This past week I found myself right at home in Mark 6. The disciples are sent out two by two, preaching, casting out demons, and anointing the sick. After a time they return to Jesus and tell “him all that they had done and taught” (6:30, NRSV) Jesus replies, "Come away by yourselves to a deserted place all by yourselves and rest a while" (31). Sometimes that's exactly what we want to hear, the expectation we have as we climb into the boat with Jesus. Listen for what really happens: “Now many saw them going and recognized them, and they hurried there on foot from all the towns and arrived ahead of them” (33). The disciples did not get the deserted place they wanted. What the disciples do get is a boat ride with Jesus between crowds. This book and this evening is about the boat ride. What happens, what needs to happen when we're sent out, when we're serving, and when we're on the boat journeying with Christ on the way to the next crowd so that we get off the boat and continue serving like Jesus? “As he went ashore, he saw a great crowd; and he had compassion for them, because they were like sheep without a shepherd; and he began to teach them many things” (34). Whatever happened on that boat, Jesus sets foot ashore and demonstrates an enduring ministry.

Neither too hot nor too cold

is the greater danger

to common life.

Hot heads fuel fear,

cold hearts still harmonies,

yet nothing sours the will for good

like the bite of indifference.

“Behold,” the Holy One calls, “I stand at the door and knock.”

We may not have

the fire to drive him away

nor the ice to refuse him,

but let us not be caught

humming to ourselves,

pretending he’s not there.

Set down tepid ways,

rise up,

and put a hand to the latch.