The All-Powerful Shepherd and the New Exodus (Mark 6.30-56)

When I became a Christian, I thought I already knew the Bible pretty well. I’d grown up in church, I knew all the stories, and had heard thousands of sermons over the course of my life. I’d grown up hearing that the Bible is the inerrant Word of God, inspired by the Holy Spirit to speak the message of God to human beings—including those human beings who received this Word and wrote it down for us. I knew that, and I believed it and accepted it, as I still do.

The big surprise came when I actually started reading the Bible seriously, and realized that there was a lot more to it than I thought. Not just in terms of the details, which were far more fascinating and complex than I’d imagined, but also—especially—in terms of the biblical narrative as a whole.

The more I read and studied the Bible, the more I realized that the Bible is a lot more than just a book, or just a collection of books, or even a Holy-Spirit-inspired collection of books, but rather it is a Holy-Spirit-inspired, self-referential and self-fulfilling collection of books.

To put it another way, the Bible was probably the first meta series in literature.

This is astonishing, because the 66 books contained in the Bible were written over a span of over 1500 years, by multiple different authors from radically different walks of life, in radically different contexts. And yet, all of the biblical authors came together to write, not a series of books, but one coherent story.

You can see this all over the Bible if you pay attention, and you can see it quite particularly in today’s text. But in order to see it, you need to do a little work.

So I want to do something a little different today. I want to preach two mini-sermons on this text. In the first, we’ll look at the passage somewhat superficially: to see what happens in this passage, and what we might tend to take from it after a quick read. The reason I want to do this is because this is the way many of us typically read the Bible. We’ll eat the whipped cream, but we’ll leave the ice cream. We’ll sit down, we’ll read the text, we’ll even take notes…but we’ll forget to zoom out and consider the rest of the Bible. So the things we come away with may be true—I trust that everything I say today will be true—but we’ll come up just a little short.

In the second, I want us to notice something that Mark is doing in this passage—something subtle, but I believe quite intentional—that will help us to see the bigger point he’s actually trying to make by telling the story in this way.

So let’s start with Sermon I, which I’m calling “The All-Powerful Shepherd”.

Sermon I: The All-Powerful Shepherd

Essentially, this passage contains two very well-known miracles of Jesus: the feeding of the five thousand, and Jesus walking on water. Let’s start at the first, in v. 30.

1. Jesus Feeds the Five Thousand (v. 30-44)

Our passage begins with the apostles returning to Jesus. If you remember last week, Jesus sent them out two by two to be his delegates, in a sense, to the surrounding regions. They went out, they preached the gospel, and they performed miracles. Now they’ve returned, and they’re telling him about everything they did while they were gone.

Clearly, after a long trip and a lot of work, they’re exhausted, so Jesus takes them away to get some rest. They get in a boat, and they head out on the sea of Galilee toward “a desolate place”, away from the crowds. But lo and behold, when they come ashore, there’s the crowd that they left behind—they’ve come on foot, and they’re waiting.

This would be up there with the most annoying things they could do, for me. I came here to rest, please just give us some peace and quiet!

But that’s not what Jesus does. In v. 34, we read:

34 When he went ashore he saw a great crowd, and he had compassion on them, because they were like sheep without a shepherd. And he began to teach them many things.

So his reaction is neither irritation nor impatience—he doesn’t even make the very reasonable appeal that the apostles need their rest. Instead, he has compassion on the crowd, these “sheep without a shepherd”. And he begins to teach them.

Jesus’s capacity for understanding weak people is just astounding.

So he’s teaching, and it gets late. His disciples come and tap him on the shoulder, saying, “It’s getting late and everyone’s hungry. Let them go so they can get something to eat.”

Jesus is as provocative as ever in v 37:

37 But he answered them, “You give them something to eat.” And they said to him, “Shall we go and buy two hundred denarii worth of bread and give it to them to eat?” 38 And he said to them, “How many loaves do you have? Go and see.” And when they had found out, they said, “Five, and two fish.” 39 Then he commanded them all to sit down in groups on the green grass. 40 So they sat down in groups, by hundreds and by fifties. 41 And taking the five loaves and the two fish, he looked up to heaven and said a blessing and broke the loaves and gave them to the disciples to set before the people. And he divided the two fish among them all. 42 And they all ate and were satisfied.

So if you’re new to the Bible and this isn’t really clear, Mark is describing a miraculous multiplication of food. Jesus takes five loaves of bread and two fish, and makes more bread and fish from the ones that he has, enough to feed five thousand men (so likely around twenty-thousand men, women and children).

How did Jesus do it? What did it look like? I have no idea—I would have loved to have seen it. All we know is that there were twelve baskets of food left over after these thousands of people have been fed.

Jesus shows us here that he doesn’t care only for the spiritual: after feeding the people with his Word, he also provides for their material needs.

And why does he do it? Because he is all-powerful—he is able to feed all these people. But most especially, he does it because he is the good shepherd. An ordinary shepherd will be vigilant to give his sheep everything they need. Jesus is an even better shepherd, because he doesn’t care for his people out of duty or obligation, but because he has compassion on them.

2. Jesus Walks on Water (v. 45-56)

After this, Jesus sends his disciples back into the boat to finally find some rest on the other side. Jesus goes to seek his own kind of rest—as it says in v. 46: After he had taken leave of them, he went up on the mountain to pray.

Then Mark sets the scene for maximum suspense: later that evening, Jesus is on land, and he can see the boat out on the sea. Mark says (v. 48):

And he saw that they were making headway painfully, for the wind was against them.

That’s the picture he gives us: the disciples struggling in the boat, rowing against the wind, and Jesus watching, knowing that they’re having a hard time. It’s the middle of the night, somewhere between 3 and 6 a.m.

And then in the second half of v. 48, we read:

And about the fourth watch of the night he came to them, walking on the sea. He meant to pass by them, 49 but when they saw him walking on the sea they thought it was a ghost, and cried out, 50 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.” 51 And he got into the boat with them, and the wind ceased. And they were utterly astounded, 52 for they did not understand about the loaves, but their hearts were hardened.

Jesus comes to them in the most unconventional way possible: by walking on the water. That is, he is literally walking on the surface of the water as if it were land. It’s an extraordinary display of his power.

Mark says that “he meant to pass by them” before they spotted him and started freaking out—which is odd. What was Jesus’s plan? Did he want to head to the other shore and be there waiting for them when they got there?

Mark doesn’t tell us, but we know that the disciples see Jesus, thinks he’s a ghost, and he comes to reassure them. He gets in the boat, and the wind stops—the sea is calm again. And, Mark says, “they were utterly astounded.” No surprise there—they’ve just seen one of the most incredible things anyone has ever seen. Once again, the good shepherd is at work: protecting his sheep from the storm.

Finally, Jesus gets back to business as usual. They had meant to go to Bethsaida, to the north of the sea, but the storm has pushed them further west, to Gennesaret. When they land there, people recognize him and come to him, and bring him their sick. Jesus’s power is so great that all people had to do was touch the fringe of his garment (like the woman with the discharge of blood in chapter 5). And (v. 56) “as many as touched it were made well.”

Conclusion

So here would be a typical conclusion to this sermon; it’s the exact conclusion I’ve heard in multiple sermons on this passage.

The big idea, according to this conclusion, is this: Jesus is the Good Shepherd who cares for his sheep, and he puts all of his incredible power to work in providing for their needs—their food, their healing, and their protection.

Now, that is absolutely true. That is exactly who Jesus is. And we can take incredible comfort in that, knowing that the power of God himself is constantly putting all of his power to work in providing for his people.

But that’s not all that’s going on here.

Mark gives us multiple, subtle hints that the main idea he has in mind is bigger than even that big idea we just pulled out. And it all has to do with the Exodus.

Sermon II. The New Exodus

So here is the second sermon—the sermon that hopefully goes a little deeper than the fairly superficial reading we did before.

Before we get started, I’d like to give a warning. It is possible to go too far when trying to dig deeper into a passage of Scripture, and make connections the author never intended to make. A classic example is the story of Rahab, the prostitute who protected the Hebrew spies in Jericho. Rahab asked for their protection when Israel came to take Jericho, and said she would hang a red cord out of her window so they could identify her. Some people will try to find meaning in the fact that the cord she hangs out the window is red—it must be a reference to sacrifice! It’s an allusion to the blood of Christ!

No, it’s actually just a red cord, chosen because the color red would be clearly visible against a stone wall. There is nothing in the story to suggest that this was an allusion to anything greater than that. We want so badly to find connections in the Bible that sometimes we make them up.

If you find yourself susceptible to this kind of thinking, that’s okay. Learning to read the Bible is like learning a language: you can learn the basics quickly, but becoming fluent takes time. Keep going. Read the Bible with others who know it better than you, to learn from them. Read, and pray, and be patient.

That being said, I don’t thing it’s a leap to make a number of connections in this passage; Mark makes multiple allusions to the Exodus. They are subtle, so you might not notice them if you’re reading quickly, but they’re also clear: once you see them you can’t unsee them.

1. The Savior Who Provides (v. 30-44)

Let’s go back to the feeding of the five thousand, in v. 30-44. Where are they when this miracle takes place? We’re not exactly sure, but we know that Jesus has intentionally brought his disciples across the sea to rest in “a desolate place” (v. 32)—a place where there is nothing, no commerce, no activity. And that’s where the people come to meet him.

Think back to the Exodus story. Israel lived under slavery for centuries, and when they cried out to God he heard their prayers and sent Moses to deliver them. Through a series of miraculous signs God performs, Israel is delivered from slavery and brought out of Egypt. But when they get where God is bringing them, they find themselves in a wilderness—with no idea how they’re going to eat or drink.

So God, providing for his people, sends them a bread-like substance they call manna, and quail—every day and every night. He provides water, gushing from a rock. (These stories appear in Exodus 16-17.) The whole time they are in the wilderness, the people of Israel have food to eat and water to drink. God provides for their need.

It’s difficult to miss the similarity with what Jesus does here. These people have come to him because they are hungry to know him, so he feeds their hunger by teaching. Then when they become actually hungry, he provides actual food—he miraculously produces enough bread and fish to feed everyone present.

Mark wants us to see that just as God provided for Israel in the wilderness, Jesus is providing for his people in this desolate place.

In addition, when everyone has had their fill, there are twelve baskets of bread and fish left over. What does the number twelve remind you of? Of course, if you know the story of Exodus, it will remind you of the twelve tribes of Israel.

Now I’ll be the first to admit that on its own, that would be a bit of a stretch. But this not the only time Mark mentions something like this.

Later on, in chapter 8, Jesus will perform a similar miracle, in which he feeds four thousand people. And once again, there’s more than enough food—there are leftovers. In chapter 8, there are seven baskets of food left over.

Seven, in the Bible, is the number of completeness, of wholeness.

Twelve baskets here, seven baskets there. And there’s a reason: God knew exactly what he was doing when he planned out how much food there would be left over.

In the first miracle, in our text today, Jesus is in Jewish territory—he’s preaching to Jews, and he’s feeding Jews. Twelve baskets, twelve tribes of Israel.

In the second miracle in chapter 8, Jesus is in Gentile territory—he’s preaching to non-Jews, and he’s feeding non-Jews. And this time, seven baskets are left: completeness.

First he comes to Israel, and feeds his people. Then he goes out into the rest of the world, and feeds them. Jesus didn’t come just to save the Jews; he came to save all his people. People from all nations, all tribes and tongues.

Mark didn’t make this stuff up, but he’s drawing our attention to it in this passage because he wants us to see the commonalities between the God who rescued the people of Israel from slavery in Egypt and this carpenter who came to preach the kingdom of God. He wants us to see the commonalities between the God who provided for his people in the desert and this Jesus who provided for his people in this other desolate place.

Jesus is the figurehead of a new Exodus.

2. The Savior Who Is “I AM” (v. 45-56)

Next, Jesus sends the disciples to the other side of the sea while he goes up to the mountain to pray. The winds pick up, the disciples are having a very hard time rowing against it. Jesus sees this and comes, walking on the water, toward the boat. They’re afraid, he tells them not to be afraid because it’s him, gets into the boat, and calms the storm.

There is a fairly obvious reference to the Exodus story here: Jesus displays his supernatural power over a body of water. He displays it here by walking on it. In Exodus 14, God displayed his supernatural power over the water at the Red Sea by parting it, allowing the people of Israel to pass through the sea on dry land.

Already this would be a significant thing to note. But it’s not all; it’s not even the most important. The most important allusion to the Exodus here is rather found in two subtle moments in v. 48-50. Let’s read those verses again:

48 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, 49 but when they saw him walking on the sea they thought it was a ghost, and cried out, 50 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.”

Here’s the first allusion: look at the end of v. 48: “He meant to pass by them…”

Remember, earlier on we asked why Jesus meant to pass by the disciples. What was his plan? Why would he walk out there just to “pass by” them?

We find the answer in the words themselves. (I’m sorry, this is a little technical, but it’s important.)

This book was written in Greek, which was the common language of the Roman Empire at the time. Mark tells us that Jesus meant to “pass by” the disciples. In the Septuagint (the Greek translation of the Old Testament, completed in the 1st century B.C.), the same verb is used in Exodus 33, when God puts Moses in the cleft of the rock and “passed by” him, giving him a glimpse of his glory.

Mark’s choice of words is not accidental; what God did for Moses is what Jesus is doing for the disciples. He’s not passing by the boat to get past the disciples; he’s passing by the boat to be seen by the disciples. That they might see his power and glory and believe in him.

He hammers this point home even harder when he sees that the disciples are terrified. What does he tell them? V. 50: “Take heart; IT IS I. Do not be afraid.”

One night when Jack was a newborn, Loanne had a nightmare that Jack was gone and she couldn’t find him (a common nightmare for new parents). It was a nightmare for me too, because in her sleep, Loanne was feeling all around in the bed for Jack, clawing at the covers and smacking my arms and my face. I woke up, shocked to find myself assaulted, and all I could think to say to calm her down was, “It’s okay! It’s me! It’s me! It’s me!”

That’s not what Jesus is doing here; he’s not just calming the disciples’ fears by identifying himself. He’s echoing God’s own words to Moses at the burning bush in Exodus 3, when he told Moses who he was: “I AM.”

Any one of these things, taken on its own, can seem a bit far-fetched, like we’re grasping for connections. And Mark is subtle with his allusions. It’s harder to dismiss, however, when they keep piling up like this, and Mark says one final thing that convinces me that he is indeed making reference to something greater than just a couple of pretty astounding miracles.

It comes when Mark describes the reaction of the disciples to Jesus after he calms the waves. V. 51:

51 And he got into the boat with them, and the wind ceased. And they were utterly astounded, 52 for they did not understand about the loaves, but their hearts were hardened.

Of course, if you know the story of Exodus, you’ll remember that the author speaks several times about the Pharaoh’s heart being hardened. I don’t think the disciples’ hearts were as hardened as the heart of the Pharaoh, who willfully refused to believe Moses despite everything he had seen. There’s no hint of malice in the disciples’ lack of comprehension.

But they were still not quite ready to fully believe; they didn’t understand yet. Not all who don’t understand have hard hearts; but in this case, the disciples’ hardness of heart caused them to not “understand about the loaves.”

So here’s the real question: what were they meant to understand about the loaves? When Jesus multiplied the bread and the fish, what were they meant to understand? When Jesus passed by them on the lake, walking on the water, what were they meant to understand?

It’s already fairly obvious from the context of the story, but it becomes even more obvious when you take all of Mark’s allusions to the Exodus into account. The disciples were meant to understand that Jesus is God.

• Who fed the people of Israel in the desert, when there was no food? God did.

• Who had power over the Red Sea? God did.

• Who passed by Moses in the rock, giving him a view of his glory? God did.

• Who provided atonement for the sins of the people, making them pure? God did.

And yet, the people of Israel consistently struggled to fully understand who God was, to fully believe in and trust him.

Now, look at today’s passage:

• Who fed the crowds in a desolate place, when there was no food? Jesus did.

• Who had power over the sea of Galilee? Jesus did.

• Who passed by the disciples in the boat, giving them a view of his glory? Jesus did.

• Who provided healing for the people in Gennesaret after they landed, purifying them of their physical ailments? Jesus did.

And yet, the disciples struggle to fully understand who Jesus is; they are afraid.

The point of all of this is that Jesus arrives on the scene in Israel, performing miracles and guiding through his teaching, and in so doing, he begins the process of bringing his people into a new Exodus.

The people of Israel were in bondage to slavery for centuries before God provided an exodus for them—a way of escape, of getting out of their slavery.

So if Jesus is ushering in a new Exodus, we have to ask: What are we getting out of? What are we escaping? What is Jesus setting us free from?

The Bible is the story of God bringing his people out of death and into life. He does it over and over: when he provides a means for Noah to escape the flood; when he brings Israel out of bondage in Egypt; when he rescues his people from foreign oppression; when he brings them out of exile in Babylon, back to Jerusalem.

All of these are hints of the greater Exodus to come: the exodus from what enslaves every man and every woman who ever lived. Jesus came to set his people free from sin and eternal death. Jesus came to bring us out of death and into life.

And there, we have the final connection. The Exodus wasn’t just an exodus, it was also an entrance: the people exited the slavery of Egypt, and ultimately entered into the promised land of Canaan. Jesus came to bring us out of death, and into life. He didn’t carry our sin on the cross only to let us escape eternal death. He was raised from the tomb to secure for us eternal life.

As wonderful as all the miracles of Christ were, they are merely signposts, pointing us to the greater miracle, the infinite miracle, of bringing people from every nation, tribe and tongue into eternal life, through his life, death and resurrection.

Conclusion

I can think of no better preparation for Easter week than this text. This passage tells us everything we should have in mind as we get ready to celebrate the death and resurrection of Christ.

And that’s really the call of this text—it’s giving us something to keep in mind. We always want to know how to respond to a text in the Bible, and there is always a response to what we read in the Bible. But sometimes, the proper response isn’t anything we do; it’s something we realize.

That is the case here. This text isn’t calling us to do anything; it’s calling us to understand what the disciples couldn’t. To see Jesus for the incredible, incomprehensible God that he is. To take rest and solace in the knowledge that the power Jesus has to feed five thousand men from a few loaves of bread and a few fish, the power he has to walk on water and calm a storm, is at work in his people to bring them closer to him.

So rather than springing into action after reading this text, our main response should be to pray. Pray that God would soften our hearts, so that we might understand who Jesus is. Pray that we might see his glory and believe. Pray that we might have eyes to see who Christ is, and be in awe of him.

If we see Jesus for who he is, we will be in constant wonder and worship of him. We will be transfixed not just by where we are, but by where we are going. We will be centered not on our circumstances but on his promises for our eternal life.

And at the same time, if we see Jesus for who he is, we’ll understand that he doesn’t just care about the big things; he cares about the small things as well. If you’re hungry, he will feed you. If you’re unsure of where to go, he will guide you. If you’re afraid, he will protect you. He won’t always give us everything we want to have; he won’t tell us everything we want to know; and he won’t always protect us from things that frighten us. But he will give us what we need to have; he will tell us what we need to know; and he will protect us from the things that will truly harm us.

We serve an incredible, gracious, awe-inspiring Savior, who has brought us into a new Exodus, guiding us out of death and into life, out of darkness and into light. Let us consider him, believe in him, trust him.