If there is a message in the structure of a text, then the message of today's Gospel reading should not be missed. It begins with Jesus and his disciples withdrawing "to a desolate place" to "rest a while." It ends with Jesus withdrawing to "the mountain to pray." Between these two periods of withdrawal, there is the feeding of the five thousand with fives loaves and two fish. Most attention, naturally, is focused on that miraculous sign as well as the many other signs Jesus performs throughout Mark's Gospel. But there is a message to be heard in Mark's recurrent emphasis on Jesus withdrawing to desolate places and climbing mountains.
Mark, in fact, chronicles Jesus' entire earthly ministry along this work-rest-work-rest cycle. It is an intentional replication of the pattern of creation, punctuating Jesus' declaration concerning the Sabbath (Mark 2.27-28). The periodic time of withdrawal and rest is not incidental to Jesus' ministry. It is an integral part of it. His work is not complete without it.
In the same way, the Sabbath, as God established it, is not incidental to his work of creation. It is an integral part of it. The Sabbath hallows the work of the previous six days and makes creation whole. But, as the numerous incidents of death, disease, and suffering recounted by Mark make clear, that wholeness has been marred by the Fall. Jesus came proclaiming a Gospel of repentance, redemption, and restoration. He came to make creation whole again.
In the cross of Christ I glory,
Towering o’er the wrecks of time;
All the light of sacred story
Gathers round its head sublime.
When the woes of life o’ertake me,
Hopes deceive, and fears annoy,
Never shall the cross forsake me,
Lo! it glows with peace and joy.
When the sun of bliss is beaming
Light and love upon my way,
From the cross the radiance streaming
Adds more luster to the day.
Bane and blessing, pain and pleasure,
By the cross are sanctified;
Peace is there that knows no measure,
Joys that through all time abide.
In the cross of Christ I glory,
Towering o’er the wrecks of time;
All the light of sacred story
Gathers round its head sublime.
- John Bowring
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