Article January 2, 1926 Issue

Farther In, or Out of Material Belief

ARTHUR TIPTON STEWART

In the fifth chapter of the Gospel according to John we read of a pool of water called Bethesda. Its setting was surely not such as to charm the eye, because it was close by the sheep market. And in so pastoral a community as that which surrounded Jerusalem we can picture it as a busy and unattractive spot. It may have resounded all the day with the clamor of those who bargained there. Yet throngs of people were attracted thither because popular belief credited the waters of the pool with remarkable curative properties. We read that "an angel went down at a certain season into the pool, and troubled the water: whosoever then first after the troubling of the water stepped in was made whole of whatsoever disease he had." Jealous of its beliefs, the so-called human mind has long been inclined to invest its remedial agencies with the strange and unusual, and, as we learn, with the impossible as well.

We are left in ignorance of the frequency of the recurrence of this "certain season," and whether or not there was anything to herald its approach; but the promise it held was so great we can readily understand that "a great multitude of impotent folk, of blind, halt, withered," were gathered in anticipation of that event, and alert to be the fortunate first one to enter the pool. Among them we identify the one who had had an infirmity for thirty-eight years, and who had been so constantly disappointed. We do not know through how many of these certain seasons he had lain there; but always, as he strove to reach the water, hampered by his physical limitations, some one else pressed in ahead of him. And yet, alternating between hope and despair, struggling forward and falling back again, he lingered there with apparently no thought of any other mode of relief. Into this scene Jesus of Nazareth entered; and his clear understanding of man created in the image and likeness of his Maker freed this sufferer.

It is interesting to note that this pool was surrounded by five porches. Is it nothing more than a mere coincidence that the number of these porches, or means of entrance to the pool, is identical with that of the physical senses? Rather, have we not in this narrative a clear and compelling presentation of certain phases of mortal existence and endeavor? Here we see one bound and restrained by the limitations of matter, yet seeking satisfaction through that same matter as believed in by the physical or corporeal senses—an age-old, futile undertaking. How well have we known him, and how much of his experiences have been ours also! We do not fail to recognize in them the elements of a sense of human responsibility, tiresome waiting, doubt, discouragement, disappointment, and all the long train of unprofitable things that bear them kinship. Mrs. Eddy tells us in our textbook, "Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures" (p. 489), that "corporeal sense defrauds and lies." That is a true statement, as true in this day and of us as it was in Jesus' time and of the impotent man.

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