Sea. Mountain. House.

F. Scott Fitzgerald once said, “Pull your chair up to the edge of the precipice and I will tell you a story.” I don’t know what Mr. Fitzgerald thought of Jesus, but that’s a fitting invitation to listen to scripture. You’re never quite sure what’s going to happen to you when you turn a page in the Bible, but you can be certain it is a risky business. For example, there are three stories in Mark 3:7 – 34. They should come with legal releases and warning labels because they take us to some very challenging places.

In vs. 7, Jesus is down by the sea. But he isn’t alone. A crowd has followed him. They have come from Judea, Jerusalem, Idumea and the regions across the Jordan and around Tyre and Sidon. In other words, from the north, south, east and west. They have come because he has power over the sicknesses that rob them of health and over the demons that rob them of peace.

In the Bible, the sea is the place where God’s power is displayed. Noah sailed upon it. Moses parted it. Jonah survived it. Jesus walked on it. And stilled it. I doubt the people who came to the sea to see Jesus were thinking about those stories, but when I stand on a beach and feel dwarfed by the expanse, I remember them. And I believe them, too, improbable as they are. What’s even more dubious than the Bible’s maritime miracles, however, is that Jews and Arabs once found common ground, of all places, by the Sea of Galilee near a man named Jesus. I do not believe there will ever be peace in the most violent region of our world until people once again come together because they are all on their way to see Jesus. Many missionaries will have to preach and some will die before the message of Jesus is embraced there, but I think it is the only story with sufficient power to calm that tempest.

In vs. 13, Jesus is up on a mountain. Remember the Ten Commandments? The Transfiguration? If the sea is a metaphor for God’s power, the mountain represents time in God’s presence. Mark says that while he was on the mountain, Jesus appointed twelve “that they might be with him.” He was going to send them out with a message, one authenticated by the power to drive out demons. But before they could demonstrate the power of God, they had to spend time in the presence of God. Before they could walk on water, they had to live on the mountain.

Yesterday morning, I was in a fast food restaurant to grab a quick cup of coffee. While I waited, I saw a sign posted on the wall near the counter that indicated the times, to the second, that each customer encounter should take. According to the chart, my coffee was 37 seconds over due. We expect everything immediately these days. Cell phone companies, internet providers, shipping services and pizza joints all compete to be the fastest at what they do. And we love them for it.

The symbolism of the mountain, though, teaches us that the power of God is not available to us at the push of a button. Beware of sermons, seminars, books or blogs that promise you the power to master discipleship in twelve easy steps or 40 short days. We assume, I think, that God wanted to meet people on the mountains because they were high. Maybe. Or maybe he wanted to meet them on the mountains because mountains are old. They represent patience and persistence. Which is what a relationship with God requires.

In vs. 20, Jesus is in a house. His disciples are there, along with a lot of other people, including some teachers of the law. Even his family shows up, late, but they don’t come in. They think he’s lost his mind, so they send someone in to get him. I’ve wondered before why they didn’t just go into the house themselves. Staying outside makes a statement.

The teachers of the law are in the house and they think Jesus is possessed by the devil. In response, Jesus quotes Abraham Lincoln; “If a house is divided against itself, it cannot stand.”

So the sea stands for power and the mountain for time in the presence of God. What about the house? Verse 35 seems helpful just here. “Whoever does God’s will is my brother and sister and mother;” words which I think were hard for Jesus to voice because his own family, at that point in their faith, were not yet with him. His true family consisted of those who had mortgaged their lives to God.

A house means that some commitments have been settled. I’m going to work this job, my kids are going to this school, we’re going to attend that church, this is our address. Owning a home is evidence that a decision has been ratified, that roots are being put down.

It might be a useful exercise this week to spend some time thinking about those three locations — the sea, the mountain, the house — and their correlates in your life. Where do you need God’s power the most? How do you spend time with God? Have you mortgaged your future to God — or to someone or something else?