In the multitude he lay there
|In the multitude he lay there
With a sickness many years;
Impotent and lying helpless,
Ever fraught with many fears.
Waiting for the water's moving,
Waiting for the angel's stir;
Powerless to move, however,
Helpless, hopeless, lying there.
|At this pool how clear the picture
Of the hopeless case of all
Who are seeking self-perfection
To recover from the fall.
Though the law is good and holy,
Flesh, to keep the law, is dead;
What we need is not religion,
But the Word of life instead.
|Though it's feast day, he's not happy,
Though the Sabbath, there's no rest;
Lying in his poor condition,
Miserable and sore depressed.
At that moment Jesus saw him,
Knowing he was thus so long.
"Will you be made whole?" He asked him,
"Healed and walking, well and strong?"
|Though he told his hopeless story,
Scarce believing what he'd heard,
Yet, soon to his feet arising,
He received the living word.
This is all our situation,
We—like him—were lying there
In the sheep-fold of religion,
Under law's prevailing care.
|While we yet were weak and helpless,
Christ the Son of God did come.
By His word we're now enlivened;
He's the life-imparting One!
Hallelujah for this Jesus,
He's the Word of life to men;
From law's bondage He releases,
Death is turned to life again!