When Jesus leaves us hanging
Sometimes it seems like Jesus isn’t very considerate. Look at what he did to his disciples. He had just “fed the five thousand” and, perceiving that everyone was going to make him king by force, he hid himself in the mountains. Then…
When evening came, his disciples went down to the sea, got into a boat, and started across the sea to Capernaum. It was now dark, and Jesus had not yet come to them. John 6:16-17 (English Standard Version)
When I read things like this, I think between the lines. Picture it with me as if you were one of the twelve.
Several hours ago we saw a huge miracle. In fact, we took part in it! We watched the food multiply at our fingertips. And then, after commanding everyone’s attention, and at the peak of it all, Jesus took off and went by himself up into the mountainside.
We haven’t heard from him for hours. The hustle and bustle of the miracle has quieted, and most of the people have gone on home. We’re frustrated that their zeal so quickly wanes. Just a few hours ago they were proudly declaring that Jesus was the long awaited Prophet that would be rescuing God’s people! But just a few hours of not seeing him, and with their full bellies and a long trip home, they start to pack up and head back.
It’s frustrating. They’re so weak spirited. What is this world coming to? What is Israel coming to?
But we too are starting to wonder, What next? It’s dark now, and even the last couple hundred hold outs have finally decided to call it quits. They’re up and heading home, making their way through the darkness, no doubt wishing they would’ve gone home with the rest of the crowd when there was still some daylight.
As each of us comes to our own private decision, we realize that through the body language of restless fidgeting and senseless small talk, the group has found consensus. We’re heading back.
“But what about Jesus?! He’s still up in the mountains!”
“He’s the Lord, he can take care of himself,” one reasons, only to immediately excuse his insensitivity, “I don’t mean it like that–it’s just that… I don’t know.”
You hear yourself saying, “Maybe he went back with the crowd,” and you feel a sense of betrayal. It calls up the emotions of that time a number of years back when you stumbled upon the animated conversation of your friends, only to bring them to a nervous halt. You knew they had been talking about you, and they knew you knew. But everyone pretended it was nothing and moved on. You put a smile on it, but you sensed betrayal.
Has Jesus found new friends to hang out with? Did he go home with the crowd?
You find yourself packing the boat with the eleven other disciples, each one band-aiding the disappointment with logic and small talk. And, not knowing where Jesus is, and why he’s left you, you find that your affection and your zeal has started to fade… just like the rest of the crowd you were so smugly criticizing just an hour earlier. Your Jesus left you. Is that all there was?
You pushed out to sea. It was rough because the wind had picked up. But you had to get home. You rowed and rowed. You were several miles out, and by now your struggle had swallowed up your emotions. Now you were just a man. Not only that, you were a fisherman at sea, doing what he does best, conquering the storm. It will not win.
Then suddenly you see something. Something’s walking on the water toward you. You catch a glimpse in the moonlight, between the waves. It’s definitely alive and moving toward you. Your hair stands on end. Your skin crawls. You hold your breath only to hear it squeaking out with a trembling panic. You’re a reasonable man, but what else could this be but a ghost? A spirit of some kind? You yell at it to scare it away, but then you hear it raise its voice, “It’s me, don’t be afraid.”
I know that voice! It’s Jesus! You mean, he was still there at the mountain when we left? I knew it! I knew he wouldn’t leave us!
But we left him. And we can no longer deny that we had lost faith. He hadn’t left us behind. We left him behind. He had waited for the crowd to leave so that it would just be him and us. But when he came down, he discovered that we had left with the crowd. And what did he do with that? Did he wander on home, dejected? No, he came by way of miracle and found us. He came to us!
Then they were glad to take him into the boat, and immediately the boat was at the land to which they were going. John 6:21 (ESV)
Of course, that’s just how my imagination tells it. But it makes me wonder, how often have I thought that Jesus had moved on, when he was really just preparing time for me? I can be so eager for an inspired experience that I fail to recognize the opportunity to quiet myself so that I can notice his presence.
But even when I step away, his grace still prevails. He seeks, he finds. I can trust him enough to wait.
For what it’s worth.