Come to a Desolate Place and Rest
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“And [Jesus] said to them, “Come away by yourselves to a desolate place and rest awhile” (Mark 6:31).
“And [Jesus] said to them, “Come away by yourselves to a desolate place and rest awhile” (Mark 6:31).
Grace and peace to you
from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.
Our text begins with
the apostles returning to Jesus and telling Him all that they had done and
taught during their recent two-by-two mission tour. But something important
happens during this brief “vicarage.” We dare not pass over it or we’ll miss
the full impact of this passage. John the Baptist, the forerunner of Christ,
has just been executed thanks to birthday boy Herod and his hasty oath. John’s
head is served on a platter, a gruesome party favor for Herodias and her
daughter the dancer. John’s disciples claim his body and lay it in a tomb.
The beheading of a
prophet like John is big news. But Jesus isn’t surprised. That’s the way it
goes with God’s prophets. How much more it is with Jesus, the Christ Himself! He
is rejected by His hometown of Nazareth. He has become the object of Herod’s superstitious
fear. As the reports of Jesus’ teaching and miracles reach him, the paranoid
king worries that John has returned from the dead in the person of Jesus. Fear
and guilt have a way of making one’s imagination run wild.
Oh, no; Jesus is not
surprised by the report of John’s death one bit. But that doesn’t mean He is
unaffected. So when the Twelve return from their mission tour, Jesus says to
them: “‘Come away by yourselves to a desolate place and rest a while.’ For many
were coming and going, and they had no leisure even to eat. So they went away
in the boat to a desolate place by themselves” (Mark 6:31-32).
Before we really get
into our text, I’d like to draw your attention to one other thing. At this
point in the Gospel, there’s a subtle difference in Mark’s writing style. Most of
Mark’s accounts begin with action words: “immediately,” “now when,” “while he
was still speaking.” Here, the evangelist slows things down a bit.
It seems that Jesus
intends to give His apostles and Himself a breather. Perhaps it is a chance to
mourn John’s death… and to contemplate His own death. As I was reminded once
again this week, the death of a loved one or close friend has a way of making
us think of our own mortality. And fully God, Jesus knows where His ministry is
leading. It’s taking Him to the cross. Betrayal. Denial. Brutal suffering. A
horrible death. Fully human, Jesus understands the need for rest and
reflection, instruction and prayer. And so Jesus bids His apostles: “Come away
by yourselves to a desolate place and rest awhile.”
A desolate place. Look
up that phrase and you’ll find a definition like this: “A wilderness; an
uninhabited place which offers no shelter or sustenance, especially one which
is located in a remote area.” And certainly by that definition, the other side
of the Sea of Galilee is (or was) a desolate place. But Jesus and His apostles aren’t
there alone for long. Crowds from the cities are already waiting for Jesus when
He gets ashore. So much for the little time of rest—at least rest in the sense
that we generally understand it. Perhaps Jesus offers another kind of rest?
As usual, Jesus has
compassion on the crowd. After all, He’s not here for Himself. He comes as the
Christ for all people. The people are sheep without a shepherd. In their
synagogues, they are not given the spiritual food they need and are not being directed
to the Messiah, but pointed to their own works of the Law. Christ, the Good
Shepherd, who can provide them what they need, cannot withhold the food they so
desperately desire—the very Bread of Life, Himself.
Our Lord cannot resist
meeting the greatest needs of the crowd and He is soon in its midst preaching
and teaching and healing. The day passes quickly. The apostles find it
necessary to remind the Lord about their other, more practical, everyday needs.
“This is a desolate place, and the hour is now late. Send them away to go into
the surrounding countryside and villages and buy themselves something to eat.” It’s
a reasonable and rational request… but totally wrong.
Jesus’ answer is short
and sweet and totally ludicrous: “You give them something to eat.” The apostles
can hardly believe their ears. What can they
do? Why, even eight months of wages wouldn’t begin to fill the rumbling stomachs
of this crowd! Nevertheless, Jesus tells them to take an inventory of their resources.
They scrounge up five loaves of breads and two small fish that, according to
John 6:9, belonged to a young boy. A barley loaf was flat and small, hardly
enough for two people. And the fish—pickled or smoked—was usually served as a relish
or garnish and eaten with the bread. It isn’t much, but at least this boy (or
his mother) had enough sense and foresight to pack a lunch when nobody else
did.
The disciples seem to finally
catch on that something special is in the wind, for when Jesus asks them to
seat the people they do so without asking any more questions or raising any
other objections. The sight must have been stunning—a large crowd grouped by
hundreds and fifties, seated on the green grass for an impromptu picnic. The
word group in Greek is even more
picturesque, as it is the word used for beds in a garden, for orderly rows of
vegetables. All sit there on the green grass, lined up row-by-row, waiting to
be fed by their Good Shepherd, but totally unaware of what is about to happen
in this desolate place.
Jesus begins this meal
as He begins every meal—by looking up to heaven and giving thanks. Perhaps He
uses the meal prayer of the Small Catechism and Old Testament psalter: “The
eyes of all look to You, O Lord, and You give them their food in due season. You
open Your hand and satisfy the desires of every living thing” (145:15-16). It is the usual blessing but an unusual meal. Jesus
breaks the bread and divides the fish, giving it to the disciples, who then
pass it on to the people. Without saying a word, Jesus simply continues to
multiply the bread and fish so that there is enough for all and even more left
over—twelve baskets, one for each of the doubting disciples. And don’t forget
that more than five thousand are fed; Mark counts the men but not the women and
children.
Now, if we’re not
careful we can get the wrong idea about what’s happening here. We could fall
into the Joel Osteen, prosperity preacher ditch, and this notion that if you
just play your cards right, your bread and fish will never run out, your wine
and milk will overflow, your IRA and stock portfolio will grow and grow. The
lure of money for nothing is what keeps the casinos running, and the idea that
God is an infinite vending machine of favors to the favored isn’t far behind. St.
John emphasizes that danger in his account. The people want to make Jesus king
on the spot. A chicken (or fish) in every pot. Bread on every table.
But Mark emphasizes the
desolate place. Three times within
the space of five verses, this phrase is repeated: “a desolate place.” Jesus
intentionally brings His apostles to a desolate place for rest and recovery,
instruction and prayer. It’s an unusual place for a retreat perhaps; but not
really if you think about it. The Lord does much of His best work when He
brings His people to a desolate place.
Remember Israel’s wilderness
wandering after being “exodused” out of Egypt? Forty years’ worth of testing
and trial and time for personal reflection and spiritual growth. Forty years of
desolation to learn to trust in the Lord and His provision of daily bread. Forty
years to drive home the lesson that “man shall not live on bread alone but by
every word that comes from the mouth of God” (Deuteronomy 8:3). Forty years in
a desolate place to properly prepare them for the abundance that awaited them
in the Promised Land.
And then there was the
beginning of Jesus’ own ministry. Baptized by John, with His heavenly Father’s
declaration of well-pleasing Sonship still echoing near the Jordan, Jesus is
immediately driven by the Holy Spirit to the wilderness, to a desolate place,
to be tempted by the devil. Though hungry after forty days of fasting, Jesus
forgoes the temptation to use His divine power to feed His own human need,
relying upon God’s Word alone for His sustenance and strength. The angels
minister to Him, bringing rest, even in the midst of trial and desolation.
In bringing His
disciples to a desolate place, Jesus is having them replicate His own activity.
Their entire lives are coming to be conformed to His. Jesus is preparing His
disciples to carry on His mission after His exodus. Like their Master each one
would have to deny himself and take up his own cross. Only the one who loses
his life for Jesus’ sake and the Gospel’s will save it. Only those who strive
to enter God’s rest through daily repentance and by trusting God’s mercy in
Christ, will enter the eternal rest of the heavenly Promised Land.
And so it goes yet
still today. The Lord bids you to come to a desolate place and to rest in Him,
to trust in Him. Your desolate place? There are as many desolate places as
there as disciples. Yours could be a healthcare emergency or chronic pain. Mourning
the death of a loved one. Marital and other relationship problems. Unemployment
or financial frustrations. Loss of
confidence or an identity crisis. A guilty conscience. The consequences of sin
(yours or someone else’s) that weigh you down. Actually, a desolate place could
be anything difficult or disturbing enough that it makes you come to a point
where you realize you cannot count on your own resources, your own
resourcefulness, that you must come to Jesus empty-handed, as a beggar, asking
Him to fill your need. Such desolate times and places are used by God to prepare
you for the blessings of the Promised Land, your eternal inheritance in the
kingdom of heaven.
Along the pilgrim way,
the Lord bids you to come to another desolate place, a place where you may lay
down your burdens and find rest in Him. He bids you to leave behind your own resources
and to trust in Him alone. The disciples thought they needed to tell Jesus how
to handle their situation. And when Jesus offered to help, they found it
difficult to trust Him with five loaves and two fish. How about you? What is it
in your life that seems so immense that you won’t bother Jesus? What problem is
so huge that you can’t tell Jesus? What sin is so shameful that you won’t trust
it with Jesus?
Can you trust a Jesus
who bids you come to a desolate place to rest? Can you trust a Jesus with only
five loaves and two fish? Can you? Yes. And with anything else. In fact, with
everything! Especially the most
troubling problems of all, the most desolate of places: sin, death, and hell.
For that there’s
Calvary, for a few hours of eternity the most desolate place on earth, a place
totally forsaken by God, a Son totally forsaken by His heavenly Father for your
sins and the sins of this world. Behold, the Lamb of God who takes away the sin
of the world is also your Good Shepherd! Salvation is achieved. Jesus lived for
you. Christ died for you. Your sin is His. His righteousness is yours. Jesus takes
your desolate place so that you might find eternal rest in Him.
Now you sit here in
rows listening to Jesus’ instruction and praying with your fellow saints. Not
near enough people to have to organize in hundreds and fifties, but hungry, weary
pilgrims in need of the Lord’s compassion nonetheless. So from time to time, He
invites you to come forward. Take a little bit of bread and a little bit of
wine from the hands of His called and ordained servant. What is that in the
midst of your desolate place? In the midst of all your enormous problems and
sins? It’s the Lord’s Supper. Jesus has prepared a Table for you in the
presence of your enemies. He has led you to the green pastures His grace. He
feeds you. His Body. His Blood. Connected to His promise. Eat and drink it for
the forgiveness of your sins and the strengthening of your faith unto life
everlasting.
Jesus’ compassion for
you knows no bounds. No desolate place, no problem, no sin, no guilt, no
sickness, no death, is too big for Jesus. You can trust Him with anything and
everything! With Jesus there’s always more. More than meets the eye. More than
you ever expected, certainly more than you ever deserved—eternal life,
salvation, and forgiveness that know no bounds. Indeed, for Jesus’ sake, you
are forgiven for all of your sins.
In the name of the
Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
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