Today’s readings immerse us in the motif of water as a symbol of divine restoration. In Ezekiel’s vision, we witness a miraculous transformation: a trickle from the temple of the Lord multiplies into a river so abundant that it brings life wherever it flows. This water not only renews barren landscapes but also makes the salt sea fresh—a testament to the overwhelming power of God’s presence.
In the Gospel of John, we encounter another body of water: the pool of Bethesda, surrounded by those seeking healing. One man, who has been ill for 38 years, tells Jesus he has no one to put him into the pool. He remains paralyzed not only by his condition but also by his unwavering belief that the pool is his sole path to healing. Jesus, however, does not require the man to reach the water. Instead, Jesus himself becomes the source of the man’s healing, saying simply, “Rise, take up your mat, and walk” (John 5:8).
Together, these readings suggest that while God’s grace sometimes arrives like a rushing river, it may also come in quieter forms—perhaps in a single question, command, or encounter. The man at the pool waited for decades, believing that healing required him to move toward the divine. But in Christ, the divine moved toward him. In the Gospel, Jesus reveals himself as the new temple, the source of living water.
These readings invite us to reexamine our assumptions about where and how grace appears. As we continue through Lent, may we remain attentive not only to the obvious signs of God’s love but also to the subtler ways in which Christ draws near to meet us—often not in the places we expect, but precisely where we are.
