“Sorrowful, yet always rejoicing — having nothing, yet possessing everything." This is the tension of the Christian life, and particularly the tension of Advent. Jesus has come. Jesus is coming. And here we wait, with the reality and glory revealed, but not yet fully realized.

The Kingship of Jesus Christ is the final, ultimate reality that levels anything else that might stand, and is the hidden reality that is invisibly at work in us and in the church. If we can see the regard and generous kindness of the King then we have the security of a comfort of being known and loved by the only one who truly understands us. Trusting in this unseen reality frees us from burdens that otherwise entangle us.

We are, like the disciples for those first 40 years, living in the time of the "birth pains”. We know that new life is emerging, we know that we have "died with Christ and been raised with him," and we're also walking around in these failing bodies, seeking to walk by faith in service that often looks a lot like "filling up in our bodies the sufferings of Christ”. We all live here longing for the King to return and bring our chaos back into order.

So this is the first commandment, the most important commandment, the aim and direction of all the cosmos — to respond in love to the God of love, to echo back in joy to the earth and the heavens the image of God as we were made to do.

Jesus always responds to those who call to him in faith. He never elevates his mission above the people who cry to him, because his mission is the people who cry to him. He's just told the disciples that he came to "to serve and to give his life as a ransom for many" — and here is one of them, this blind beggar who has the audacity and faith to believe that Jesus might have time for him, might have mercy for him, might be willing to help him in his need.

The young man says: "what do I have to I do to get life that actually feels alive?” He already has wealth and power—and he's a little bit desperate because he knows that it's not enough. At the very least, he knows that he will eventually die and then all that he has now will be lost to him. And Jesus, in love, invites him to enter life.

Jesus understands how hard marriage can be. In fact, Jesus, of all people, understands what it means to bind oneself in covenant to a broken person—to someone who has hurt you and will hurt you again. Jesus knows what it is to suffer in love for one who sometimes relates to you without appropriate regard or kindness. So it's not without regard that he calls us to goodness…

Jesus is the "stumbling stone and rock of offense." He's the boundary that defines in the kingdom, and out of the Kingdom, because his presence and life and way are the kingdom. Where he goes and what he does and how he lives — that's the only measure that matters. Jesus is the one who defines our belonging.

This father lays his broken heart down at the feet of Jesus and proclaims: here I am, in all my hurt and twisted despair. Here I am, with all my disappointments and doubts and questions. Here I am. Help me. Help me even though I don't have within me the strength to even fully believe that you can.

What Mark shows Jesus doing is a fulfillment of God's promise to overthrow the powers that stand against his people. We're told what will happen: The eyes of the blind will be opened, the ears of the deaf unstopped, the lame shall leap like a deer, the tongue of the mute sing for joy. Waters will break forth in the wilderness and streams in the desert. So what Jesus does for this man is both a fulfillment of Isaiah's prophecy and also a picture for us of what salvation looks like. Desolation—desolation and judgment—turned to celebration and joy.

According to Jesus, our holiness problem is deep inside ourselves, not something that's primarily external. And our wisdom is not sufficient to devise a way of escape for ourselves. And, ultimately, our washings only go skin deep. The purifications we invent for ourselves do nothing to cleanse the impurity of our hearts. We need Jesus to wash us.

If Jesus is the true bread from heaven—if he’s actually the source of divine life and truth—then the only thing to do is to fall at his feet in worship. The only correct response is to surrender everything to him, to gather up every crumb of wisdom he offers, and to devote ourselves fully to consuming him and being consumed by him.

The heart of God is to rescue and to restore what we have broken. It is the will of the Father that none of those given would be lost, that people would look on the Son and believe, and that Jesus will raise his own up on the last day.

We trust that our Father, who calls us into the secure hands of the Son, fills us with the power of His Spirit. We delight in his power, rest content in our weakness, and trust ourselves to him.

Jesus instructs the crowds to aim their hearts, and their desires, higher. Higher than comfort, higher than ease, higher than the satisfactions we can expect from a life of “good days” instead of bad ones. We are meant to hunger for “food that endures to eternal life”, food which Jesus claims he can give to us.

What Jesus does by walking on the water is a thing that only God could do — only the one who formed the world from its formless beginning, only the one with power to order the chaotic waters. And Jesus shows us that this majestic power and awesome might is held by one with compassion, who makes himself known, who responds when we call to him.

Mark has given us a picture here of two kings. One hears the truth, and locks it up; he feeds himself, but does not care for his people. The other pours himself out for those under his care, feeding the hungry around him while he suffers lack. And this is how the God of creation reveals himself to us — through Jesus, we see the care, love, and kindness of God for us lost sheep.

When Jesus calls us to go, it is never to a place he has not already gone. When he calls us to deny our desires and submit to God, it is never in a way that he himself did not obey. When he calls us to take up our crosses and follow him, we have the comfort and assurance that he knows exactly what he’s asking and that we can trust him.