The text this morning is from the Gospel according to Mark, the 6th chapter:
Immediately he made his disciples get into the boat and go before him to the other side, to Bethsaida, while he dismissed the crowd. And after he had taken leave of them, he went up on the mountain to pray. And when evening came, the boat was out on the sea, and he was alone on the land. And he saw that they were making headway painfully, for the wind was against them. And about the fourth watch of the night he came to them, walking on the sea. He meant to pass by them, but when they saw him walking on the sea they thought it was a ghost, and cried out, for they all saw him and were terrified. But immediately he spoke to them and said, “Take heart; it is I. Do not be afraid.” And he got into the boat with them, and the wind ceased. And they were utterly astounded, for they did not understand about the loaves, but their hearts were hardened. When they had crossed over, they came to land at Gennesaret and moored to the shore. And when they got out of the boat, the people immediately recognized him and ran about the whole region and began to bring the sick people on their beds to wherever they heard he was. And wherever he came, in villages, cities, or countryside, they laid the sick in the marketplaces and implored him that they might touch even the fringe of his garment. And as many as touched it were made well.Thus far the text.
My dear friends in Christ,
We had just moved to Wisconsin when my phone beeped at me. Eli was just one, had just started walking, and I was a stay-at-home dad for a while there. We were planning on going to Port Washington, down to the walkway near the bandshell which goes right along the lake. We’d never been there before, and I was looking forward to getting his toes in the sand. But, when I looked at my phone, I saw an advisory for Lake Michigan. The waves were big. Eh, I thought. What kind of advisory could be that bad? We headed down there and as Eli toddled down the walkway, I looked over the breakwall and saw waves the size of which I hadn’t seen since the hurricane went through Hawaii. Eli held my hand after that and I wouldn’t let him go.
Those are the kind of waves that Jesus looked down and saw from the mountain. The Sea of Galilee isn’t all that deep and it’s kind of in a depression, so the wind tends to stoke up the waves to incredible heights for an inland lake. It can get quite dangerous. Jesus saw those dangerous waves striking at the boat He had set His disciples off in. You would expect Jesus to almost run down the mountain, run over the top of the water, and stop the waves to help His disciples.
Instead, you kind of get the picture from today’s text that Jesus is taking His own sweet time. He saw the disciples somewhere around the evening, like when it just starts to think about getting dark. And He does nothing. In fact, He waits until somewhere between three and six in the morning and then He sets out on the water. They’ve been struggling for hours and hours, either setting a sail or trying to row and it’s hard and it’s dangerous and it’s tiring. The text says they were straining to go forward because the wind was against them. And here comes Jesus, almost like He’s casually strolling along the top of the water, hands clasped behind His back, whistling a little sea shanty.
And it doesn’t say He was out there to get them, it says that He intended to pass them up. He wasn’t going to stop, He was just going to walk right by them. See you on the other side, fellas! Maybe Jesus is a bit mean here. His disciples have been working incredibly hard after working incredibly hard all day while learning great truths of doctrine. They’re tired, they’re exhausted, they’re ready to give up, and Jesus just means to pass them by. Meanwhile, they’re going crazy and they see this guy on the water and they think He’s a phantasm or a ghost. Not a dead guy come back to life, per se, but a spirit of some kind, probably, they think, there to do them harm. In fact, it probably was an old wives’ tale even then, like a black cat, like walking under a ladder, like breaking a mirror, seeing a phantasm on the water, especially when you’re already struggling is like a disaster waiting to happen.
It’s not like Jesus wasn’t aware of this, and still, doing a miraculous thing like strolling across the water with huge waves all around Him, He decides to walk by the boat and beat them to the other side while they freak out that they’re going to die. And it’s not like Jesus didn’t know, but it becomes clear to Him that these men, despite all that they’ve seen so far, still didn’t understand what was going on.
Last week, we mentioned the word “recapitulation.” This is where Jesus is basically reliving the life of Israel in the Old Testament: going in and out of Egypt, being tempted by Satan along the borders of the Promised Land, feeding the people in the desert. Even Jesus now walking on the water is a recapitulation. Instead, however, of Israel crossing the sea on dry ground, Jesus just crosses the sea. He’s not swimming; He’s walking across it. And Jesus has been teaching His disciples for months, if not years now; they were supposed to get it. But, what does Mark say? Their hearts were hardened.
Perhaps they thought they could do life by themselves. Perhaps they thought they were all that. Perhaps they thought they were just that special. They didn’t understand the idea about the loaves; maybe they just thought it was a magic trick. Any way you slice it, they had hardened their hearts to no understanding who Jesus is and what He was doing. If they had understood, or if they had placed themselves in the right position, they would have seen that it wasn’t an omen for them that Jesus was walking on the water, but a great comfort that their Lord was not only refulfilling the life of Israel, but also could do whatever He wanted and, therefore, they would be safe and secure, no matter what else could happen.
Think about it. Jesus and the disciples are in the midst of these huge waves, breaking across the bow of the disciples’ ship, and doing nothing more than providing a lift up for Jesus as He strode across them. For the disciples, danger and disaster loomed with every crash; yet, for Jesus, there was no danger for all things are subject under His feet. There is the expectation that the disciples should have understood this. They should have gotten it. Instead, they continued to strive against the waves, instead they worried for their own safety, instead they trusted in omens rather than their Jesus.
This is us, too. According to our flesh, we’d rather strive for greatness, rather strive for our own power. Watching a three-year old gives you a brand new understanding of this. Eli insists on getting his own toothbrush out of the cupboard where we keep it, getting the toothpaste onto the brush, and brushing his teeth on his own. The problem is this: he literally can do none of those things yet. He needs us to pick him up to grab the toothbrush, to open and squeeze the toothpaste, to make sure he brushes inside his teeth. He continues to demand to do things for himself that he’s just not capable of doing. We’re all like some three-year old, except that we keep demanding to be able to pick ourselves up by our own bootstraps, and really, we can’t even begin to reach them.
We want to prove ourselves righteous. We want to believe we’re good enough, that we can make it on our own. We want to believe that as long as we try, we’ll be okay. We fool ourselves, really. And then all of the sudden, the omen appears, like you’re jinxing a perfect game just by saying “perfect game.” You’re doing alright on your own, you think, and then something happens. Maybe a loved one dies, or maybe you get pulled over by the cops. Maybe your favorite TV show gets canceled. Either way, you start looking at life through different lenses, and it stinks. Everything’s garbage and you just don’t even care anymore.
The disciples were no different than you. And they needed what you need. They needed their Jesus to speak to them, to remind them of who He is. And if you don’t know Greek, you probably missed exactly what it was Jesus said. We translate it as, “Take heart; it is I. Do not be afraid.” But that’s not what He says. Instead, He says, “θαρσεῖτε, ἐγώ εἰμι. μὴ φοβεῖσθε.” That means, “Take courage; I AM. Fear not.” I AM. The great name of God Himself. Jesus is telling His disciples that He is the Lord. He is God. He is the One who created the wind and the waves, and He even proves it that when He steps into the boat, it all ceases and they can cross with ease.
Jesus says the same to you: Take courage. I AM. Fear not. And He says these things to you through His Word and His Sacraments. Take courage. He is in charge, for He created all. He is I AM. What or who can come against His might? Fear not. For He is with you even unto the end of the age. Take courage, I have forgiven all of your sin. I AM and I come to you through the means I have given you to trust. Fear not for I hold you always in my hand and I will bring you to myself.
Sometimes, it seems like Jesus is just going to pass us by, right? We feel alone or tired or lost. Everything is going wrong, and honestly, it just would be easier if the phantasmic omen came up and we just crashed. But, when it seems Jesus is letting us alone, when it seems like He’s not doing anything, that is when we have to look, not at our hearts, but what He’s already told us and who He’s demonstrated Himself to be. When Jesus got in the boat, near the disciples, the waves stopped and the disciples were amazed, yet crossed in safety. At the end of the passage today, it tells us that just coming near to Jesus’ garments healed those who were sick. They actually didn’t even have to touch Him; just Jesus coming near to them was enough. And so it is with us. Yet, we not only have Jesus come near to us, but we have Him placed in our ears and on our tongues. He is nearer to us than near, and through that He makes us well.
Our hearts on their own condemn us, they want to harden themselves against that which Christ is doing. Yet, because we have been given faith, our hearts can now be open, not just to accept that God always is in control, not just to accept that Jesus cares for us, but also that we know that, by God coming near to us through Word and Sacrament, we might be made well. And not just made healthy, but saved.
Our wicked hearts are made well again, trusting in the work of our Savior. Our wicked hearts are saved from death forever by His death upon the cross. And we are given the promise of being made well for eternity in the resurrection from the dead. The reality is that no matter how large the waves were for the disciples, no matter how greatly we are suffering or drowning in this life, the harshness of this life affected by sin compares nothing to the compassion of Jesus, who comes near to us, not passing us by, but rescuing us, for He is the Great I AM and He has given Himself over for you, that you might be made well. In Jesus’ name, amen.
Now may the peace of God which passes all human understanding guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus, our Lord! Amen.
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