Epiphany XII: Bethesda — Where the Threads Are Braided

Many stories weave in and out — like a woman’s braided hair.

An author may begin at one point to draw the reader in, then return to what came before, or move ahead, revealing what could not be seen at first.

For some truths cannot be told all at once— they must be uncovered slowly, as the reader comes to know the characters as they come to know one another, and themselves.

At the well bequeathed to Joseph, belonging to the people of Samaria, a man and a woman met in the open, sharing a common cup.

As they spoke, it became clear that one was a Jew and the other a Samaritan. And this attracted attention, for Jews and Samaritans were not to share anything personal with one another — especially not in public.

Yet when his disciples returned, they said nothing.

And when the Woman got up and went into the city and said, “Come and see…many of the Samaritans from that town believed in Jesus because of her testimony: “He told me everything I ever did.”

Sometime later, Jesus appears in Jerusalem, standing outside the Sheep Gate, by a pool — called Bethesda, or Kolymbethra, a place of deep water, by those — Jew and Samaritan alike — who spoke Greek.

Here, beside the water, many lay waiting — the sick, the blind, the lame, the paralyzed. Each one hoped to be the first to enter when the water stirred — and receive salvation.

Among them was one who had been an invalid for thirty-eight years — unable to walk freely in public, a cripple in the eyes of those who passed by. But how was this known?

For when Jesus sees this person lying there, he realizes that this person has been suffering for thirty-eight years. But how would Jesus know a personal detail such as this?

Was he simply clairvoyant?

Or did he recognize this person as a Samaritan?

For it was unlawful for Jews and Samaritans to associate with each other, and this law had kept Jews and Samaritans apart — suffering, a burden borne across thirty-eight generations.

Upon seeing this person at this pool.

Jesus says:
Do you want to get well?

“Sir,” the invalid replied,
“I have no one to help me into the pool when the water is stirred. While I am on my way, someone else goes in before me.“

Then Jesus told her,
“Get up, pick up your mat, and walk.”

Immediately the man was made well — and she picked up her mat and began to walk.

Now this happened on the Sabbath day, so the Jews said to the man who had been healed, “This is the Sabbath! It is unlawful for you to carry your mat.”

For to carry a mat was to carry a burden — and by the law as it was interpreted, no burden was to be borne on the Sabbath.

Yet here, the healed one — carrying her mat in public on the Sabbath —is singled out as a sinner.

So in response to this charge, she answered:
The man who made me well told me, “Pick up your mat and walk.”

“Who is this man who told you to pick it up and walk?” they asked.

But the one who had been healed did not know who it was, for Jesus had slipped away while the crowd was there.

Did she truly not know? Or did she simply not want to betray him? Or had she suddenly realized that by saying “he told me,” she was implying that he had led her to break the law — like the serpent who had tempted Eve.

Later, Jesus found her in the Temple and said.
“See, you have been made well, Stop sinning, or something worse may happen to you.”

Then the man went away and told the Jews that it was Jesus who had made her well.

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This is the twelfth in a series of Epiphany reflections paving the way for the Cross.

Now in Holy Week, the next Epiphany reflection turns to John 7:38, as Jesus proclaims that whoever believes in him will later receive the Spirit — through whom streams of living water will flow from within.

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