Wherever the river flows,
every sort of living creature that can multiply shall live,
and there shall be abundant fish,
for wherever this water comes the sea shall be made fresh.
Scientists have recently found amazing forms of life that thrive in the terrible saltiness of the Dead Sea. In some strange sense, Ezekiel’s prophecy has proven true, especially because these Archaea live where deep freshwater springs enter the basin.
But we should not allow that fascinating trivium to compromise God’s promise. The point is: What is hopelessly, remorselessly dead will live when God’s word is fulfilled. Human beings live by hope; without a future of opportunities we surrender the will to live.
We find ourselves in the present, between past promises and future fulfillment. This is where Jesus met the beggar at the Pool of Bethesda. The fellow had been stuck there for thirty-eight years. He seemed immobile, frozen in the present moment. If, as a young man, he had expected to be healed, his hopeful readiness had dissipated. He could no longer reply to Jesus’s simple question, “Do you want to be healed?” Instead he offered an excuse he’d used a thousand times over, often repeated to others and to himself. But it was a poor substitute for hope.
Saint John does not tell us precisely why this fellow came to the Pool in the first place. Was he blind, lame, weak, or mentally handicapped? He was clearly dispirited after thirty-eight years. John tells us nothing about his emotional response to the miracle. We hear only that, “Immediately the man became well, took up his mat, and walked.”
These are details we must fill out for ourselves. How will I respond to the Resurrection of Jesus with its implicit invitation to “Rise, take up your mat, and walk?” Will I shed my excuses and resentments and freely praise God with a grateful and joyous heart?
The Easter season is not coincidentally springtime. Those many forms of life that have been dormant are even now stirring with fresh vigor. The sacred celebration, extending from Ash Wednesday to Pentecost, should revive us. If we were content to hibernate in our grievances all winter, the sunshine, warm air, and gentle breezes call us to come out and live again. Excuses don’t cut it anymore.
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I love to write. This blog helps me to meditate on the Word of God, and I hope to make some contribution to our contemplations of God's Mighty Works.
Ordinarily, I write these reflections two or three weeks in advance of their publication. I do not intend to comment on current events.
I understand many people prefer gender-neutral references to "God." I don't disagree with them but find that language impersonal, unappealing and tasteless. When I refer to "God" I think of the One whom Jesus called "Abba" and "Father", and I would not attempt to improve on Jesus' language.
You're welcome to add a thought or raise a question.