(Mark 6:30-44)
If you’ve been following along with Mark’s telling of Jesus’ story, you’ll realize that Jesus always seems to be on the move: First he was here, then he got up and went there, and after a while he got tired of the crowds, so he loaded up the Mystery Machine and headed for some place different. Mark appears almost breathless trying to keep up.
Same thing happens in our text this morning. Jesus has sent the disciples out, telling them to take nothing for their journey, and whenever they enter a town that doesn’t welcome them, they’re supposed to shake the dust off their Birkenstocks when they leave.
Remember that?
Our story today picks up with the return of the disciples from their first mission. Jesus tells them, “Let’s go find someplace comfortable, where you can kick back and put your feet up for a while. So, they get in a boat and take off to find a deserted place where they can get a little peace and quiet.
But the weird thing is, there’s another story wedged in between when Jesus sends the disciples and when they return in our text for this morning. And it’s doozy.
In between is the story of Herod Antipas’s birthday party and the beheading of John the Baptist, which occurs just prior to our text for this morning.
Remember that story?
Let me refresh your memory for a moment. Herod throws a dinner party in honor of himself—it was his birthday, after all. He’s got everybody there, apparently. They brought out Mother’s china, dusted off the really good wine, and had some Afro-Cuban band that was tearing things up. Epic party.
Then his daughter comes out on the dance floor; and if all the gossip columnists got it right, she does a number that starts melting people’s faces off. Herod is so completely overwrought at the spectacle and wants to show off in front of the crowd at his party that he promises his daughter anything.
What she asks for, however, is the head of John the Baptist on a platter. Herod doesn’t want to do it, doesn’t want to kill John the Baptist, since, as Mark reminds us, Herod is afraid of John—but he’s already shot off his mouth in front of that crowd at his party, and he’s more afraid of looking like an idiot before the crowd; so the head of John the Baptist is what his dancing daughter gets.
Like a murder mystery, you’re following the story closely, when the author drops a hint that you’re supposed to pick up on, usually a connection between two things. So, you read what appears to be a throw away detail—the murderer is wearing a read scarf at the murder scene. Later in the book, everyone shows up to the dinner party at the mansion, and one of the lead characters (the one nobody suspects) is said to be wearing a red scarf. And you know. The author drops a hint; you make the connection, and you know.
Our passage on the feeding of the five thousand this morning opens with the line, “The apostles gathered around Jesus, and told him all that they had done and taught.”
Do you see the problem? There’s not even any mention of the unfortunate misplacement of John’s head. It just gets dropped into the middle of Jesus and his pal’s peripatetic travelogue.
Weird, right? What do we make of this odd interlude? (I’ll get to that in a minute.)
Back to our story for today. Jesus and the disciples are heading out for a little R&R. But the problem is, the crowd saw them leave—and followed along and were waiting for Jesus when he paddled up to the shore. So much for a little alone time.
Jesus—Mark tells us—has compassion on the crowd and teach them many things. Jesus’ disciples see all of this, and as evening draws nigh, they approach Jesus with some anxiety. They say, “Boss, it’s getting late, and there isn’t even a Circle K on this exit. Tell the crowd to disperse, go back a couple of exits and find something to eat.”
But why are the disciples so hesitant? They, like Herod, know that when crowds don’t get what they want, things can awkward quickly.
By wedging the story of the state sponsored execution of John the Baptist between the sending of the disciples on a mission and their return, Mark cleverly draws together two seemingly unrelated stories by dropping hints about the crowd.
In the prior story, Herod is afraid of the crowd.He winds up giving in to the impulse to kill that meddling John the Baptist because he’s afraid that he’ll look weak for not keeping his promise in front of the crowd assembled in his man cave. Herod’s actions are in part motivated by fear of looking weak to the crowd.