Even if you have jiggle the key a bit

Jesus said to him, “Get up, take up your bed, and walk.” John 4:8

Thirty-eight years is a long time to wait. It really doesn’t matter how beautiful the five-roofed columnade around the pool Bethsaida near the Sheep’s Gate was.  It is a long time. Waiting for the movement of the water, waiting for restoration, waiting for freedom.  But pretty much a hopeless sort of waiting, because “Sir, there is no one to move me when the water is stirred, and while I am going another steps down before me.”  What I am waiting for is simply not humanly possible.  

The Aramaic or Hebrew word beth hesda (בית חסד/חסדא) means house of mercy or grace, which we know.  It also means shame or disgrace.  Both of the ideas rolled into one.  

Because, really, that is what mercy and grace are.  Reaching into someone’s disgrace and releasing them from the prison cell of shame.  And it doesn’t matter whose fault it is, or why they are locked up, hopeless.  The point is the mercy and grace.  

And that is how I am to live.  Extending mercy to each and every soul around me, because my Father in heaven is merciful. That is the motivation, our Father’s mercy, with nothing to do with merit or change of heart.  That guy was doing absolutely nothing.  The go and sin no more part came after the release, after the extension of grace.  It was not a conditional prison break.  

And He offers that same moment to me.  Release.  Freedom from what aches inside.  Freedom from what keeps be back from living in His joy and a spirit of thankfulness.  The Jewish idea of healing is about not being separated from the light of God, it’s about being united, being joined, being bound together, being in fellowship, being allied with.  It involves the whole person, body, soul and spirit.

So one thing we can learn from the guy by the pool.  It is never too late.  The gates never rust shut.  The hinges can’t fall off.  God’s mercy or grace is relentless.  I will not look in anger on you; for I am merciful, says Yahweh, I will not keep anger forever. Thirty-eight years is a long time, but it is not eternity.

Therefore, let me be merciful, for blessed are the merciful.  Holding back nothing from my neighbor.  Or myself.  Take up my bed and walk.  Free.