Ah, look at all the lonely people

Good morning! Today I am wondering: how could Stefan not know Jesus? I mean, surely he had heard of Him, right? Thirty-eight years at the pool, surrounded by fellow-sufferers, and to top it off, all of them were waiting for an angel to come and stir the waters. Surely if they believed in angels then they had to have heard of the Christ! Right?

Sadly, no. Take a look at the religions we have in our lives today. I am no expert on them so don't worry about us examining them. You're welcome! But in all seriousness, let's ponder for a moment the things people believe in to make their lives better. The Catholics believe in Mother Mary, rosary beads, and priests to get their requests to heaven known. If they just pray enough then perhaps God will forgive them of their sins, or say enough "Hail Marys" and do such-and-such penance then they may be absolved, right? As if!

Sorry, but the ludicrousness of this makes me scoff out loud! But yet...

Yet there were times in my young life I wished I could go to a closet and tell someone all of the bad things I had done, my impure thoughts, the evil I felt in my heart and then have that man tell me what to do to have peace. I longed for the washing of absolution because I felt so dirty inside from the deeds I had done and those I wished I could do. I had this friend in college who was a Catholic. She and her boyfriend always wanted to borrow my station wagon so they could go...well, you know. I worried about her and asked her if she was at least using birth control. Her outraged response? Catholics don't believe in birth control! I wondered: how can she get away with premarital sex and it be okay and yet not be wise and protect herself from an unwanted pregnancy?

Anyway, let's get to Stefan. There he was, day after day, year after year, decade after decade. Surrounded but so all alone. The Beatles sang a tune way back when, "Eleanor Rigby," that starts off with this phrase: "Ah look at all the lonely people. Ah look at all the lonely people." It speaks of Eleanor, a lonely woman just waiting for someone to visit her and who attended weddings just to be close to someone. It also tells of Father McKenzie who performs sermons and then later Eleanor's funeral--both of which no one attended. I wonder how many priests and Pharisees visited the Pool of Bethesda? Wonder how many Jehovah's Witnesses came by? Surely they must have left some of their literature behind for those captive witnesses to peruse later since they had little else to do?

Do I sound sarcastic? Judgmental? I don't want to. Sort of. I'm really having a hard time with understanding how Stefan could so easily place his faith in an angel but not know of Jesus Christ. I'm exploring in my head how in thirty-eight years he had not heard of Jesus. Think about this: while Stefan was lounging at the pool, Jesus was born, raised, and began His ministry. The controversy over Him surely was fodder for daily gossip, right? I mean, the Pool of Bethesda was located in Jerusalem--Jerusalem where so much of Jesus' ministry took place! How could he not know Jesus?!

Sigh. I ask myself the same question. I was brought up in a quasi-Christian home. I attended church fairly regularly as a kid. The elementary school I attended even gave the class kudos if we had all attended church the previous Sunday, such as not having to take a spelling test or extra recess time. My grandmother spoke to me of Jesus every time I saw her. My grandfather kept his large black King James Bible by his table and sent his tithes to our local preacher because he was unable to attend church due to health reasons. Brother Frank had visited with him a few times and as a result, Pop was so impressed that he decided that's where his ten percent should go. I had a white Bible of my own that I had requested one Christmas with my name engraved upon it that I read most nights before bed. But then junior high came and then high school and finally college and my life would not be considered to be one that honored Jesus always. Sometimes. Once in a while? Sigh.

Truthfully, I was so jaded once those college years came around. I had so much head knowledge of biblical things but little real truth in the things that one who has been born again as I claimed should be exhibiting. I was a fence-straddler and the wind blew often. Maybe like Stefan I had heard of Jesus but never thought He'd show up and make me better. Easier to trust in something more realistic happening, like an angel popping by because I...I just wasn't worthy enough for a visit from Christ Himself. No wonder Stefan didn't recognize Jesus as being the One Who had healed him. Men like Stefan (and women like me) don't deserve such royal treatment, do we? And once we receive it, we don't often realize what we've been given until it's later pointed out to us.