"Jesus' Compassionate Heart Is a Constant" (Sermon on Mark 6:30-34) | July 21, 2024

Sermon Text: Mark 6:30-34
Date: July 21, 2024
Event: Proper 11, Year B

 

Mark 6:30-34 (EHV)

The apostles gathered around Jesus and reported to him all that they had done and taught. 31He said to them, “Come away by yourselves to a secluded place and rest a while.” For there were so many people coming and going that they did not even have a chance to eat. 32They went away in the boat to a deserted place by themselves. 33But many people saw them leave and knew where they were going. They ran there on foot from all the towns and arrived ahead of them. 34When Jesus stepped out of the boat, he saw a large crowd. His heart went out to them because they were like sheep without a shepherd. He began to teach them many things.

 

Jesus’ Compassionate Heart Is a Constant

 

How do you feel about a car that has been a reliable form of transportation? It's probably so good you don’t even think about trusting it. But, if the car had been untrustworthy, you might think twice before hopping in the vehicle and zipping off to the store or on to a destination farther away. Being stranded by that vehicle in the past may leave you not trusting it in the future.

In the last few weeks in worship, we’ve heard a few vignettes from Jesus’ earthly ministry from Mark’s Gospel. In these accounts, we find ourselves very close to the high point of his earthly popularity. Next week, we will hear the account of Jesus feeding more than 5,000 people with a small lunch, and that event will really be the top of the popularity mountain for Jesus. Of course, Jesus’ goal and calling wasn’t to become a popular earthly preacher, but we’ll take that up later.

For now, it’s enough for us to consider that Jesus was busy—really, really busy. We got a hint of that last week as Jesus sent out the twelve disciples two by two so that they could cover more ground. During his state of humiliation, when Jesus, though God, was only occupying one physical place at a time, having small teams of preachers traveling the countryside rather than just one person meant that the message could get out a lot faster.

In our Gospel for this morning, we meet Jesus and the Twelve just after they return from this teaching trip. We don’t know exactly how long this mission trip was, but we might assume it was enough time to have some significant things happen, but not so much that they were separated from Jesus for a long time. The disciples are excited to share what has happened and, we might assume, pretty tired from their work at the same time. Jesus himself was practically buried in people seeking him and his help, so Jesus directed the disciples, “Come away by yourselves to a secluded place and rest a while.”

Jesus and the disciples go from a situation that is non-stop activity (so much so that they don’t even have the ability to take care of their basic needs like eating and resting) to a solitary boat ride, with the goal of finding a quiet place to just relax.

Put yourself in their shoes in our modern era. You have spent the entire day taking care of things. Maybe you endured a rough day at work and a frustrating commute, and now you’re ready to just sit down for a moment and relax. Perhaps you’ve been doing things to serve other people—likely your family—all day, and now you’re ready for some quiet time to do something you want to do, that would recharge your batteries. And then, the phone rings. Or the requests from others around you start rolling in. Then you are taken from your ideal relaxation into what is far from it. What is your response, even if it’s just internal in your heart and mind?

Perhaps it is grumbling and disappointment. Perhaps it’s tiredness that leads to a wrestling with the ideal—I know that I ought to serve others—and the reality of being too worn out to do so graciously or joyfully. Perhaps it is tempting to put off those seeking help, to leave the phone call unanswered, and to reason that those emails will be there later.

This is really the situation Jesus and the disciples found themselves in because as they approached what was supposed to be a secluded place, they saw a throng of people. Many people saw them leave and knew where they were going. They ran there on foot from all the towns and arrived ahead of them. When Jesus stepped out of the boat, he saw a large crowd.

And what is Jesus’ response? Does he roll his eyes? Does he tell the disciples to put the boat out to sea again to find a different place to go? No, he looks at the crowd and immediately has compassion for these poor people. Despite being exhausted and emotionally drained, he doesn’t shoo away the crowds and tell them to come back later. His heart goes out to them because they were like sheep without a shepherd.

It wasn’t just that they had been desperately seeking after Jesus and were tired after hoofing it around the Sea of Galilee or were wandering and lost as they sought him out. No, they were sheep without a shepherd in the spiritual sense because the ones who were supposed to be shepherding them, their religious leaders, were, at best, leaving them to fend for themselves and, at worst, leading them down dangerous paths away from God’s truth. And so, how does he act as their shepherd? He began to teach them many things.

This Gospel is not meant to scold us for not being like Jesus, although we readily recognize that we aren’t and can’t be. No, this account and our theme this morning is for comfort. Jesus is not the unreliable car that you need to approach skeptically as if this isn’t going to work. You will not find a time when Jesus is unwilling to listen to you, to help, guide, and support you. 

On our own, we, too, are like sheep without a shepherd. We can’t navigate this life in a productive way. We can’t get ourselves out of our sins and failures. We can’t even find (much less walk) the path to eternal life. It is impossible for us. We are helpless, lost little sheep with no one to blame but ourselves.

But Jesus looks at you and treats you with the same heart-pouring love and compassion that he had on the crowds that day. We heard that promise from God in our First Reading from the prophet Jeremiah that even though the earthly guides and shepherds he had tasked to take care of his people had failed, God would not abandon his sheep. No, he would directly intervene to be their Shepherd: I will gather what is left of my flock out of all the countries where I have driven them, and I will bring them back to their pastures. They will be fruitful and multiply. I will raise up shepherds over them who will shepherd them. They will no longer be afraid or terrified, nor will any be missing, declares the Lord” (Jeremiah 23:3-4).

Jesus’ ultimate, mind-blowing compassion on helpless sheep came at the cross. Because there, he took on your failures and mine, our sin and our rebellion against him, and he allowed himself to be punished for them. The Good Shepherd endured hell that we deserved; he laid down his life to save us. We almost can’t help but think of the prophecy God put into the pen of the prophet Isaiah, “We all have gone astray like sheep. Each of us has turned to his own way, but the Lord has charged all our guilt to him” (Isaiah 53:6).

Jesus not only forgives our sins but gives us his compassionate heart—not just in how it goes out to us, but his heart dwells within us. That means we can start to feel for others the way Jesus feels for us, not as burdens but as those needing direction and help. The more we dwell on what Jesus has done for us—how he has given us eternal life as a free gift—the more we see people who don’t know this message not as enemies or fools but as scared lost lambs who need help that they might not even realize they need. Even the most violent, boisterous enemy of God’s Word is a soul for whom Jesus died. Even the most brazen and outspoken critic of our faith is someone who needs the loving care of his Good Shepherd.

And most often, God brings that care to people through other people. That means that you experience Jesus’ care most noticeably in the love that God works through the hands of others. That means you are privileged to share this compassionate worldview as you seek to bring God’s message of comfort and peace to those around you.

Be it a pastor or teacher, a dear friend, a brother or sister in the faith, a loving parent, or even a concerned child, God reaches out to us in our moments of need to support us, and he uses us to support others. And this is not meant with the goal of some utopic existence in this life where we all care about and support one another (though that goal is truly noble!). No, God does all of this to point us ahead to the time when we won’t need others to share Jesus’ love with us, nor will we need to share that love with others because we all will see him face-to-face in the perfect courts of heaven.

Until that joyful and highly anticipated day, as you struggle with your frustrations and failures to avoid sin or do what is good, your Savior’s loving heart is a constant. While he may primarily show his love outwardly through other people, you need no intermediary between you and God. You have direct access to your Good Shepherd in prayer. And you know that you will never catch him too tired to help or upset to care. Jesus is for you the perfect Shepherd whose loving heart continues to reach out to you day in and day out.

Rest easy in his promises for you; rest easy that your Shepherd’s heart forever goes out to you. Amen.