12,395 ... In the movie, Groundhog Day, that’s how many times Weatherman Phil Connors woke up to find it was ... still Groundhog Day. That’s how many times Bill Murray's character opened his eyes and discovered he was still in Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania, forced to repeat the same day over and over.
At least, that’s one person’s attempt to calculate just how long Phil was locked up in that same circumstance. Others have suggest other lengths of time. Harold Ramis, the film’s Director, once opined he believed Phil was looping for about 10 years (about 3,650 days). But later, he adjusted the timeframe to “more like 30 or 40 years.”
However you calculate it, that’s a really long time to be trapped in a repetitive nightmare.
Weatherman Phil works his way though various stages in his endless holiday repeat. For the first few repeats, he’s just confused. Eventually, though, he steals, acts maliciously, exploits those around him, indulges every whim and vice. He even kidnaps Punxsutawney Phil (the groundhog) and leads the authorities on a high speed chase. And then, not surprisingly, Phil becomes depressed, so depressed at his inability to break free from the shackles of this seemingly endless redundancy ... he (unsuccessfully) attempts suicide.
Over and over and over.
That’s where the semicolon comes in. When writers decide it’s time to pause, but aren’t ready to end the sentence, they use a semicolon. It’s a way of letting the reader know there’s more to come.
Recently, it has also become a symbol for something positive. Some who have attempted suicide are getting a semicolon tattoo inked onto their skin, often at the site of their last unsuccessful attempt. They wear that tattoo as a way to send a message that this is not the end, to declare they have chosen to continue on; to make it clear to everyone, especially themselves: there’s more to come.
When Jesus encountered the invalid in John chapter five, that man could have used a semicolon in his life. He was living on the edge ... literally, on the edge. He was near the Pool of Bethesda, but not right by the pool. That distance, short as it may have been, meant he could never make it to the water in time to be healed. He had been suffering like that for 38 years. That means he woke up every day for 13,880 days (or more) facing the same horrible existence. And he faced all this, alone. He had no one to help him get to the pool ... 13,880 chances of never being healed.
That’s a very long time to be stuck in what surely seems like an endless loop. A person could easily, would likely in time (which day, I wonder?), become depressed. Surely anyone in his situation would “want to be made well.” This man had been living this way for something like 14,000 days, relief just a few feet away. And yet, it might as well had been miles away for all the good it did him. He could not break out of his endless loop.
Is it any wonder he couldn’t answer Jesus, directly?
That’s what happens to a lot of people. They have lived so long in their struggle, they can no longer recognize hope when it appears before them. After so many days, weeks, and years of no relief, their faith has worn thin.
For this man, though, Jesus inserted a semicolon.
Jesus did not just heal the man. He sent him on his way. The message was clear. The man was not to linger at that location any longer. His situation had changed. He was to continue on. After 38 years of endless days, suddenly there was more to come.
A lot has been written about this passage. Many have weighed in on its meaning and its purpose for our lives. For me, the message is simple: regardless of our circumstance, Jesus brings a semicolon to our lives. We are to continue on.
There’s more to come.
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PHOTO: Steve Orr
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READINGS FOR THE COMING WEEK
Sixth Sunday of Easter (May 26, 2019)
https://lectionary.library.vanderbilt.edu//
Acts 16:9-15
Psalm 67
Revelation 21:10, 22-22:5
John 14:23-29 or John 5:1-9
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