CHRISTOS VOSKRESE, CHRIST IS RISEN, CHRISTOS ANESTI
In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
My beloved brothers and sisters in Christ,
Today, on this radiant Fourth Sunday after Holy Pascha, the Church draws our attention to the account of the healing of the paralysed man by the pool of Bethesda. It is a scene filled with human suffering, divine compassion, and transformative grace. Set within the liturgical period of the Resurrection, this Gospel teaches us not only about physical healing but about the deeper liberation Christ offers to every soul bound by sin, despair, and spiritual paralysis.
The passage from the Gospel according to Saint John (5:1–15) places us near the Sheep Gate in Jerusalem, at a pool called Bethesda, which in Hebrew means “House of Mercy.” Five porticoes surround it, beneath which lie a multitude of sick people: the blind, the lame, and the paralysed, waiting for the stirring of the water. For at certain times, an angel is said to descend and disturb the surface of the pool, and whoever first steps in after the stirring is healed of their disease.
Among them lies a man who has been paralysed for thirty-eight years. When Jesus sees him lying there, He asks him a question that seems almost rhetorical: “Do you want to be made well?” The man does not answer directly. Instead, he laments: “Sir, I have no man to put me into the pool when the water is stirred up, but while I am coming, another steps down before me.”
In response to this cry of abandonment, Christ speaks with divine authority: “Rise, take up your bed and walk.” Immediately, the man is made well, takes up his bed, and walks.
This Gospel account is not simply a story of physical healing. It is a revelation of Christ’s divine identity and of the spiritual transformation He brings.
Saint John Chrysostom teaches that the Lord’s question, “Do you want to be made well?” is not asked out of ignorance but for the sake of the listeners. Christ draws attention to the man’s endurance and longing. His question stirs the will, which is the first movement toward healing. Chrysostom writes, “He asked not to learn, but to teach us that perseverance attracts divine mercy.”
The paralytic’s response, “I have no man,” is the anguished cry of humanity in its fallen state. It is a confession that neither law nor ritual, neither angel nor priest, can bring salvation without the personal presence of the Saviour. Saint Gregory the Theologian writes that the Law could reveal sin but could not remove it. Only the God-Man, Jesus Christ, who assumed our humanity, could descend into our weakness and command us to rise.
Saint Augustine interprets the five porticoes as symbolising the five books of Moses, which, while holy, could not heal. The angelic stirring of the water points to the intermittent and partial grace under the old covenant. Now, Christ Himself appears as the ever-present source of healing and life.
Why does the Church appoint this Gospel reading during the Paschal season? Because the healing of the paralytic reveals the living power of the Resurrection. This man, who had not walked in thirty-eight years, is restored by the word of Christ. Just as Christ rose from the tomb, so this man rises from his bed. His healing is a sign and promise of our own restoration through Christ’s death and resurrection.
The hymns of this Sunday proclaim the same truth. During Matins, we sing:
“O Lord, with divine authority, Thou didst raise up the paralytic at the Sheep’s Pool. Raise up my soul also, which is grievously paralysed by diverse sins and transgressions of life, that being saved, I may cry to Thee: Glory to Thy power, O compassionate Christ.”
Thus, this Gospel is not only a lesson in history. It is a call to each of us in the present moment.
This event took place in Jerusalem, near the Temple, during one of the Jewish feasts, likely Pentecost. The paralytic had waited thirty-eight years, a number that recalls the wanderings of Israel in the wilderness. Just as the Israelites waited for the Promised Land, this man waited for healing.
The pool of Bethesda was part of the Temple complex and held religious significance. Yet it had become a place of resigned suffering. Christ enters this space not to reinforce the limitations of the old order but to fulfil it. No longer must people wait passively for a miracle. The Lord of miracles has come in person.
What does this Gospel say to us today? It speaks to every soul that has ever felt abandoned, helpless, or paralysed by circumstances beyond its control. It speaks to all who have suffered silently, longing for change, yet seeing others go before them.
We are the paralytic. Each of us, in some way, is bound by weakness. It may be sin, fear, addiction, despair, or simply the fatigue of life’s burdens. Like the man in the Gospel, we may have tried many times to heal ourselves. We may have watched others receive what we have longed for. We may have thought, “I have no one.”
But Christ is not absent. He sees what others do not. He does not wait for us to reach Him; He comes to us. He speaks into our situation and offers us the power to rise. His question remains the same: “Do you want to be made well?” This is not merely about physical health. It is about the healing of the soul, the restoration of purpose, and the return to communion with God.
The Lord says, “Rise.” Rise from apathy, from despair, from the habits that bind you. He says, “Take up your bed.” Carry that which once carried you. Bear witness to what He has done. And He says, “Walk.” Move forward in faith, in hope, in the new life He has given you.
Yet Christ’s final words must not be overlooked: “See, you have been made well. Sin no more, lest something worse come upon you.” Healing is a beginning, not an end. It calls us to conversion, to repentance, and to a renewed life of holiness. As Saint Gregory the Great reminds us, “The outward healing is the sign of an inward calling to holiness.”
Today, the Church is our Bethesda. Here, the waters are stirred continually by the Holy Spirit. Unlike the old pool, where only one could be healed at a time, the grace of the Church is limitless. Through the mysteries—baptism, confession, the Holy Eucharist, and anointing—Christ comes to each one of us. The healing He gives is real. The resurrection He offers is ours, here and now.
Let us not delay. Let us not remain lying in our weakness. Let us not say, “I have no one.” Christ is here. The tomb is empty. The Word has been spoken.
Let us rise and walk in newness of life.
Christ is Risen!
✠ Amen.
Copyright © 2025 The Rev. Adrian Augustus. The Russian Orthodox Church of the Archangel Michael, Blacktown, NSW
