BETHESDA

"Rise," said Jesus. "Rise, take up thy bed,
And walk." The sick man rose,
For he alone of those
Who lay within the porches of the pool
Could hear the Master's word, in pity sped.

No more for him the disappointed prayer
And resignation's pain,
Who long had helpless lain,
The victim of beliefs both false and cruel.
Departing from the pool, he left them there.

Through porches of the mortal sense there steals
Into the pool of thought,
In earthborn image wrought,
The brood of evils that afflict mankind
And seek to hide the eternal Truth which heals.

Not in Bethesda's pool is healing found,
But in the precious Word,
Still spoken by our Lord,
That turns the thought from seeming laws that bind
To learn that man, God's likeness, lives unbound.

Meredith Russell

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Editorial
WHAT OF OUR METAPHYSICAL WORK FOR CHURCH?
February 28, 1948
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