Jesus Heals a Paralyzed Man at the Pool of Bethesda

Jesse? I'm your brother, Simon. Do you remember me? Simon? You have a brother? They told me I could find you here. Uncle Ram at Abba's funeral. You must be 30 years old. You're not Simon. I'm almost 40. I've been here 25 years. You make the pilgrimage every holiday? Yes. And you knew I was here? Our order forbids coming to the Bullet Batista. I'm your brother. This place is a pagan cult. Since when do cults bother you? I was embarrassed for you. Do you really believe in this? You try living with 38 years without like that work. And then tell me you wouldn't try anything and everything. Why wouldn't you at least come by once and carry me into the water? You could have tried. It is not in our God's nature to pit sick people against each other in a twisted game. I won't play it with you. Is it in our God's nature that his children would slit each other's throats? Have you no regard for the commandment that we shall not take another's life? You and I, we both know the scriptures. There's a time to kill and a time to heal. A time to break down and a time to build up. The land must be purged. And what about our family? Are we to be purged too? You left me. You left all of us. I left you to save you. Do I look saved to you? I can't believe it. You are worse than you used to be. My legs are the same as when you left. I'm not talking about your legs. I'm talking about you. This God-forsaken place has turned my strong brother into someone hopeless. And where should I hope him? After all these years? You and your murderous kind. Jesse, it's killed me to watch you suffer in your life. And I am sorry. I truly am. But that's not the only kind of pain. And you're not the only one who feels it. But you know what? I am at least doing something about mine. And I'm not sitting in a bed waiting to die. Have you said all you need to say? I just wanted to say goodbye. Because I didn't do it right the first time. I do love you. This is what all the fuss is about. An oversized mikveh. I have a feeling we haven't seen it all yet. That's him. Who? Him. The one who's been here the longest. But doesn't belong. A sad one. Why do I get the feeling this isn't just a meeting? Do we need to be on the lookout? No. Now stay with me and watch. Shalom. Me? Yes. Shalom. I have a question for you. For me. I don't have many answers. But I'm listening. Do you want to be healed? Who are you? We'll get to that later. But my question remains. Will you take me to the water? Look, I'm having a really bad day. You've been having a bad day for a long time. So? Sir, I have no one to help me into the water when it's stirred up. And when I do get close, the others step down in front of me. Look at me. That's not what I asked. I'm not asking you about who's helping you. Or who's not helping. Or who's getting in your way. I'm asking about you. I've tried. For a long time. You don't want false hope again, I understand. But this pool. It has nothing for you. It means nothing. And you know it. But you're still here. Why? Do you want to be healed? So let's go. Get up. Pick up your mat. And walk. I'm free to walk, like he said. Don't forget your bed. Why does this matter? Because you're not coming back here. That life is over. Everything changes now.