“Then Jesus left Capernaum and went dow to the region of Judea and into the area east of the Jordan River.” (Mark 10:1 NLT)
I’ve read through Mark 10 four times this week and each time I’ve tripped over this very first verse. Having been to Israel myself, I’m familiar with the geography. When I read the gospels, I’m always trying to figure out where Jesus had been and where He was going. One thing is clear: His ministry was not limited to Israel’s 30AD era borders. What’s more, it doesn’t seem like Jesus had an itinerary. Last summer, when we traveled through Israel, we mostly moved around by bus; making a sensible circle of sorts. Jesus zigzagged through the territory. His movement (made even more challenging to track across four gospels) seemed sporadic, even impulsive.
I looked it up; a map with Jesus’ earthly ministry neatly pinned for the pragmatic reader. It was just as scattered as what I had hastily assembled in my head. I began to wonder, how many miles did Jesus travel to transform people? Some scholars far smarter than I have already done the math: the general consensus is that Jesus covered approximately 3125 miles in His three year preaching tour.
Before we downplay that, we must recall that every mile of His journey was accomplished on foot. We only read of Jesus on a donkey at the triumphal entry. Every other encounter He arrived on foot. To put three thousand miles into perspective, it’s about the round trip distance between my home in South Texas and our generational family cabin in Northern Minnesota; near the border of Canada. Having traveled both terrains by vehicle: Israel and the Midwest, I’d far prefer to walk to Minnesota and back then to navigate the landscape that our Savior traversed. There are no mountains between here and the Big Woods, but Israel is beset with high peaks, valleys, plains and vast desert. It’s often steep and dry and uneven and dusty.
Jesus didn’t appear to have a geographical agenda, but it certainly seems He had a spiritual one. He moved with purpose from place to place; sometimes traveling all night, through storms, occasionally even circling back for just a single interaction with a gospel-responsive individual.
It’s true of His earthly ministry two thousand years ago and still true today: Jesus goes to great lengths to interact with hurting-hopeful people. Think about your own story: where were you on the road of life when you met Jesus? Was it not just the right time? Did He not have just the right words?
Jesus traveled 3125 miles in His earthly ministry but how many lightyears did He cross to come to earth and take on flesh – all so He could live and die blameless as our sacrifice? Jesus traversed heaven and earth so He could meet with us and alter our eternity.
“When we were utterly helpless, Christ came at just the right time and died for us sinners.” (Romans 5:6 NLT)
This entire discussion has solidified my regret in giving up my evening walk to the Texas late summer heat. Evening walks are a daily opportunity for our flesh remember Him: an escape from the comforts of climate control and technology, a connection with the much larger world, and an opportunity to communicate with the Divine in a tradition as old as time itself.
“When the cool evening breezes were blowing, the man and his wife heard the Lord God walking about in the garden. So they hid from the Lord God among the trees.” (Genesis 3:8 NLT)
Lord, thank You for going to such great lengths to meet with us at just the right time and place. We are moved by Your physical commitment to furthering the gospel. May we find ways to keep connecting with You, whether it’s prayer or devotions or worship or an evening walk. We recognize Your effort in reaching out toward us and want to respond with equal enthusiasm. Amen.