities (5:15).

  5. He is unrepentant (5:14-15). There's no indication of any remorse or regret on the part of this cured individual; instead his actions showed that he would rather report Jesus to the Jews instead of thanking Jesus for this miracle.

Those five points that John brings to our understanding of this miracle show that the man is undeserving of Jesus’ healing touch. So why is this event in the gospel of John? There are two reasons that immediately jump to the front of the line. All divine healing packages are delivered to us by God’s undeserved love. They are not earned, nor can they be “unearned,” by our callous, sinful nature. That is the beauty of grace. But the other lesson that is learned here reminds us that all acts of grace are not received with thanks, yet that still does not negate God’s desire to love the unlovable.

This man’s life was benefited by Jesus’ kindness, but it seemed to leave him spiritually unchanged. In my human mind, that seems like a waste of Jesus’ time and effort. But Jesus considers a much bigger plan. Jesus acts in grace. Jesus heals even though the man is ungrateful. Jesus shows divine care despite the man’s unchecked nature. My human reasoning wants to grumble about this event—he didn’t deserve Jesus’ attention.

Then grace gives me a gentle elbow to the ribs. Did I deserve Jesus’ forgiveness? No! Did I deserve the throes of agony that Jesus endured so that I could live as God’s child? No! Did I deserve God’s attention to detail for my eternal destiny? No! Did I deserve the tormented hours Jesus spent on a blood-stained cross for my fractured loyalty? No! Do I deserve God’s enthralled attention today? No! Grace tells me I don’t deserve anything from God; but grace reminds me “he does!” Grace says I can’t demand God’s love; and grace harkens me back to his vigilance to show me daily love. 

The Lenten hymn speaks to this grace:

Alas! and did my Saviour bleed?
And did my Sovereign die?
Would he devote that sacred head
For sinners such as I?

Was it for crimes that I had done
He groaned upon the tree?
Amazing pity, grace unknown, 
And love beyond degree!

(Text: Isaac Watts, 1674–1748, abr., alt. // Christian Worship #129)

Lent is a beautiful time to encounter the reversal of our broken world under the miraculous power of God’s grace. It’s a stunning opportunity to see that grace begins the transaction of un-breaking the broken. Grace calls to the front of our meditation the blissful moments where our undeserving nature meets God’s ample devotion to righting our wrongs. Grace will not leave us loitering in doubt but secures our gaze upon the face of God, the Mighty Maker, who died for his own creatures’ sin (“Alas! And Did My Savior Bleed,” v. 3).

As each year tacks on another set of mistakes and broken promises, the tidings of John 5 allow me to rest in God’s grace rather than trying to drum up a reason that God should care yet another day for me. He loves without my merit. He bled to break my chains. He did all that was necessary to free me from the despondent condition of my soul. Thank you, grace incarnate. Thank you, Jesus, for committing to me, to us, no matter what. May the grace of the Lord Jesus, un-break our broken souls.

Blessings to each of you!


John 5:1-9 

After this there was a feast of the Jews, and Jesus went up to Jerusalem.

2 Now there is in Jerusalem by the Sheep Gate a pool, in Aramaic called Bethesda, which has five roofed colonnades. 3 In these lay a multitude of invalids—blind, lame, and paralyzed. (4*)  5 One man was there who had been an invalid for thirty-eight years. 6 When Jesus saw him lying there and knew that he had already been there a long time, he said to him, “Do you want to be healed?” 7 The sick man answered him, “Sir, I have no one to put me into the pool when the water is stirred up, and while I am going another steps down before me.” 8 Jesus said to him, “Get up, take up your bed, and walk.” 9 And at once the man was healed, and he took up his bed and walked.

Now that day was the Sabbath.