Mark 6:32-34 “So they went away by themselves in a boat to a solitary place. But many who saw them leaving recognized them and ran on foot from all the towns and got there ahead of them. When Jesus landed and saw a large crowd, he had compassion on them, because they were like sheep without a shepherd. So he began teaching them many things.”

Sometimes it seems like a vacation isn’t complete until something spoils it. Twenty-five years ago our family took a 17 day trek across the southwestern United States. We went through three rented trailers, scorching heat, lost children, fevers and parasites along the way. We saw a lot of things. We did a lot of things. We did not get a lot of rest.

Jesus did not announce his getaway with the disciples as a “working vacation.” But when he saw the large crowds, he wasted little time letting it turn into one. His reasons for doing so were clear: “…he had compassion on them, because they were like sheep without a shepherd.” It wasn’t so much their physical injuries and diseases. It was their spiritually lost condition that motivated his sense of urgency.

I have never shepherded literal sheep. But I have worked on a farm with livestock. When cows or pigs broke through a fence and got out, we dropped everything else we were doing. Getting them back in suddenly became the only project anyone was working on. Every hand was needed to get them corralled and safely back inside their pens.

Several times each week neighbors on our subdivision’s social media page report dogs or cats that have gotten loose and are wandering the neighborhood. This becomes that family’s focus of attention until Fido or Fluffy are safely home. There is an urgency when our four-legged friends are in sudden need of attention from their caretakers.

So Jesus was moved by the plight of these people who were wandering spiritually. They had no leaders to confront their sin-sickness. They weren’t being fed a regular diet of God’s forgiving love. They got nothing but do-it-yourself religion, endless lists of advice about how to live your life. That drove them further and further away from the safety of God’s arms and into the wilderness of confusion and despair. Jesus wasted no time turning his vacation with the disciples into a working vacation, because souls were at stake, and the work of caring for them is important no matter how much rest you need.

His compassion for us is no less. His desire for us to know our sins and their all-sufficient solution at the cross is no less urgent to him. His method for addressing our need remains the same as it was for the crowds that met him as he got out of the boat: “So he began teaching them many things.” In his word he teaches us the grace and love that calls our souls home and keeps them safe in his care.

Doesn’t he also teach us something about loving and caring for souls ourselves? Doing God’s work doesn’t wait until it is convenient. Often it will be inconvenient. It will intrude on our time. It will upset our priorities. It will spoil our plans. But the people for whom Christ bled and died are worth it. These are matters of heaven or hell for the people we serve. The work is important, no matter how much we may also need some rest.

We may feel a tension between our need for spiritual rest and our need to do God’s work. Perhaps we wonder how to resolve the temptation. Don’t do it. Both things are true. Both are God’s word. Both of them need to stand. Don’t find the balance. Just live the life. Trust Jesus to give you all the work you can handle and all the rest that you need.

Mark 6:31 “Then, because so many people were coming and going that they did not even have a chance to eat, he said to them, ‘Come with me by yourselves to a quiet place and get some rest.’”

We might think, “People, give these men a break! Let them get a bite and catch their breath.” But if it was your child dying of some dread disease, if it was your friend being driven mad by the devils inside of him, you might not be so patient. You might not be inclined to say, “Oh, it’s supper time? Go ahead and get something to eat, then. We will just sit here and wait while my child writhes in agony and his pulse slowly fades to zero. We will just try to keep our possessed friend from hurting someone until you are done with dessert.” The task was huge, and urgent, and never ending.

So Jesus proposed getting away to get some rest. Some rest? You have got to be kidding, Jesus! Why, we need to work double shifts and bring in another twelve disciples to work through the backlog. But that was not the Savior’s response. He knew the work would never be done. He wanted his disciples fresh and strong for the task. He invited them to come away and get some rest.

There is a subtle lesson he was teaching them about the way things work in his kingdom. We tend to think that Jesus saved us. After that it is up to us to carry out our mission, to build the church, and make it work. Jesus did that and we do this. If our mission doesn’t seem to be working so well, then we need to work harder, and smarter, and figure out the problem, and get it right. It all depends on us.

To be sure, Jesus favors hard work and dedication. But we are not the co-saviors. We are the weak, the bedraggled, fellow patients in his hospital, fellow strugglers with our world. We are the people he had to save. We need to repent of believing, like that vintage WWII poster of the female factory worker suggests, “We can do it.” At least the idea that we can do it by ourselves. That thought may stroke our egos, but it serves neither God’s kingdom, nor our souls. We need a power outside of us, a strength from someone else, for the work.

So Jesus proposes rest, because rest is important no matter how much work you have. This wasn’t a sight-seeing tour in some foreign country. It wasn’t time to fulfill bucket list experiences like zip-lining through the forest, white-water rafting, or climbing some peak. “Come with me by yourselves to a quiet place.” This was time with the Savior. This was time to renew their relationship with Jesus. Real rest is more than the absence of activity. It comes when souls can put down the heavy burden of guilt and sin. Confidence that we are forgiven gives us peace.

Jeff and Lori told me with tears in their eyes about the peace they had found when they first grasped that Jesus had really done it all. By his death and resurrection, he had accomplished everything to save them. This was because for twenty weeks they had been with Jesus–not directly like the twelve disciples, but in word and spirit at a Bible basics class. After class they would go home at night and discuss what they had heard. Was it really true? Was it really possible that Jesus did everything, that forgiveness and eternal life were all by grace, that there was nothing more for them to do? They didn’t have to travel to a spa or some secluded cabin. They found it in a cluttered classroom in the middle of the city. There they could come away with Jesus and get their souls some rest.

Don’t forget your own need for rest. Jesus still invites us to come away with him in his word.

Ezekiel 2:6-7 “And you, son of man, do not be afraid of them or their words. Do not be afraid, though briers and thorns are all around you and you live among scorpions. Do not be afraid of what they say or terrified by them, though they are a rebellious house. You must speak my words to them, whether they listen or fail to listen, for they are rebellious.”

            Few things scare people as much as public speaking. That gets even harder when you know people don’t like what you have to say. “Don’t shoot the messenger,” people say. Don’t blame the person speaking when he is simply delivering a message from someone else. But there is a reason for the saying. There is a tendency for people to want to shoot the messenger. When the message makes them mad, they don’t care where it comes from. They just want to attack the person who had the gall to bring it.

            God knew that Ezekiel would face people who didn’t like what he had to say. Well over a thousand years of previous history pretty much guaranteed it. Their reaction was going to cut, and poke, and sting. Many of them would simply reject the truth. They would plug their ears and refuse to listen. Ezekiel’s work was often lonely. At times it even became dangerous.

            It is not as though people love God’s laws more today. They don’t even like his grace very much. Being forgiven means having to admit you did something bad. A faith built around forgiveness means having to admit that people are in general bad. They don’t want to hear it.

            But the prophet’s task is still to deliver God’s message of sin and grace without fear. The people who hear the word may be frowning. But the God who sends his word stands behind us smiling when we speak his words to them faithfully. His word will always be the final word. His side will always be the right side. We don’t have to be afraid when the words we speak are his.

            If the time comes that your pastor has to have a little heart to heart with you, understand the prophet’s task. He hasn’t been sent to make you happy. He has been sent to save your soul. God doesn’t send him to be popular or well-liked. He sends him to be honest and love you enough to tell you what you need to hear. In every case, remember that his task is to seek the people the Lord has redeemed for himself.

Ezekiel 2:3-5 “I am sending you to the Israelites, to a rebellious nation that has rebelled against me; they and their fathers have been in revolt against me to this very day. The people to whom I am sending you are obstinate and stubborn. Say to them, ‘This is what the Sovereign Lord says.’ And whether they listen or fail to listen–for they are a rebellious house– they will know that a prophet has been among them.”

Did you get what God was trying to say about the nation of Israel, the people to whom he was sending the prophet Ezekiel? A rebellious nation, in revolt, obstinate, stubborn, a rebellious house–the terms are even stronger and more colorful in the Hebrew. From the day Israel left Egypt 850 years before Ezekiel, from the time of the forefathers of this nation five hundred years before that, they were a people that defied God at every turn. The story of their lives reads like a soap opera, or a tragedy. Greed, lust, betrayal, murder, and ultimately, abandonment of their faith had brought even God to his wits end. These were key to his decision to send the prophet Ezekiel on this task to call them to repentance.

Thank God we aren’t like that, right? Maybe 20 years ago Danny was sitting in the 7^th and 8^th grade Sunday school class studying the history of Israel’s wandering in the wilderness. After all God had done to help them, after all the power he had shown, Danny was simply incredulous that these people could be so thick, and complain so much, and rebel so often. They accused God of trying to starve them to death, worshiped the golden calf, refused to go into the promised land, rebelled against Moses’ leadership, and on and on. What was wrong with those people? “Now Danny,” his teacher would remind him. “Maybe they aren’t so different than us.” I don’t know what examples he gave, or what might have happened in Danny’s life to confirm the observation. But after about six weeks of these stories, Danny was the one who offered, “Maybe they aren’t so different than us.”

Maybe. If we were so good, and had our lives all together, and our faith was so secure, why would God have to send us a prophet to preach his word? Understand that the prophet’s task is to deliver God’s message to rebels. We need to own that about ourselves. We need to be corrected. We should expect Christianity to confront us. We need it to make us feel uncomfortable. We don’t need to go looking for a message that never challenges us and fits our current thinking in every way. Otherwise, how can any change for the better ever happen?

Isn’t it a matter of grace that God sends his prophets to rebels such as you and me? He doesn’t reject us and annihilate us for turning against him. He seeks us to turn us and make us his children. He offers forgiveness for the sins we commit. He sacrificed his own Son on a cross to redeem us and free us and make us his own. Don’t misunderstand. He is not content to leave us rebels. He will not be finished with us until he has transformed us entirely into obedient sons and daughters. But the prophet’s task is to deliver his message to rebels until we are changed into allies by his love.

Ezekiel 2:1-2 “He said to me, ‘Son of man, stand up on your feet and I will speak to you.’ As he spoke the Spirit came into me and raised me to my feet, and I heard him speaking to me.”

When the judge enters the courtroom, what does the bailiff say? “All rise.” When the bride appears at the back of the church and begins her march down the aisle, what do the guests do? They stand. When a superior officer enters a room where soldiers are gathered, what do they do in the officer’s presence? They stand up and salute. “Stand up in the presence of the aged, show respect for the elderly,” Moses commanded in the book of Leviticus (19:32). Standing is not the only way, but it is one way that we show respect.

So the Lord was about to speak to Ezekiel, and he commands the prophet to stand up. Back up a little in this vision, and you find Ezekiel showing deep respect in another way with body language: He bowed down with his face to the ground. Now the Lord not only commanded the prophet to stand. He sent his Spirit into the man and made it happen.

We have a similar moment in our worship each week. In churches that use the historic Christian liturgy, a lesson from one of the four gospels is read each Sunday. This is the part of God’s word that speaks specifically about Jesus, the very heart and soul of Christian faith. To hear those words, we don’t sit back and relax in our seats. It is not a casual moment. We do something that may feel a little stiff and formal. But it wants to deliver a subtle message about respect for God and his word. We stand up to hear the gospel. It’s a way that we recognize something significant is happening in these words. We stand in respect for the story they tell.

The point isn’t the outward ceremony. The point is, this is God’s word, and we take it with the utmost seriousness. This must be especially true for the man God sends to preach it. The prophet, the preacher, the pastor, must be convinced that he has been given the very words of God. These are not his plaything, so much Play-Doh or Silly Putty he has been given to bend and shape and twist until they look and sound the way he wants. They are not a collection of sanctified opinions, more or less human speculations about what God might demand, or how he might operate, that he can safely set aside because the times have changed, and we know better now, and that way doesn’t work anymore.

People have called me a “fundamentalist” because I try to understand the words of the Bible the way they read on the page, the way they read in their context, and approach them as the very revelation of God speaking to us. They called Ezekiel and the prophets, Jesus and his disciples, far worse for respecting the words on the page and taking them this way. Understand that the prophet’s task is to respect what God says and deliver it to you clear and unvarnished, not try to make it more palatable or sensible for modern ears.

What might this mean for us? There is a scene in the Disney movie Aladdin in which the hero has just let the genie out of the bottle. After a little song and dance about all the possibilities this offers Aladdin, the genie tells him, “There are a few provisos, a couple of quid pro quos. Rule number one, I can’t kill anybody. So don’t ask. Rule number two, I can’t make anyone fall in love with anybody else…Rule number three, I can’t bring people back from the dead. It’s not a pretty picture. I don’t like doing it.”

In a similar way, the faithful preacher of God’s word wants to serve you and give you even greater gifts than the genie in Aladdin. God does like bringing people back from the dead. It is the whole point of giving us his Son, forgiving our sins, and bringing us faith. So the preacher has to respect what God says. Don’t ask him to modify the rules or play fast and loose with the words because we want something God forbids. To paraphrase the genie, “It’s not a pretty picture. I don’t like doing it.” Give the message, the one who gives it, and the one who delivers it, respect.

Mark 5:40-42 “After he put them all out, he took the child’s father and mother and the disciples who were with him, and went in where the child was. He took her by the hand and said to her, ‘Talitha koum!’ (which means, ‘Little girl, I say to you, get up!’). Immediately the girl stood up and walked around (she was twelve years old). At this they were completely astonished.”

Jesus wasn’t a First Century version of David Copperfield, Criss Angel, Penn and Teller, or your personal favorite stage magician. His power allowed him to control the weather and quiet storms. We would be happy if we could just predict it. He made paralyzed people walk, without surgeries, stem cell treatments, or physical therapy. He made blind people, who had never been able to see their whole lives, not only see, but know what to do with all these images that suddenly came flooding into their minds, as if they had been seeing their entire lives. And at least three times, including here, he made people with no pulse, no breath, no brain activity live again.

That’s not to say that when someone we love dies, we should expect Jesus to wake them back up to more of what this sad, broken world has to offer. The cases when that serves a good purpose are rare.

But still today he is speaking a word of power and life that wakes the spiritually dead to a new life of faith. “I tell you the truth, a time is coming and has now come when the dead will hear the voice of the Son of God and those who hear will live. For as the Father has life in himself, so he has granted the Son to have life in himself” (John 5:25-26).

And he promises a day is coming when he will speak a similar word of power and life. “Do not be amazed at this, for a time is coming when all who are in their graves will hear his voice and come out,” he promises. “Those who have done good will rise to live, and those who have done evil will rise to be condemned.” Jesus’ powerful word will give us life from the dead. So his promise confirms our faith, and we are no longer afraid.

Jesus speaks, dead hearts beat with faith, and dead bodies come to life. Hear that word, and you will live.

Mark 5:35-40 “While Jesus was still speaking, some men came from the house of Jairus, the synagogue ruler. ‘Your daughter is dead,’ they said. ‘Why bother the teacher anymore?’ Ignoring what they said, Jesus told the synagogue ruler, ‘Don’t be afraid; just believe.’ He did not let anyone follow him except Peter, James, and John the brother of James. When they came to the home of the synagogue ruler, Jesus saw a commotion, with people crying and wailing loudly. He went in and said to them, ‘Why all this commotion and wailing? The child is not dead but asleep.’ And they laughed at him.”

We know the day will come when the doctors can’t put us back together again. We have to let go of life. We have to let go of those we love. We can’t let it make us let go of Jesus. That is the temptation. “Why bother the teacher anymore?”

When death challenges our faith like that, that is just when Jesus is most useful. That is when he offers you and me the same comfort, the same invitation he gave to Jairus. “Don’t be afraid. Just believe.”

There is another enemy of faith in this story. The unbelieving see death as final and permanent. It is only sad. Even among the Jews, who generally believed in the resurrection, Jesus found the scene at the home of Jairus too much. The Jewish people of Jesus’ time often employed professional mourners, as though more tears and louder cries somehow honored the person who had passed. Tears are appropriate at a funeral when they are genuine, and they do honor the dead. But God’s people shouldn’t grieve like those who regard death as final, and permanent, and only sad. Those people may gather to “celebrate a life.” But all they can do is remember the past, and think about what they have lost.

When we have Jesus, we have something to look forward to, a happy future with those who have died. Jesus is the Prince of Life. Even if he did not intend to raise this little girl from the dead on this very day, his words “The child is not dead but asleep” were comforting and true, and the people at Jairus’s home should have known better. Even as Old Testament believers, Moses had taught them that the Lord was the “gracious and compassionate God, slow to anger, abounding in love, forgiving wickedness, rebellion and sin.” David revealed that “He does not treat us as our sins deserve.” Daniel wrote that “Multitudes who sleep in the dust of the earth will awake: some to everlasting life…Those who are wise will shine like the brightness of the heavens.”

So Jesus was not the first to suggest that death was more like a sleep, or to know the reason why this should be so. He was simply the one who came to make it all a reality by dying to win our forgiveness, and rising to promise us life. And now he was here, at the home of Jairus, assuring the sad parents their daughter was merely asleep, and that she would wake to life again.

“But they laughed at him.” They still do, and at us for believing him. Atheist Richard Dawkins mocks Christian faith in God as ridiculous as believing in “flying spaghetti monsters.” Comedian and talk show host Bill Maher calls Christian faith in God “the purposeful suspension of critical thinking” and the God of the Bible a “psychopath.” Over 55 years ago, after Soviet cosmonaut Yuri Gagarin became the first man in space, Soviet Premier Nikita Khrushchev dismissed the idea of God by saying, “Gagarin flew into space but didn’t see any god there.” And so it goes.

Smart people, funny people, powerful people, and perhaps a few people we know personally mock our faith, and perhaps we start to have our own doubts. “Don’t be afraid.” Jesus says. “Just Believe.”

Mark 5:21-24 “When Jesus had again crossed over by boat to the other side of the lake, a large crowd gathered around him while he was by the lake. Then one of the synagogue rulers, named Jairus, came there. Seeing Jesus, he fell at his feet and pleaded earnestly with him, ‘My little daughter is dying. Please come and put your hands on her so that she will be healed and live.’ So Jesus went with him.”

Death is the big enemy we can’t seem to beat. We can hold it off for a while, but eventually it is going to win. As a professor of mine used to say, “The death rate has remained constant through all human history: one per person.” In his letter to the Corinthians Paul described it this way: “The last enemy to be destroyed is death” (1 Cor. 15:26). Death had come knocking at the home of a man named Jairus, and it posed a challenge to his faith.

Throughout the gospels, the men who were leaders in the synagogues were generally against Jesus. They didn’t support his ministry. As such a leader in his synagogue, Jairus was likely a relatively wealthy and respected man. If anyone in town had the resources and access to get his daughter the best possible care, it would be him.

But none of that had worked. The unrelenting approach of his daughter’s death drove Jairus to Jesus to seek his help. He knew about the miracles Jesus had been performing. By this time everyone did. Jesus was his last hope, and time was running out.

There are no atheists in foxholes, they say. A number of years ago I read in article in which an atheist scientist described how his atheistic mother who was dying of cancer would call out to God and ask him “why” in the worst of her pain. When it passed, she would wonder why she did that because he didn’t believe in God. The imminent threat of death can move even hardened unbelievers to pray.

And death is never very far away. We have medical know-how that is unequaled in history–chemicals, compounds, machines, devices, and knowledge that have added almost 30 years to the average person’s life over the last 100 years. But each time we cure one disease, it seems like three new ones pop up. Each new mass shooting, each new natural catastrophe, every report of a fatal accident, every terrorist attack is a reminder that I or someone I love might not make it home alive today.

The third stanza of the hymn I Walk in Danger All the Way reminds us, “Grim death pursues me all the way; Nowhere I rest securely. He comes by night, he comes by day, And takes his prey most surely.” You don’t have to be sick to know it’s just a matter of time.

Like Jairus, then, we need to realize how weak and helpless we are in the face of death. We need to be aware that our time is short. We need to let it drive us to Jesus as our only hope, our only help. Like the old standard prayer for those who mourn a death, we need to let it “teach us to number our days aright, that we may gain hearts of wisdom and finally be saved.”

Acts 27:22-25 “But now I urge you to keep up your courage, because not one of you will be lost; only the ship will be destroyed. Last night an angel of the God whose I am and whom I serve stood beside me and said, ‘Do not be afraid, Paul. You must stand trial before Caesar; and God has graciously given you the lives of all who sail with you. So keep up your courage, men, for I have faith in God that it will happen just as he told me.”

Note that this was a very specific promise for a very specific situation. God sent an angel to give Paul a revelation about this unique situation. It was not a promise that no one would ever die in a shipwreck. We can’t take the angel’s words, just as they are, and apply them to ourselves.

Note, too, that it wasn’t a promise that the storm would stop immediately. God’s promise offered a source of calm within the storm, while it was still raging. It didn’t mean the storm stopped blowing and beating on the ship altogether. The ship would still be lost. The cargo would still be gone. But the lives of 276 people on board were going to be spared.

Don’t underestimate the power and grace of this promise for the people who had given up hope and were convinced they could not be saved. I don’t know whether or not the other people on the boat believed Paul. But Paul certainly believed the promise. He may have a rough ride to go, but he knew that he was going to live, and so were the others with him. This was a bright light in a dark place, practically receiving their lives back from the dead. This was hope where all hope was gone, and it was entirely the gift of God, an expression of his grace for people who could do nothing to save themselves.

So, while this promise may not be ours directly, it reminds us that we do have promises for us to seize and hold onto in the middle of our storms: “If you make the Most High your dwelling– even the Lord, who is my refuge– then no harm will befall you, no disaster will come near your tent. For he will command his angels concerning you, to guard you in all your ways; they will lift you up in their hands, so that you will not strike your foot against a stone” (Psalm 91:9-12).

Even if it appears that the current crisis will take our lives, he promises, “And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose” (Romans 8:28). And “Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword? As it is written: ‘For your sake we face death all day long; we are considered as sheep to be slaughtered.’ No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future nor any powers, neither height nor depth nor anything else in all creation will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord” (Romans 8:35-39).

And when our consciences are getting the best of us, overwhelming us with storms of guilt, we seize God’s promise, “He does not treat us as our sins deserve, or repay us according to our iniquities. For as high as the heavens are above the earth, so great is his love for those who fear him; as far as the east is from the west, so far has he removed our transgressions from us” (Psalm 103:10-12). We know that these promises are all true in the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ.

These, then, are our calm in the storms of life and faith, our hope when all hope is gone. Seize them, never let them go, and you will always be safe from the storm.