The King Over the Chaos Text: John 6:15-21
Introduction: The Wrong Kind of Kingdom
Every generation of Christians faces the same fundamental temptation, and it is the temptation to trade a transcendent King for a tame one. We see it in full flower right here, in the aftermath of a staggering miracle. Jesus has just fed five thousand men, plus women and children, with a boy's lunch. The crowd is ecstatic. Their bellies are full, their minds are racing, and they have come to a perfectly logical, and yet perfectly carnal, conclusion. This man, they reason, is the one. He can feed an army out of thin air. He can rally the nation. He is the political messiah we have been waiting for to throw off the Roman yoke. Let's make him king.
This is not a trivial misunderstanding. This is the very heart of the world's rebellion against God. The world does not mind Jesus, provided He is a Jesus who serves their agenda. They will gladly crown a Jesus who is a political revolutionary, a social justice warrior, a national mascot, or a therapeutic life coach. They want to take Him by force and make Him a king who will fix their immediate, earthly problems on their terms. They want a bread king, not the Bread of Life.
And when Jesus refuses this crown, when He refuses to be the mascot for their revolution, the same crowds that wanted to crown Him will, in a short time, be screaming for His crucifixion. The path from "Hosanna" to "Crucify Him" is paved with disappointed carnal expectations. They wanted a king who would conquer their Roman enemies; they got a King who intended to conquer their sin. They wanted a king who would fill their stomachs; they got a King who demanded to fill their souls.
This passage is a deliberate and powerful corrective. Jesus rejects the crown of popular acclaim in order to demonstrate what His true kingship looks like. His authority is not derived from a popular vote. His throne is not built on political maneuvering. His kingdom is not advanced by force of arms. He is the King who commands the wind and the waves. He is the Lord over the very fabric of creation. He is the sovereign who walks on the chaos that terrifies us. And He comes to His people not when it is convenient, but when it is dark, when the storm is raging, and when they are at the end of their strength.
The Text
So Jesus, knowing that they were going to come and take Him by force to make Him king, withdrew again to the mountain by Himself alone.
Now when evening came, His disciples went down to the sea, and after getting into a boat, they began to cross the sea to Capernaum. It had already become dark, and Jesus had not yet come to them. And the sea was stirred up because a strong wind was blowing. Then, when they had rowed about twenty-five or thirty stadia, they saw Jesus walking on the sea and drawing near to the boat; and they were frightened. But He said to them, "It is I; do not be afraid." So they were willing to receive Him into the boat, and immediately the boat was at the land to which they were going.
(John 6:15-21 LSB)
The Rejected Crown (v. 15)
The scene opens with a profound act of refusal.
"So Jesus, knowing that they were going to come and take Him by force to make Him king, withdrew again to the mountain by Himself alone." (John 6:15)
Notice first the sovereign knowledge of Jesus. "Knowing." He is never surprised by the intentions of men. He sees the political calculus in their hearts. He understands their desire to harness His power for their earthly ambitions. He is not a pawn in their political drama; He is the author of all history, and He will not be forced onto a throne of man's making.
The crowd wants to "take Him by force." This is the spirit of the flesh. It is the spirit of Babel, the desire to build a kingdom to heaven on our own terms. It is the spirit of every political utopian scheme that seeks to use the name of Christ to baptize a humanistic project. But the kingdom of God is not like this. It does not come by coercion or popular revolt. It comes by the preaching of the gospel and the regenerating work of the Holy Spirit.
What is Christ's response to this temptation of a worldly crown? He withdraws. He goes up to the mountain alone. He rejects the roar of the crowd for the solitude of communion with His Father. True power, the power that will actually save the world, is not found in popular movements but in perfect obedience to the Father. He refuses the crown from below because He is waiting for the crown from above. He knows that the path to His true throne is not through a political rally but through a cross.
The Church in the Storm (v. 16-18)
While Jesus is on the mountain, His disciples are on the sea, and their situation deteriorates rapidly.
"Now when evening came, His disciples went down to the sea, and after getting into a boat, they began to cross the sea to Capernaum. It had already become dark, and Jesus had not yet come to them. And the sea was stirred up because a strong wind was blowing." (John 6:16-18 LSB)
This is a living parable of the Church in the world. The disciples are in a state of obedience, heading to the destination He intended. But notice the compounding pressures. First, it is "evening." Then, "it had already become dark." The light is fading, and then it is gone. Second, Jesus is absent. "Jesus had not yet come to them." They are alone, or so it seems. Third, the circumstances turn hostile. A "strong wind" whips up the sea. The world, which the sea often represents in Scripture, is not a neutral place. It is a place of turmoil and opposition.
This is the experience of the faithful throughout the ages. We are in the boat, heading where we believe Christ has sent us. But the darkness closes in. The comforting, felt presence of Jesus seems to withdraw. And the culture, the world around us, begins to rage. We are rowing against the wind, and our own efforts seem futile and exhausting.
The Divine Intrusion (v. 19-20)
The disciples are miles from shore, in the dead of night, fighting a losing battle against the storm. It is at this point of maximum desperation that Christ appears.
"Then, when they had rowed about twenty-five or thirty stadia, they saw Jesus walking on the sea and drawing near to the boat; and they were frightened. But He said to them, 'It is I; do not be afraid.'" (John 6:19-20 LSB)
They have rowed three or four miles. This has been going on for hours. Then they see something that is, to them, more terrifying than the storm itself: a figure walking on the water. This is a direct and unmistakable claim to deity. The Old Testament is clear about who controls the sea. God is the one "who alone stretches out the heavens and treads on the waves of the sea" (Job 9:8). Jesus is not performing a magic trick. He is treading upon the very symbol of chaos and death as though it were a stone pavement. He is demonstrating His absolute sovereignty over the created order.
Their natural response is fear. An encounter with the raw, untamed power of God is a terrifying thing for sinful men. They thought their problem was the wind. Now they are confronted with the God who made the wind. This is a much bigger deal. But Jesus speaks into their terror with the most profound words in the passage: "It is I; do not be afraid."
The Greek here is ego eimi. This is not just "Hey, it's me." This is the divine name. This is the name God revealed to Moses at the burning bush: "I AM." Jesus is identifying Himself as the self-existent, covenant-keeping God of Israel. The command "do not be afraid" is therefore not a gentle suggestion. It is a logical deduction based on His identity. Because the great I AM is present, fear is irrational. The one who commands the waves is here. The storm is not the ultimate reality; He is.
The Miraculous Arrival (v. 21)
The climax of the event is not just the calming of their fears, but the supernatural completion of their journey.
"So they were willing to receive Him into the boat, and immediately the boat was at the land to which they were going." (John 6:21 LSB)
Once they recognize Him and understand who He is, their fear turns to faith. They are "willing to receive Him into the boat." This is the turning point. And the moment they welcome the sovereign Christ into their vessel, into their struggle, the struggle ends. Not just ends, but is supernaturally consummated. "Immediately the boat was at the land."
The miles of water they still had to cross simply vanished. He did not just get in the boat to help them row. He got in the boat and brought them to the destination in an instant. This is a staggering picture of the grace of God. We toil and strain in our own strength, making slow progress against the wind. But when we welcome Christ into our situation, on His terms, as the great I AM, He does not merely assist our efforts. He accomplishes the goal in a way that utterly transcends our efforts. His power takes us from the midst of the struggle to the shores of deliverance. He is not just our helper; He is our salvation.
Conclusion: The King We Need
The contrast is now complete. The crowds wanted to force Jesus to be a political king who would serve their earthly agenda. Jesus rejected that crown and revealed Himself to His disciples as the cosmic King who commands creation itself.
We are all in that boat. We live in a world that is dark and hostile to the faith. The wind of cultural opposition is always blowing. And often, it feels as though Jesus is absent, and we are left to row alone. In those moments, we are tempted to despair, or to try to create a more convenient Jesus, a political messiah who will fix our problems now.
But the true Jesus, the I AM, comes to us in the middle of the storm. He comes walking on the very chaos that we fear. And His arrival is at first terrifying, because it confronts us with His holiness and our weakness. But He speaks His name over us: "It is I; do not be afraid."
The central question for us is the same one the disciples faced. Will we be willing to receive Him into our boat? Will we welcome the true Christ, the Lord of the storm, into our lives, our families, our churches? Or will we cling to our own efforts, our own political solutions, our own frantic rowing?
When we welcome Him, He brings us to the shore. Our salvation does not ultimately depend on the strength of our rowing, but on the identity of the one who steps into the boat. He is the I AM, and He is the King who saves His people from the storm.