Another Classroom Lesson in a Boat
Mark 6:45-56
Ninth Sunday after Pentecost
July 26, 2015
Grace to you and peace from God our Father and from our Lord and
Savior, Jesus Christ. Amen.
Our text, the Gospel account of Jesus walking on water, beginning
with these words: “Immediately he made his disciples get into the
boat and go before him to the other side, to Bethsaida, while he
dismissed the crowd.”
Dear brothers and sisters in Christ,
About four weeks ago, we watched as Jesus left the crowds
and – through the calming of the storm – taught his disciples in the
boat. He went from teaching in ‘the classroom’ to teaching in daily
life. Now he repeats the exercise, this time – after teaching – sending
the disciples ahead in the boat as He dismisses “the class,” you might
say. Jesus’ aim is specific; he knows what he has in store for the
Twelve because – our text begins – He immediately compels them to
get into the boat and go across the lake without him.
This is such a well-known account, we’d do well to take the
time to familiarize ourselves with some specific details that paint the
picture more vividly. We know why Jesus sent the disciples away – it
was because (as John’s gospel says) the crowds were so enamored
with Jesus’ miracle that they wanted to make him a bread-king, and
– to be honest – the disciples would have probably bought into such
false Messianic views quite easily. Jesus needs to remind them that
the promises of God are not about filling bellies, but about God in
the flesh… because Jesus also knows that the crowds – when they
find out the next morning that “Jesus the bread-king” is no longer
among them – will get in their boats and cross the lake and come
find him… his disciples will need to understand it all properly (This is
all pictured in John 6).
So, it’s very possible that when Jesus goes up to the
mountain to pray, he prays to his Father that the Twelve would be
kept from such Messianic bread-king views. And, in order to teach
them the difference between a bread-king Messiah and the Messiah
who is God in the flesh, Jesus has planned for them another teaching
lesson in the boat.
More details mean a more detailed understanding of how
this occasion played out. Notice our text says that “when evening
came, the boat was out on the sea, and he was alone on the land.”
Recall that last week, it was “when evening came” that the disciples
had told Jesus, “This crowd has no food. Send them away.” So, if that
was when early evening came, we are now later into the evening.
The second watch of the night was 9-midnight. Perhaps this is the
time that Jesus was alone on the land and, our text says, “he saw
that they were making headway painfully.”
Now consider what it means that Jesus “saw” their struggle.
Other gospel accounts report that they were about 3.5 stadia out on
2
the sea… a little less than half way across the lake. These
experienced fishermen had been rowing for hours now and had only
made it half way across an 8-mile lake. They were painfully struggling
because the storm was so fierce. And yet, from such a distance,
through such a storm, Jesus “saw” them? This is no mere onlooking
from a mountaintop. You know well that in a heavy downpour, you
can’t see even 10 car-lengths in front of you, let alone halfway across
an 8-mile lake! And yet, Jesus saw their struggle. This was a divine
power of Christ’s… not to see them “in a vision” (as Hollywood might
portray), but to be able, by His divine capabilities, to see them
through the storm, painfully struggling against the winds.
And so, Mark’s gospel records quite plainly, “about the
fourth watch of the night (3-6 a.m.) he came to them, walking on the
sea.” What a sight! The disciples have been struggling in the winds
for as many as nine hours; their boat isn’t making any headway. Yet,
Jesus walks through the storm unfazed, simply taking a stroll along
the top of the water, his feet not levitating above the waters, but
walking on the sea in a way that must have made the waves
perfectly calm as he stepped upon them (as Job once said of God,
“[He] trample[s] the waves of the sea” [9:8b]). That the disciples
thought Christ a ghost implies he was not dripping wet, not shielding
himself from the winds with his hands… simply walking along in
divine serenity.
3
And, the text says, “He meant to pass by them.” Now, this
unusual phrase shows that Jesus is still teaching, that the teaching
has left the classroom lecture and is again being put to practice in
the boat. He meant to walk by, not as though he did not see the
disciples, not feigning ignorance of their plight, but as though he
were putting them to the test: “Have you understood my teaching,
or not? Are you going to call upon me in your trouble, or not?”
And, they do call out… sort of. Mark simply records that they
all thought him a ghost, a phantasma (phantom). But, Christ’s
teaching continues: “Take heart; ego eimi. I AM. The self-ascribed
name of the divine Godhead. It is I – God of God. Messiah in the
flesh. I’m no mere bread-king. I’m God in the flesh. Fear not.”
Mark’s gospel does not record the fact that Peter tries to
take the teaching to new heights and to walk out on the water to
Jesus. Of course, we know that Peter fails miserably, his faith so
little, the promises of Christ so easily forgotten in the midst of the
storm.
The tutoring session ends, and when Jesus gets in the boat
with them, the winds cease. Class dismissed for another day;
teaching in the boat “Part II” is done… Christ again displaying such
patient long-suffering with his disciples, who were so slow to
understand his teaching. We’re not unlike them… we can hear the
same doctrine over and over again – assume we know it – and daily
life proves we don’t. Mark’s gospel even describes the disciples as
4
being utterly astounded at the feeding of the 5000 (imagine that: in
the aftermath of this storm – since they’ve been through it before
and Jesus has rescued them before [nothing new!] and after all the
divine teaching of Law and Gospel – they’re still more focused on the
feeding of the 5000!; and (the text says) “their hearts were
hardened.”
This informs us about “hardened hearts.” Hardened hearts
need not be hateful hearts. When we must sadly admit that our
friends, neighbors, and loved ones have hardened hearts toward the
gospel, we need not think of them as hateful, angry people… as
enemies. Such is not the case. Hardened hearts are simply those
hearts that have sinfully shut the door to the Holy Spirit’s desire to
enter in… shut the door for whatever reason – they’re hurt,
despondent, too rationalistic, indifferent. But, apart from the Holy
Spirit working in the Word, no amount of human effort or
understanding is going to give birth to faith… the heart will be
hardened. We must never cease to pray for our friends, neighbors,
loved ones, and ourselves – that we would not harden our hearts to
the gospel, but rather pray with the psalmist, who understood the
creation of a faithful heart depends on God alone: “Create in me a
clean heart, O God, and renew a right spirit within me.”
And, where Christ’s Word is, there – even if slowly and after
seeming to make no headway – there the Holy Spirit will work as he
wills.
5
For, how do we know that Jesus’ patient, repeated teaching
began to take hold on these hard-headed disciples? We know, not
because Peter and the others began to succeed in great acts of faith
like walking on water, but because they began to hope in Christ as
He had taught them to.
That’s why the last portion of our text is included. The next
day, the crowds find Jesus again. As I mentioned earlier, in the
morning, they realized he was gone and they got in boats to come
find him. And find him, they do – not only those from the other side
of the lake, but also crowds of folks from the region of Gennesaret.
And they all come for healings and miracles. And it’s in this scene, on
this day, that Jesus interprets for them all what the feeding of the
5000 (the previous day) was about. And it’s here in this time that his
teaching strikes a chord with them when he says,
“You seek me because you ate your fill of the loaves… [I tell you
the truth], the bread that I give for the life of the world is my
flesh… Unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his
blood, you have no life in you. Whoever feeds on my flesh and
drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise him up on the last
day.”
And, when the crowds could not fathom such teaching – too
hard-hearted to see beyond the loaves and their own bellies, so that
they left and followed him no longer – Jesus turned to the disciples
and said, “Will you leave me, too?” And they replied:
6
“Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal
life.” (Not works, not miracles, not signs, but the words of eternal
life.) The patient teaching had taken. They cherished His word of
Truth, His word which promises that the Son of Man would suffer
many things, would die for sins and rise again after three days, and
that the preaching of repentance and forgiveness would be applied
individually to sinners that they might receive the benefits of His
cross, that it will all work out okay – whatever life’s problems – in the
resurrection of the body and the life everlasting.
The disciples cherished the teaching that promised that Jesus
himself would be the food of heaven. True, they still needed much
instruction on it; they still knew nothing about the Holy Supper Jesus
would institute; they knew less about the Sacrament of the Altar
than one who skims the Small Catechism.
To be sure, the disciples did not understand perfectly. They
still had more to learn than they realized, and they would go on to
stumble often when faith was put to the test. You do too; you know
what it means to realize you know far less than you thought you
did… what it means to freeze up when you are called to confess, or
tremble in times where you ought rest in the Word’s certainty. You
know what it feels like to stand as a deer-in-the-headlights when the
opportunity arises to confess the faith in the simplest manner as you
have learned in the Small Catechism … and because you had thought
you’d outgrown the Catechism’s usefulness, you can’t remember any
7
of it when the time comes or lean upon its promises. You know the
experience of getting tongue-tied when all that you’ve been taught is
challenged by a simple, “Yeah, well, the Bible’s just religious
philosophy… where is your Jesus to save you now?!”…and you stand
speechless, not knowing how to respond. You know what it means to
have a very imperfect faith.
But such is not the measure of your salvation; neither was it
the measure of the disciples’ salvation. Rather, the Lord graciously
and patiently always called them to repentance, forgave them their
sin, and taught them anew. And they could cling with joy to his Word
of truth. And the integrity and certainty of His Word and promises? –
there’s the measure of your salvation: the certainty of His Word and
promises. Just as certain as a rainbow in the sky, just as faithful in his
repeated giving of such a promise. Think about it: how many millions
of rainbows have graced the sky since Noah’s day? – so common is it
we tend to downplay the divine promise that comes with it. So too
with Jesus’ repeated teaching, his repeated forgiving of our sins, his
repeated miracle of baptismal waters, his repeated giving of himself
to eat and drink. So regularly, faithfully does he carry out his
promises that we begin to think them so common that they must be
man’s creative efforts. How gracious is our God, that his teaching is
so simple, his divine miracles so abundant and accessible, that they
can actually be mistaken for something far less miraculous and divine
than they are!
8
But, let such simple, patient, faithful teaching and feeding be
that which we cherish all our days. If the angels in heaven rejoice
when a sinner repents, how much do they rejoice when a sinner
humbles himself to be taught the Word of Christ and learns to
cherish it and cling to it as his only hope and comfort? How much do
the angels rejoice when a sinner confesses, “Lord, to whom shall we
go? You have the words of eternal life”? How much do the angels
rejoice when we learn to cherish the opportunity to gather with
them and archangels and all the company of heaven praising God’s
glorious name and singing “Holy, Holy, Holy”? How much do they
rejoice when we learn not to hope in Christ as our bread-king, but as
God in the flesh? How much do they rejoice when sinners’ hearts
cling to the simple comfort of Jesus’ Word: “Take heart; I AM. Do not
be afraid.”
In the Name of the Father
And of the Son
And of the Holy Spirit.
+ AMEN +
Rev. Mark C. Bestul
Calvary Lutheran Church
July 26, 2015
9