Read: John 5:1–9
When Jesus saw him lying there and knew that he had already been there a long time, he said to him, “Do you want to be healed?” — John 5:6 (ESV)
This man wasn’t just sick. He was weary.
Thirty-eight years of waiting can do something to a soul. It doesn’t just wear down the body—it wears down hope. Every day, he lay by the pool, surrounded by others in pain, watching for a miracle that never seemed to come. His story had settled into silence. No movement. No breakthrough. Just more of the same.
Then Jesus came near.
Jesus didn’t offer a pep talk or a quick fix. He asked a question: “Do you want to be healed?” It feels startling—maybe even offensive. But Jesus wasn’t being cruel. He was inviting this man—and us—into honest desire, not just for comfort, but for wholeness.
Sometimes it’s easier to adjust to disappointment than to believe again. We learn to function in dysfunction, to protect ourselves with passivity, to stay stuck because at least it’s predictable. We may not say it out loud, but deep down, we’ve stopped expecting anything to change.
But Jesus speaks directly into those places. He bypasses the excuses and awakens the will. And when He says, “Get up,” it’s not a demand—it’s a declaration. His Word carries the very power to do what it commands.
Application:
What part of your life have you grown numb to—believing it will always be this way? What would it mean to respond to Jesus not with excuses, but with a heart open to healing?
Prayer:
Jesus, I’ve grown tired of hoping. I’ve adjusted to stuck places and called them normal. But I don’t want to stay here. Speak into the places I’ve written off, and stir in me the faith to rise. Amen.
Read: John 5:10–18
“So the Jews said to the man who had been healed, ‘It is the Sabbath, and it is not lawful for you to take up your bed.’” – John 5:10 (ESV)
Imagine this: You’re walking for the first time in nearly four decades. Muscles firing. Heart pounding. Legs that had never moved are now holding you steady. And the first words you hear aren’t joy, wonder, or even curiosity. They're criticism.
“You can’t carry that.”
The miracle wasn’t questioned—but the method was. Because Jesus healed on the Sabbath, and the man dared to walk in freedom on the wrong day.
There will be moments when God calls you out of something familiar—something stuck or broken—and people around you just won’t get it. They’ll question your timing. Your choices. Your passion. Sometimes, obeying Jesus means disappointing the expectations of people you care about. And that hurts.
But Jesus doesn’t shrink back. He responds with a bold, almost defiant clarity: “My Father is still working… and so am I.” He wasn’t breaking the Sabbath—He was redefining it. The religious leaders were obsessed with rules. Jesus was focused on restoration, on redemption.
If you’re following Jesus, at some point, your obedience will make someone uncomfortable. It may feel like rejection. It might stir up fear. But here’s what’s true: You don’t belong to the crowd. You belong to Christ. And if He says, “Get up,” then you don’t have to explain your miracle to anyone.
Application:
Where are you feeling misunderstood in your walk with Jesus? Are you carrying something He healed—but others are trying to make you hide?
Prayer:
Jesus, I want to follow You with boldness, even when it’s unpopular or misunderstood. Help me trade people-pleasing for obedience. You’re the One who healed me—let Your voice be louder than all the rest. Amen.
Read: John 5:17–23
But Jesus answered them, “My Father is working until now, and I am working.” This was why the Jews were seeking all the more to kill him, because not only was he breaking the Sabbath, but he was even calling God his own Father, making himself equal with God.
…That all may honor the Son, just as they honor the Father. Whoever does not honor the Son does not honor the Father who sent him. (John 5:17–18, 23)
Jesus had just healed a man paralyzed for nearly four decades—but the miracle wasn’t the headline anymore. His words were.
When challenged for doing this on the Sabbath, Jesus doesn't defend His timing—He reveals His identity: “My Father is working… and I am working.” And in that sentence, everything shifts.
They understood what He meant. So should we.
Jesus wasn’t simply saying He came from God—He was claiming to be equal with God. The religious leaders didn’t miss it. They wanted Him dead for it.
This moment isn’t just about a Sabbath rule—it’s about the shattering reality of who’s standing in front of them. God has a name. A voice. A face. And it’s Jesus.
This isn't a gentle introduction; it's a collision course with divinity. Jesus declares that He is worthy of the same honor as the Father. That to reject Him is to reject God altogether.
This is where comfortable faith gets uncomfortable. You can’t reduce Jesus to a good teacher, a wise prophet, or a spiritual influencer. He doesn't let you. He demands worship.
So now the question is ours to answer:
Will we honor Him as He truly is? Or try to shrink Him down to who we want Him to be?
Application:
Where have you made Jesus safe, small, or convenient?
What would change if you truly honored Him as equal with the Father—Lord over every part of your life?
Prayer:
Jesus, I confess I’ve tried to manage You—to keep You in a place that doesn’t disrupt my plans. But You are not manageable. You are God. You are worthy. Help me not to just admire You, but to worship You with all that I am. Let me live like You truly are who You say You are. Amen.
Read: John 5:24–29
“Truly, truly, I say to you, whoever hears my word and believes him who sent me has eternal life. He does not come into judgment, but has passed from death to life. Truly, truly, I say to you, an hour is coming, and is now here, when the dead will hear the voice of the Son of God, and those who hear will live… Do not marvel at this, for an hour is coming when all who are in the tombs will hear his voice and come out...” (John 5:24–25, 28–29)
Jesus doesn’t whisper here—He declares. And He says it twice to make sure we’re awake: “Truly, truly...” In other words: Pay attention. Eternity is on the line.
If you hear His voice and believe in the One who sent Him, you’re not just promised eternal life—you have it. Right now. Not after you die. Not once you get your act together. The moment you believe, you move from death to life. That’s the gospel.
But Jesus goes further—He tells us that a day is coming when every grave will break open. Every person who has ever died will hear His voice—and rise. Some will rise to life. Others to judgment. One voice, two eternities.
There’s no middle ground.
The same voice that called Lazarus out of the tomb is the voice that will call your name one day. And whether you rise to joy or rise to judgment will come down to one question: Did you trust Him while you were still breathing?
This isn’t about being religious. It’s about resurrection.
Eternal life doesn’t start someday—it starts the moment you say yes and surrender to Jesus.
Application:
Are you living like someone who’s already crossed from death to life?
Or are you still waiting to follow Jesus—hoping there’s more time?
Prayer:
Jesus, Your voice brings life. Speak into the places in me that are still dead. Wake up my heart. Help me live with eternity in mind—grateful, grounded, and alive to You. I don’t want to waste another day. Amen.
Read: John 5:30–38
“I can do nothing on my own. As I hear, I judge, and my judgment is just, because I seek not my own will but the will of him who sent me… The works that the Father has given me to accomplish… bear witness about me that the Father has sent me. And the Father who sent me has himself borne witness about me.” (John 5:30, 36–37)
Jesus stands before them—God in the flesh, the long-awaited Messiah—and instead of worship, He receives cold scrutiny. Their minds are full of Scripture, their hands are full of rules, but their hearts are hollow.
And so He speaks—not to crush, but to call.
Jesus lays out the evidence like a courtroom defense: the voice of John the Baptist, the miracles done in plain sight, the very testimony of the Father. He doesn’t raise His voice. He raises the stakes. “You’ve seen. You’ve heard. What more do you need?”
But they wouldn’t see. Not because the truth was hidden—but because their hearts were already closed. They were standing inches from glory—and still missed it.
It’s terrifying how easy it is to be religiously active but spiritually asleep.
To know about Jesus, sing to Him, serve in His name… and still not recognize Him when He walks into the room.
They wanted control. Jesus wanted surrender.
They wanted rules. Jesus came with relationship.
They wanted a Messiah who fit their mold. Jesus broke it.
And here’s the heartbreak: you can spend your life around sacred things and still miss the Savior.
You can memorize the Word of God and still miss the voice of God.
Spurgeon called it “gospel-hardened”—so familiar with the truth that it no longer moves you. And nothing’s more dangerous than a heart that knows all the answers but has stopped listening.
Application:
Have you grown numb to the nearness of Jesus?
Are you seeking control when He’s calling you to surrender?
Prayer:
Jesus, shake me if I’ve grown cold. Let me feel again. Let me see again. Don’t let me settle for knowing about You when You’ve invited me to know You deeply. Strip away the pride, the performance, the routine—and lead me back to wonder. I don’t want to miss You. Amen.
Read: John 5:39–47
“You search the Scriptures because you think that in them you have eternal life; and it is they that bear witness about me, yet you refuse to come to me that you may have life… I know that you do not have the love of God within you... If you believed Moses, you would believe me; for he wrote of me.” (John 5:39–40, 42, 46)
They knew the Book. But they missed the Author.
These were the people who had devoted their entire lives to the Scriptures. They didn’t just read the Word of God—they studied it, copied it, and taught it. But Jesus says something staggering: “You search the Scriptures thinking that’s where life is… but they point to Me. And you still won’t come.”
They were standing in the presence of the very One the Bible was written about… and they couldn’t recognize Him.
Why?
Because they didn’t want a Savior—they wanted validation.
They weren’t after transformation—they wanted affirmation of what they already believed.
And when Jesus didn’t fit their mold, they turned their backs on the God they claimed to love.
This is one of the most haunting warnings in all of Scripture: you can have a Bible in your hand and still not have Jesus in your heart.
He doesn’t say they’re ignorant—He says they’re unwilling. Not unable to believe—but refusing to. Because the truth costs too much.
This passage aches with more sorrow than anger. Jesus isn’t just confronting them—He’s grieving over them. His words are tender but devastating: “I know that you do not have the love of God within you.”
It’s possible to be religiously informed and spiritually empty.
It’s possible to know theology and miss the Truth.
It’s possible to come to church and never come to Jesus.
Application:
Have you settled for a faith built on knowledge instead of love?
Is there any place where you’re refusing to come closer—because deep down, you don’t want to surrender?
Prayer:
Jesus, I don’t want to study You from a distance. I want to know You. Really know You. Forgive me for settling for facts without faith, for religion without relationship. Break down the walls in me that resist surrender. Amen.
Read: John 5:40
“You refuse to come to me that you may have life.” (John 5:40)
John 5 is more than a miracle story. It’s a warning wrapped in grace.
A man crippled for thirty-eight years is healed with a single sentence. A crowd watches it unfold. The religious leaders investigate. But instead of rejoicing, they recoil. Instead of faith, they respond with fury.
Why? Because Jesus didn’t fit their expectations.
He healed on the wrong day. He claimed the wrong authority. He made Himself equal with God.
And that’s when the truth surfaces: they weren’t after healing. They weren’t even after God. They were after control. And when the Son of God stood in front of them—radiating power, mercy, and truth—they refused to come to Him.
That word—refuse—is what cuts deepest. Jesus doesn’t say they couldn’t believe. He says they wouldn’t. It wasn’t a lack of evidence. It was a hardness of heart.
And that’s the tragedy: they were close to everything holy… and still missed Jesus.
So today, we end where Jesus did—not just with conviction, but invitation. The same voice that called the paralyzed man to rise… the same voice that will one day call the dead from their graves… is calling you right now.
Come to Me.
Not to a rulebook.
Not to a performance trap.
Not to religion.
To Me.
Don't miss Him. Not because you're busy. Not because you're afraid. Not because you're too familiar with sacred things to be moved by the sacred One.
Application:
Where have you resisted Jesus because He didn’t move the way you expected?
Are you truly coming to Him—or just trying to clean yourself up around Him?
Prayer:
Jesus, I don’t want to just know about You—I want to know You. Forgive me for every time I’ve stood close but kept my heart distant. Call me again. Break through every wall I’ve built. You are life. You are Lord. And I say yes to You. Amen.
