The Beautiful Upset: WK5 - TUE
THE GHOST ON THE WATER
Mark 6:47–50a (NLT) "Late that night, the disciples were in their boat in the middle of the lake, and Jesus was alone on land. He saw that they were in serious trouble, rowing hard and struggling against the wind and waves. About three o’clock in the morning Jesus came toward them, walking on the water. He intended to go past them, but when they saw him walking on the water, they thought he was a ghost and screamed in terror."
I image that rowing a wooden fishing boat into a headwind is miserable work. The disciples had been at it since evening, and by the time Jesus came to them it was somewhere between three and six in the morning. Hours of pulling on the oars with wet hands, and the shoreline hadn't moved. Most of us know some version of that hour. You wake up and lie there rowing through the same conversation you had yesterday, the same bank balance, the same test result, making about as much progress as they did.
Then Mark adds a line that has bothered readers for centuries. Jesus came walking on the water "and intended to go past them." It sounds like he was going to stroll by and let them sort it out. But Mark's first readers would have heard an echo. When God showed himself to Moses on the mountain, and later to Elijah outside the cave, he "passed by" them. It's the language of God letting people see who he is. Jesus was showing up in the one place they were sure he wasn't.
They thought he was a ghost and started screaming. I find that more honest than comforting. They'd fought the storm all night, and when God actually appeared, he frightened them more than the weather had.
"Don't be afraid," he tells them. "Take courage! I am here!" In Greek it's the same phrase God uses to name himself: I am. He climbs into the boat and the wind stops. You'd think Mark would end there, with everyone grateful and dry. Instead he says they were amazed because they still hadn't understood what happened with the loaves, and their hearts were hard.
They had watched bread multiply in their own hands less than a day earlier, and it still didn't occur to them that the same Jesus might come looking for them in the dark. I recognize that. I can tell you exactly where God showed up for me last year, and then lie awake at three in the morning rowing as if he's never once found me before. Maybe that's what a hard heart actually looks like, a memory that stops working right when the wind picks up.
Mark 6:47–50a (NLT) "Late that night, the disciples were in their boat in the middle of the lake, and Jesus was alone on land. He saw that they were in serious trouble, rowing hard and struggling against the wind and waves. About three o’clock in the morning Jesus came toward them, walking on the water. He intended to go past them, but when they saw him walking on the water, they thought he was a ghost and screamed in terror."
I image that rowing a wooden fishing boat into a headwind is miserable work. The disciples had been at it since evening, and by the time Jesus came to them it was somewhere between three and six in the morning. Hours of pulling on the oars with wet hands, and the shoreline hadn't moved. Most of us know some version of that hour. You wake up and lie there rowing through the same conversation you had yesterday, the same bank balance, the same test result, making about as much progress as they did.
Then Mark adds a line that has bothered readers for centuries. Jesus came walking on the water "and intended to go past them." It sounds like he was going to stroll by and let them sort it out. But Mark's first readers would have heard an echo. When God showed himself to Moses on the mountain, and later to Elijah outside the cave, he "passed by" them. It's the language of God letting people see who he is. Jesus was showing up in the one place they were sure he wasn't.
They thought he was a ghost and started screaming. I find that more honest than comforting. They'd fought the storm all night, and when God actually appeared, he frightened them more than the weather had.
"Don't be afraid," he tells them. "Take courage! I am here!" In Greek it's the same phrase God uses to name himself: I am. He climbs into the boat and the wind stops. You'd think Mark would end there, with everyone grateful and dry. Instead he says they were amazed because they still hadn't understood what happened with the loaves, and their hearts were hard.
They had watched bread multiply in their own hands less than a day earlier, and it still didn't occur to them that the same Jesus might come looking for them in the dark. I recognize that. I can tell you exactly where God showed up for me last year, and then lie awake at three in the morning rowing as if he's never once found me before. Maybe that's what a hard heart actually looks like, a memory that stops working right when the wind picks up.
- What "headwind" or storm in your life right now is draining your energy and straining your oars?
- In what ways might Jesus be trying to reveal Himself to you in the middle of that storm, even if it feels terrifying at first?
- How does remembering past moments of God’s faithfulness help soften your heart when new crises arise?
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