And when evening was come, the ship was in the midst of the sea, and *he* alone upon the land.
Evening comes after the feeding of the five thousand. The disciples are far out on the water; Jesus is alone on the shore. Commentators find in this one verse a picture of where the Lord is now and where His people are meanwhile.
The narrative itself hints that the disciples did not want to obey. One writer traces their reluctance to the mood of the crowd after the miracle.
An unwillingness on the part of the disciples to obey seems implied in the terms of the narrative. From John 6 we learn the probable reason why the apostles needed to be "constrained," or forced, to put to sea. The miracle of the loaves had stirred great excitement in that lonely place. The crowd wanted to take Him by force and proclaim Him the Prophet and King of the Jews. The disciples had not taken in enough of their Master's spirit to judge this impulse rightly. They would probably have sided with the mob to place Him on the throne of David.
Behind that refusal lies a principle about the source of His kingdom.
The Lord would not take the kingdom from zeal like this. This could not be the source of the kingdom of the Son of Man... This would have put Him on the throne of Israel on little better terms than Saul long before. His kingdom would have been the fruit of the people's heated desire, as Saul's had been the fruit of their rebellious heart. But this could not be.
Crowd dismissed, disciples at sea, Christ apart. Writers read this as a small model of the time after His ascension.
The people, instead of being gathered to the Lord as their King, have been for a season at least set aside. He dismissed the crowd because of their unbelief. He has left Israel for a time and gone on high to take the place of intercession. And while the Lord is there, the disciples are exposed to all the storms and changes of this lower scene... They have their work to do, but apparently they make no progress. Yet in the middle of everything running against them, He comes again.
Another writer follows the night through to its end.
All of this pictures the marvellous grace He shows in this present age. It also pictures His present work of intercession in the presence of God above. He remained alone there until the fourth watch of the night, which is the break of day. This matches the end of the tribulation period, after Israel has endured the contrary winds of that dreadful time.
One writer reads the land as Christ Himself, and adds that the distance did not take His eye off them.
He does send them away. So the Jewish nation was dismissed, after Christ had done everything possible in compassion. And Christ takes up His work of intercession on high. And when it was late, "the boat was out on the sea, and he was alone on the land." So He is that land of rest, and yet His eye was not off them. He sees them worn out with rowing.
You might expect His prayers to calm the sea. The same writer says otherwise.
Note, the intercession of Christ does not necessarily give peace to the Church while He is absent. The wind remains contrary, and they were toiling at the oars, though going and working according to the Lord's will. In fact, being in the place the Lord sets us in, and working by virtue of His intercession, often brings on the opposition of the enemy. This lasts until He steps into the boat in present power, and the enemy himself is silenced and bound... I repeat, a contrary wind and Christ's intercession go together.
One writer places that mountain of prayer in the present, then counts the miles.
He Himself went up into a mountain to pray. That is where He is now, on the mountain, so to speak, in intercession. Scripture says, "He always lives to make intercession for them" (Hebrews 7:25)... The distance they had to go was only about ten miles. But in nine hours they had covered "five-and-twenty or thirty furlongs" — a little over three miles. We make little progress if we have not the Lord with us.
One writer takes the words "He saw them" and presses home the comfort in them.
"He saw them toiling at the oars." You are labouring, it may be in some kind of service or work. It is uphill, very hard, it takes a great deal out of you, and you are often depressed. Now think of this. The darkness of night did not hide them. Nor did the earnest watch He kept in prayer on the mountain-top. Nor did the storm-lashed lake they were crossing. None of these had hidden His poor servants from the Master's eyes.
- Sent — Jesus forced the disciples into the boat; He would not take a crown from the crowd's excitement.
- Apart — Israel dismissed, the disciples at sea, Christ on high in intercession: a small picture of the present time.
- Land — He alone on the land is Himself the place of rest, and His eye never left the boat.
- Wind — His prayers on high do not always calm the storm; a contrary wind and His intercession go together.
- Seen — Nine hours of rowing gained three miles, but nothing about that night hid them from His eyes, and He came.
And seeing them labouring in rowing, for the wind was contrary to them, about the fourth watch of the night he comes to them walking on the sea, and would have passed them by.
Night has fallen on the Sea of Galilee. The disciples are alone in a boat, straining against a headwind. Jesus is on the mountain praying, and He sees them the whole time.
The night is dark and no one in the boat can see the Lord. Mark's point is that He could see them. (Older translations say they were "toiling in rowing"; the ESV says "making headway painfully.")
Now think of this, "He saw them toiling in rowing." The darkness of night had not hidden them. Nor had the hours He spent in prayer on the mountain-top. Nor had the storm-lashed lake they were crossing. None of these things had hidden His poor servants from the Master's eyes: "He saw them." What a comfort that is! What a comfort for us all, whatever kind of "rowing" it is, whatever kind of work or danger we meet as we sail over the sea of life.
They were rowing into a wind the Lord Himself had sent them into. That raised a hard question about Him.
They had been pulling at the oars with all their might without making any headway. This was weary work, and dispiriting too. And yet had not the Lord Himself made them get into the boat that evening? They might have reflected that it was, in effect, He who had set them to this work of rowing straight into a strong gale. Such a reflection would give rise to unworthy thoughts of Him.
One writer reads the shape of the scene as a picture. The Lord sends the crowd away, goes up the mountain alone, and leaves His followers on the water below.
He has dismissed the crowd because of their unbelief; He has departed from Israel for a time, and gone on high to take the place of intercession. And while the Lord is there, the disciples face all the storms and changes of this lower scene… The Lord has gone on high now. He is not with the crowd, and He is not present in person with the disciples either. They have their work to do, but apparently they make no progress. Yet in the middle of everything being against them, He comes again.
The fourth watch is the last stretch of the night, just before dawn. So He came at the very end, after a whole night of testing in the dark.
Surely they must have had some expectation that He would come to their relief. They would be blessed servants if their Lord came and found them watching, counting on Him in faith that He would not abandon them. But He came to them not in the second watch, nor in the third watch. Nor was it until the dark hour before the dawn that the bright and morning Star appeared.
The way He came was as striking as the timing. The water that defeated them held Him up.
They were troubled on seeing Him like this, for as yet they had not understood who Jesus was. They did not realise that the sea was His; He had made it. Truly, His way was in the sanctuary, but equally His way was in the sea and His paths in the great waters (Ps. 77:13, 19).
The last clause is the hardest. Why would He walk past His own people in trouble? One writer reads it as a test.
He tests their faith, just as He often tests believers today. We read that He "would have passed them by." His power, His intercession, His loving care are all at their disposal. But have they the faith to make use of His fulness? In their trouble they cry out, and "immediately He spoke to them," saying, "It is I. Do not be afraid." He may come to them in the glory of His power, above all storms, but He assures them that it is Himself — Jesus, their Saviour, Shepherd, Friend.
Another writer asks what that passing by was for.
Why did He act as though He would pass them by? To call out from them the faintest cry of want and need of Him. That is what it is. It was not that He was indifferent, that He did not feel; no, it certainly was not that!
- Seen. Darkness, distance and the storm hid nothing: from the mountain He saw every stroke of the oars.
- Sent. He had put them into that contrary wind Himself, so hard rowing with no progress was not proof of His neglect.
- Absent, not indifferent. Writers read the Lord praying on the mountain and His own on the storm-tossed sea as a picture of now — He on high interceding, His people below.
- Late, not too late. Not the second or third watch, but the dark hour before dawn — the bright and morning Star came when the night was blackest.
- Passing by. He came near and seemed to go on, looking for a cry of faith; the moment they cried out He spoke, and the fear ended with "It is I."
But they, seeing him walking on the sea, thought that it was an apparition, and cried out.
The disciples are alone in a boat at night, rowing against the wind. They see a figure walking on the water, and the sight frightens them more than the storm did. Why did the one person who could help them look like something to fear?
They did not mistake Jesus for another man. They decided that what they saw was not real at all.
He came within their sight, and He would have passed them by. He looked for His appearance to awaken some impulse of appeal to Him, for they all saw Him, as Mark tells us. There was, however, no intelligent recognition of their Master on the part of the apostles. We read that they cried out in fear, because they supposed they saw a phantom. The vision on the waves, they thought, was not real — an apparition — the creation of their own imagination.
Their guess was wrong at the one point that mattered. The figure had a body and a voice — and one writer sees the raging sea as a picture of the nations.
This miracle is meant to impress us with the greatness of His power over the Gentile sea of nations. He is in sovereign control even while they are still raging, and in the end He will bring them all under Him, as Son of Man. For He is Man, not a spirit, and His voice calms their troubled hearts.
They saw clearly. What they lacked was any grasp of who it was that could treat deep water as a road.
They were troubled at seeing Him like this, because they had not yet understood who Jesus was. They did not realise that the sea was His; He had made it. Truly, His way was in the sanctuary, but equally His way was in the sea and His paths in the great waters (Ps. 77:13, 19).
So the problem was not their eyesight. They saw Him, and were terrified.
Believed in, that same sight would be the spring of the deepest comfort. Left as a matter of sight only — even if it is Jesus — it turns into an occasion of fear! So little can we trust ourselves, and so endlessly are we indebted to God and His word. I say that the word revealing Jesus is a totally different thing from our own thoughts, our own sight, even if it were so.
The wind and waves had not made them scream. This did.
The little group was deluded, despite the power they had lately received and used over evil spirits. The appearance of their Master filled them with more alarm than the fury of the storm seems to have done. That fear — the fear of the unknown — took hold of them.
He seemed about to pass them by. The test was whether they would call out to Him at all.
Still, He tests their faith, as believers are often tested today. We read that He "meant to pass by them." His power, His intercession, His loving care are all at their disposal. But do they have the faith to make use of His fullness? In their trouble they cry out, and immediately He spoke to them: "Take heart; it is I. Do not be afraid." He may come to them in the glory of His power, above all storms. But He assures them that it is Himself — Jesus, their Saviour, Shepherd, Friend.
Their fear had a cause older than the storm.
Sadly, like ourselves too often, the disciples had not "considered" the greatness of His power and grace shown on an earlier occasion. They were taken up with themselves and their difficulties. So their hearts had grown hard, and they could hardly draw on their resources in Christ.
One writer reads the night crossing as a picture of a longer absence: Christ on high, His people making slow progress below.
The Lord has gone on high now; He is not with the multitude, nor is He bodily present with the disciples. He has left the Jews for the time; He is also away from the disciples. They have their work to do, but apparently they make no progress. But in the middle of everything being against them He comes again.
- Absent, not indifferent. He had gone on high and left them rowing, yet His power, intercession and care were still theirs.
- Seen, not known. They all saw Him, yet took Him for a phantom, because they had not grasped that the sea belonged to its Maker.
- Sight, not faith. Believed, He would have been their deepest comfort. Only seen, He became their terror.
- Cry, then nearness. He moved as if to pass by, testing whether they would appeal to Him — and the moment they cried out, He spoke and came aboard.
- Forgotten, then feared. They had not considered His power and grace shown earlier, so the next storm found them defenceless. Remembering what He has already done steadies faith.
For all saw him and were troubled. And immediately he spoke with them, and says to them, Be of good courage it is *I*; be not afraid.
They had rowed all night, and the sight that should have calmed them terrified them instead. Mark says they all saw Him and all were afraid, until a voice they knew crossed the water and told them who He was.
Their eyes worked fine. They saw Him, and the sight still frightened them. One writer draws a sharp line between what the eye reports and what God's word tells us.
When we believe it, that very thing is the spring of the deepest comfort. When it is only a question of sight, it turns into an occasion of fear — even if it were Jesus! So little can we trust ourselves, and we owe everything to God and His word. The word that reveals Jesus is something entirely different from our own thoughts or our own sight, even when what we see is really Him.
His words do more than steady them. They carry a name.
They thought it was a ghost, and they cried out in fear. His cheerful call soon calmed them: "It is I" (or, "I am"), "be not afraid." He has never failed to draw near to His own in their hours of distress and need. He is the "I am" of Exodus 3:14. The possibilities involved in such a name forbid the smallest questioning of unbelief.
They had once seen Him asleep in a boat on this lake. Now He is walking on top of it.
The Jesus who as the lowly One had slept on the sea is the same Jesus who, as the mighty One, can walk upon the sea. So He can say to His disciples, "It is I; be not afraid."
The disciples never asked Him for help. Fear, not prayer, came out of the boat, and the answer came without a moment's delay.
The Lord never failed to supply His gracious help in the measure needed and at the moment needed. The disciples said no direct prayer to Him for help. But their cry of fear and distress stopped Him. At once He worked for their relief, calming their fears with His word.
Where He aims His first words shows where the real trouble was.
This time the Lord's first word went to the apostles. In the earlier storm His first word went to the waves and the sea. So He stepped in for a different reason in the two cases. The first time, danger had to be turned aside at once. The second time, a storm of fear was sweeping over the men's hearts. Their courage, nerve and confidence seemed to be gone... He said to them: (1) Be of good cheer; (2) It is I; (3) Be not afraid.
There is a strange detail just before these words. He came close, yet acted as if He would go straight past them.
He came in a way that showed He was above every circumstance they were in, for He came "walking on the water"... Still, He tests their faith, as believers are often tested in our day. We read that He "would have passed them by." His power, His intercession, His loving care are all at their disposal. But do they have the faith to draw on His fullness? In their trouble they cry out, "and immediately He talked with them," saying, "It is I; be not afraid." He may come to them in the glory of His power, above all storms. Yet He assures them that it is Himself.
- Sight fails. They all saw Him, and the sight terrified them. Only His word turned the same fact into comfort.
- The word given is a name. "It is I" can also be read "I am" — the name of Exodus 3:14, which leaves unbelief nothing to question.
- The name belongs to the same Person. The One walking on the sea is the same Jesus who once slept on it — the might is new, the Person is not.
- The name reaches them unasked. They offered no prayer, only a cry of fear; that cry stopped Him, and He spoke at once.
- The result is courage inside the storm. Unlike the earlier crossing, He speaks first to the men, not the waves: take heart, it is I, do not be afraid.
And he went up to them into the ship, and the wind fell. And they were exceedingly beyond measure astonished in themselves and wondered;
The disciples had fought a headwind all night. Then Jesus came to them across the water. The moment He steps into the boat, the wind drops. Mark records no worship in reply — only shock. What had they missed?
This was their second storm with Jesus. Commentators compare the two. In the earlier one He spoke to the wind and the sea. Here He speaks first to the men.
On this occasion the Lord's first word went to the apostles. In the previous storm His first word went to the waves and the sea. In the first case there was immediate danger to turn aside. In the second, a storm of fear was sweeping over the men's hearts. Their courage, nerve and confidence seemed to be spent. It seems that in the one case the chief trouble was outside and around them. In the other, the more pressing need was inside the troubled hearts of the disciples.
Only then does He step into the boat, and the wind falls. The order matters.
After He had spoken these words to them, He got into the boat with them, and the wind ceased. His word of comfort came first, and His act of deliverance followed.
Mark reports no command to the wind this time. Jesus gets in, and it stops.
The crossing of the lake showed the disciples once more who their Master was. The headwind held them back, and they struggled forward. He proved again that He was far above both wind and wave: He walked on the water, and He could have passed them by. His word calmed their fears, and His presence in their boat ended the storm. Even so, they still missed what it all meant.
Their amazement sounds like praise, but writers read it as a symptom. It was the reaction of a crowd, not of men who had handed out His bread that same afternoon.
The Lord showed them His personal control of the wild elements, and they were filled with wonder — the same wonder the crowds often showed in their thoughtless ignorance. Israel long ago tended to forget the LORD and their rescue from Egypt. In the same way, the worries of the moment wiped the wonderful mercies of the past from the minds of the disciples. They even forgot the miracle of the previous afternoon, when they had the honour of handing out the food He provided. That is the natural bent of our hearts, for they were men with the same nature as we have.
Writers look further ahead than the boat. Darby reads the calm as a picture of the day Jesus returns to His people.
"And He got into the boat with them, and the wind ceased." Again, this passage does not speak of the judgment of His enemies. It speaks of what will happen to His people among the Jews when He returns. Then the world will be full of joy again. The land of Gennesaret once sent the Saviour away, after He had healed the man with demons. Now it receives Him and owns Him, and everywhere the people enjoy His presence with delight.
Another writer ties the calm to a psalm about God quieting the sea.
He got into the boat, and the wind ceased. The Lord had rejoined them, and the elements were still. So it will be in the future, when He appears to His earthly people and for them. In the fullest sense He will turn the storm into a calm, so that its waves are still (Psalm 107:29).
If the calm belongs to His return, the rowing belongs to now.
While our Lord is away, it is good for our souls to know that difficulties should not discourage us. We need not be cast down when the wind is against us and we ourselves are toiling in vain — yet not in vain.
- He speaks first. In the earlier storm His word went to the waves; here it goes to the men, because the worst tempest was inside them.
- He gets in. Mark records no command to the wind. His presence in the boat ends the storm.
- He is missed. Their shock matched the thoughtless wonder of the crowds. The worry of the night had erased the mercy of the afternoon.
- He returns. Writers read the scene as a preview. He rejoins His own, the wind drops, and a land that once sent Him away welcomes Him.
- He is coming. Until then the wind stays contrary and the rowing is hard — but not, Kelly says, wasted.
for they understood not through the loaves for their heart was hardened.
Mark ends the story of Jesus walking on the water with a hard word about His own disciples. Their fear on the lake goes back to the meal they had just helped Him serve. How could men who had watched thousands fed be shaken by wind and water the same night?
One commentator sets the disciples' confession beside Mark's closing note:
As they entered the boat, they recognised Him as the Son of God. Mark records their amazement, but he also reminds us that our Lord's work was not yet done. They did not consider the miracle of the loaves, for their heart was hardened.
The verb for "understanding" means more than knowing what happened:
The apostles failed for two reasons: (1) they did not understand the loaves, and (2) their heart was hardened. Translators have rendered the verb for "understanding" in different ways. On the whole it seems to mean putting things together in the mind and heart, so as to work out by spiritual reflection what they truly mean.
The feeding showed more than power. It had a purpose for the disciples themselves, and that was the part they missed:
They saw in the miracle the work of His almighty hand. But they failed to see in it the intense love of His heart for needy men. They had watched the feeding of the five thousand and had shared in the work. That act of mercy was meant to satisfy hungry mouths and to wake up lazy hearts as well. It was one more proof that Jehovah Himself was present in Israel, giving His people bread. But the hearts of the disciples were so dull that they missed the meaning of His presence. So they lacked that source of comfort in the hour of their trial.
Hardness of heart was not only found in the Lord's enemies:
The Lord came over the waves looking for faithfulness and confidence in the hearts of the disciples. Instead He found deadly dullness and a heart that could not feel. There was hardness or blindness of heart in them, as well as in the Pharisees (Mark 3:5), in Israel (Rom. 11:7, 25; 2 Cor. 3:14), and in the Gentiles (Eph. 4:18). So Jesus found no answer in the apostles to the work of His love. When He rescued them from the fury of the storm they had been fighting in vain, they were completely astonished. If they expected rescue at all, they did not expect it like that. Yet their hard hearts were melted, and "those in the boat worshiped him, saying, 'Truly you are the Son of God'" (Matt. 14:33).
Taken up with their own trouble, they lost the good of what they had already seen:
Sadly, like ourselves too often, the disciples had not "considered" the greatness of His power and grace shown on an earlier occasion. Occupied with themselves and their difficulties, their hearts were hardened and little able to make use of their resources in Christ.
The dullness was not a one-off, and it did not stop the Lord's work:
As to themselves, despite all His miracles, their hearts at that time were still hard, and they forgot the miracles, one after the other. The Lord goes on with His work of blessing. People had only to touch Him and be healed.
These were the men the Lord told to feed the crowd:
It was to such disciples, in such a poor condition, that the Lord said, "You give them something to eat." It is very important that we understand this, because the Lord is asking us to serve Him. Does He ask us to work for Him because we are skilled workers? Because we have great gift? Because we are clever, sophisticated people? Not at all!
- Consider. The word behind "did not understand" means putting things together in mind and heart until their real meaning comes out. The disciples had the facts. They skipped the thinking.
- Miss the love. They saw almighty power in the loaves, but not the heart behind it. The miracle was meant to feed hungry mouths and wake lazy hearts at once.
- Hardness spreads. The same hard heart found in the Pharisees showed up in the twelve disciples. Being close to Christ is no protection.
- Self-occupation hardens. Absorbed in their own storm, they could not draw on resources that were already theirs in Christ.
- Grace persists. Their hearts were still hard, yet He kept blessing and healing. He still handed them the work. Service rests on what He is, not on their record.