Sermon Synopsis
This sermon from John 5 explores the healing of the man at the pool of Bethesda as a vivid picture of humanity’s physical and spiritual helplessness. Through Jesus’ penetrating question, “Wilt thou be made whole?”, the message challenges individuals and assemblies to examine whether they truly desire transformation or have grown comfortable with their condition. The contrast between law and grace highlights Christ’s power to heal completely and set people free. Ultimately, the sermon calls listeners to receive Christ by believing on His name and to embrace the freedom and wholeness He offers.
Please note: This transcript is provided as close to verbatim record of the sermon.
John 5:1–9
Good morning, everyone. It’s nice to be back with you. I’d like you to turn in your Bibles, please, to the Gospel of John, chapter 5. John chapter 5. I’m going to read the first nine verses, although we may consider more than that.
“After this there was a feast of the Jews; and Jesus went up to Jerusalem. Now there is at Jerusalem by the sheep market a pool, which is called in the Hebrew tongue Bethesda, having five porches. In these lay a great multitude of impotent folk, of blind, halt, withered, waiting for the moving of the water. 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. And a certain man was there, which had an infirmity thirty and eight years. When Jesus saw him lie, and knew that he had been now a long time in that case, he saith unto him, Wilt thou be made whole? The impotent man answered him, Sir, I have no man, when the water is troubled, to put me into the pool: but while I am coming, another steppeth down before me. Jesus saith unto him, Rise, take up thy bed, and walk. And immediately the man was made whole, and took up his bed, and walked: and on the same day was the sabbath.”
And again, God will bless that reading of His precious Word to us this morning.
As we look at John’s Gospel, it’s a very interesting Gospel. In chapter 1 there is what we call the prologue, in verses 1–18, where John introduces some of the great themes he is going to trace through the book. We see a couple of those themes very much in evidence up to now, and particularly in this chapter.
One of the themes introduced in John 1 is found in verse 12:
“As many as received him, to them gave he power to become the sons of God, even to them that believe on his name.”
If you’ve been reading John’s Gospel up to this point, it seems like everybody is receiving Him. Nathanael receives Him. Nicodemus receives Him. The woman of Samaria receives Him. She runs into her village and says, “Come, see a man which told me all things that ever I did: is not this the Christ?” And they come and hear Him, and they believe—not because of her words, but because they heard Him themselves.
If only the Gospel of John continued like that, it would be wonderful, wouldn’t it? Receiving Him, receiving Him, receiving Him.
But sadly, there’s another theme introduced in John 1:11:
“He came unto his own, and his own received him not.”
Up to this point, we haven’t seen much evidence of that. But when we get to chapter 5, it is really the beginning of the unbelief of the Jewish leadership toward the person of Christ. They become so upset that He healed this man on the Sabbath day that, if you look at John 7:23, you’ll find this:
“If a man on the sabbath day receive circumcision, that the law of Moses should not be broken; are ye angry at me, because I have made a man every whit whole on the sabbath day?”
Although chapter 7 is only two chapters on from chapter 5, in real time almost two years have gone by—and they are still angry that He healed this man on the Sabbath day. Amazing, the depth of their anger toward Him.
Another theme introduced in John 1 is given in verse 17:
“The law was given by Moses, but grace and truth came by Jesus Christ.”
We’re going to see a tremendous contrast in chapter 5 between how the law responds to this healing and how grace responds. Instead of rejoicing, the legalistic mind says, “It is the sabbath day: it is not lawful for thee to carry thy bed.” They come down hard on this man.
On the other hand, grace and truth actually do something for him. They give him help and hope. That’s really the contrast we’re going to see in this chapter.
Notice in verse 1 it says, “After this there was a feast of the Jews.” In one sense, that’s a very sad statement. When God gave these festivals—and John’s Gospel, by the way, revolves around the festivals—they weren’t called “the feasts of the Jews.” They were called the feasts of the Lord. He initiated them. He wanted fellowship with His people.
The tragedy is that they were no longer the feasts of the Lord; they were the feasts of the Jews. How did that happen?
If you look at Isaiah 1:14, the Lord says something stunning:
“Your new moons and your appointed feasts my soul hateth: they are a trouble unto me; I am weary to bear them.”
How did things change from Leviticus 23, where they are the feasts of the Lord, to Isaiah 1, where God says He hates them? What happened was this: the people were still observing the festivals, but their hearts were far away. They were going through the motions.
And isn’t it easy for us to go through the motions? The Lord has given us a kind of festival on the first day of the week, when we come together to remember Him. If we’re not careful, it can become ritual. We lose something of the wonder of it all and simply go through the motions.
I’m not saying that’s the case here—but it’s worth asking ourselves: Is it real in our hearts? Are we coming with baskets full and hearts overflowing, or has it become routine?
We’re told there was at Jerusalem, by the sheep market, a pool called Bethesda, having five porches. Archaeological digs have uncovered this pool, and it’s remarkable—quite large, surrounded by these porches that provided shelter.
It was located by the sheep gate. When people came up to Jerusalem for the festivals, they often brought a lamb. A lamb that started out in perfect condition might arrive dusty and worn. Conveniently, there was a pool there to wash the lamb.
But as people came through that gate, they were confronted with another sight. In those five porches lay “a great multitude of impotent folk, blind, halt, withered.”
Imagine taking a panoramic snapshot of those porches—sick, damaged humanity lying there. God rested on the first Sabbath because creation was “very good.” This picture shows a creation no longer very good.
And while these were physical conditions, they are also a powerful picture of the spiritual condition of the human race. People are impotent—powerless to change themselves. Blind. Lame. Unable to walk upright with God.
Before I was saved, I knew my life displeased God. I tried to change myself, but the harder I tried, the worse I became. Humanity is powerless apart from Christ.
Why were they there? Verse 4 tells us they believed healing might come through the moving of the water. Whatever was happening, something real kept them there.
This man had been there thirty-eight years. Imagine the frustration: each time the water stirred, he moved toward the pool—splash—someone else got in first. Over and over again.
When Jesus saw him and knew he had been a long time in that condition, He asked him an astonishing question:
“Wilt thou be made whole?”
At first glance, it seems like an obvious question. Why else would he be there? But it’s a brilliant question.
Sometimes people get so used to their condition that they can’t imagine anything different. If this man were healed, his whole life would change. No more lying on a mat. He would have to make decisions, work, provide, live differently.
And sometimes we get used to an inferior spiritual state. Maybe there is a besetting sin—something we’ve lived with so long we can’t imagine life without it. The Lord’s question still stands:
Do you want to be made well?
The Lord can set us free, but He won’t force freedom on someone who doesn’t want it.
The same is true for assemblies. Sometimes meetings settle into routine, business as usual. The question is the same:
Do you want to be made well?
The man responds, “Sir, I have no man.” He needed a friend—but he was speaking to the greatest Friend anyone could have.
Jesus said to him:
“Rise, take up thy bed, and walk.”
That’s an impossible command for someone who hasn’t walked in thirty-eight years. But whenever the Lord commands something impossible, He supplies the power to obey.
Immediately, the man was made whole. No therapy. No relearning how to walk. Complete and perfect healing.
And then we’re told, “On the same day was the sabbath.” Instead of rejoicing, the legalists say, “It is not lawful for thee to carry thy bed.”
Law has no joy. Grace rejoices in restoration.
Later, Jesus tells the man, “Sin no more, lest a worse thing come unto thee.” Worse than thirty-eight years of frustration? Yes—eternal separation from God.
When accused of breaking the Sabbath, Jesus replies:
“My Father worketh hitherto, and I work.”
Because of sin, God’s rest was interrupted. The Father is working, and the Son is working—bringing about a new creation.
The Jews understood exactly what He meant. He was making Himself equal with God. Their deduction was right. Their response was wrong.
So I want to ask the question one more time:
Wilt thou be made whole?
“If the Son therefore shall make you free, ye shall be free indeed.” There is no need to live in bondage. The Lord has come to set men free.
Ultimately, humanity will be divided into two groups: those who received Him and those who received Him not. To receive Him is to believe on His name.
I received the Lord Jesus Christ on the 16th of June, 1981, in my bedroom in Leeds, England. My life has never been the same since. I hope you have received Him too.
Let us pray.