July 8, 2007
Bread & Expectations
John 6:22-35
I was watching TV not long ago — just sitting back on the couch
and relaxing. I had eaten a great dinner Sue had prepared. I probably ate too
much. But as I was watching a television program, I saw a guy eating a
sandwich, and suddenly I had an uncontrollable urge for a sandwich. Just a
little later a group of people were eating popcorn. I started to feel like I
couldn’t go on if I didn’t have some popcorn. Not long afterward someone on TV
was enjoying a bowl of ice cream way too much, and. . . well, you get the
idea. Enough is never enough.
The story today is about well-fed people who kept wanting and
expecting more. It takes place the day after Jesus has miraculously fed these
same people. And John says that even though there were thousands of people,
they all had enough to eat with plenty left over. The Gospel of Matthew tells
the same story and states: “They all ate and were satisfied, and the disciples
picked up twelve basketfuls of broken pieces that were left over” (Matthew
14:20). They have had their fill and were satisfied, but the very next day the
crowds are wanting more from Jesus. Yesterday’s bread was not enough. In fact,
yesterday’s miracle bread brought new expectations for today. They have come
looking for Jesus, but he says to them, “I tell you the truth, you are looking
for me, not because you saw miraculous signs but because you ate the loaves and
had your fill” (John 6:26). It is amazing how Jesus always confronted people
with the truth. The people came rushing up to him as though they were excited
about him, but he told them the truth that all they wanted was more free bread.
Jesus redirected their thinking to the things of real
importance. He said, “Do not work for food that spoils, but for food that
endures to eternal life, which the Son of Man will give you. On him God the
Father has placed his seal of approval” (John 6:27). But when Jesus asked them
to work for food that endures to eternal life, he was speaking to people who
were used to thinking of concrete, religious works they could do to inherit
eternal life: “Give us things to do and rules to obey.” But Jesus tells them
that their work is to believe: “The work of God is this: to believe in the one
he has sent” (John 6:29). This is strange to them, but they see an opportunity
here. In a roundabout way of asking for more bread, they say, “What miraculous
sign then will you give that we may see it and believe you? What will you do?
Our forefathers ate the manna in the desert; as it is written: ‘He gave them
bread from heaven to eat’” (John 6:30-31). Expectations.
Jesus has asked them to believe in him as the One sent by God.
But they demand a sign if they are going to believe, and they cannot think of a
better one than the miracle of Moses continually providing manna for the people
in the wilderness. In other words, “How about it Jesus. If you want us to
believe in you, how about doing what Moses did — constantly give us bread in
this desert just like Moses did for our ancestors in the Sinai desert. Be
our Deliverer and Provider as Moses was theirs. Show us that you are
a part of the prophetic line. We want more miracles which result in more
bread. Do that and we will believe.
Jesus said to them, “I tell you the truth, it is not Moses who
has given you the bread from heaven, but it is my Father who gives you the true
bread from heaven. For the bread of God is he who comes down from heaven and
gives life to the world” (John 6:32-33). But the bread Jesus was talking about
was not what they had in mind. They were stuck thinking of literal bread that
would give them physical life. “Sir,” they said, “from now on give us this
bread.” But they missed an important word in Jesus’ message to them. Jesus did
not say, “The bread of God is that which comes down from heaven,” he
said, “The bread of God is HE who comes down from heaven and gives life
to the world.” He was referring to himself. They wanted bread and he was
offering them a body. God the Father was wanting to give them something that
would sustain them eternally, and this sustenance was in the form of his Son.
Finally, Jesus has to tell them outright: “I am the bread of
life. He who comes to me will never go hungry, and he who believes in me will
never be thirsty” (John 6:35). This amazing claim that he is indeed the bread
of life threw the people into tumult, for the Scripture says, “At this the Jews
began to grumble about him because he said, ‘I am the bread that came down from
heaven.’ They said, ‘Is this not Jesus, the son of Joseph, whose father and
mother we know? How can he now say, “I came down from heaven”?’” (John
6:41-42). This all takes place in the region where Jesus grew up and was known
from childhood. They know Jesus’ family. He has brothers and sisters. And
they have heard the rumors about his suspicious birth. Some said that his
mother had been unfaithful to Joseph. Others said a Roman soldier was to
blame. How could a prophet come from those kinds of circumstances, let alone
the bread of life? How could he say that he came down from heaven? They began
to realize that Jesus was not going to meet their expectations, and they started
to be offended at him.
But Jesus, rather than making it easier for them to understand
and believe, actually made it more difficult. And here the story takes a turn.
Jesus says, “I tell you the truth, he who believes has everlasting life. I am
the bread of life. Your forefathers ate the manna in the desert, yet they
died. But here is the bread that comes down from heaven, which a man may eat
and not die. I am the living bread that came down from heaven. If anyone eats
of this bread, he will live forever. This bread is my flesh, which I will give
for the life of the world” (John 6:47-51). To them, it sounds like he is
suggesting cannibalism. They say, “How can this man give us his flesh to eat?”
(John 6:52). As so often happens throughout this gospel, the people take his
words literally and entirely miss the point. They think it is as if he is
holding out his arm and saying, “Here. Take a bite!”
But here again, Jesus makes no effort to correct their
misunderstanding or make it easier for them to believe. He seems unconcerned
that they are offended. His next words are even more offensive. He says, “I
tell you the truth, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his
blood, you have no life in you. Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood has
eternal life, and I will raise him up at the last day. For my flesh is real
food and my blood is real drink. Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood
remains in me, and I in him. Just as the living Father sent me and I live
because of the Father, so the one who feeds on me will live because of me. This
is the bread that came down from heaven. Your forefathers ate manna and died,
but he who feeds on this bread will live forever” (John 6:53-58). For us who
celebrate communion where we eat the body of Jesus and drink his blood, this is
not shocking. We are used to the idea. We understand the symbolism. But this
was absolutely scandalous to them, and we are not surprised to read in one of
the verses that follow: “On hearing it, many of his disciples said, ‘This is a
hard teaching. Who can accept it?’” (John 6:60).
You would think that this would cause Jesus to reconsider the
harshness of his words and that he would try to help the people understand what
he was trying to say. But instead, John says, “Aware that his disciples were
grumbling about this, Jesus said to them, ‘Does this offend you? What if you
see the Son of Man ascend to where he was before!’” (John 6:61-62). Now he is
claiming the ability to go back to heaven where he came from, and the people are
in a complete state of provocation. John, as one of the disciples, was present
when this took place, and he seems to write with concern as he reports: “From
this time many of his disciples turned back and no longer followed him” (John
6:66). Even Jesus’ closest disciples are in danger of leaving. He turns to the
twelve disciples and says, “You do not want to leave too, do you?” (John 6:67).
It is Simon Peter who answers and gives this beautiful statement of faith in the
midst of confusion: “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal
life. We believe and know that you are the Holy One of God” (John 6:68-69).
What do we make of this remarkable, and somewhat shocking,
exchange between Jesus and those who had been following him? What are we to
make of the reaction of the people to what Jesus had to say? Here’s what I
think was going on. First, I think the people wanted a Messiah they could
control. They wanted a Messiah who would do what they wanted him to do. They
would follow him as long as he met their expectations. They wanted the
blessings and the benefits that God provides, but they did not want a God who
would mess with their thinking and make demands of them. I think the people
then, like people now, saw God as only having value insofar as he meets their
needs. A lot of people think that God’s job is to make them happy, and when God
doesn’t do the things that make them happy, he loses his usefulness to them.
God only has value insofar as they can control him. We want to create a god in
our own image, not have to be transformed into the image of God. God can send
his Messiah, but we will only accept the Messiah insofar as he meets our
expectations of what a Messiah should be and do. We want a Jesus who surrenders
to our will, rather than one who demands we surrender to his will. We will
believe, but only if he comes through with signs, miracles and wonders. We will
follow as long as he meets our needs. We want a god who blesses our country and
makes us feel safe, secure and triumphant.
Secondly, we want a god we can understand. We want a manageable,
predictable god with easy answers and quick solutions. We want a god we can
understand who fits into a nice neat little box and doesn’t get out. Don’t make
me think or try to understand. A God who is beyond my understanding makes me
uncomfortable. Give me a god whom I can take literally and gives me black and
white categories. Why should I have to think about gray areas? I want to think
about what God is doing for me — helping, healing and saving me.
I am not so interested in what God is doing with the world. I want a
personalized, privatized religion that does not make me think about the world —
just my Bible, Jesus and me.
Why didn’t Jesus explain what he was saying in simple terms? Why
didn’t he help them to understand? Why so obscure? Because he wanted the
people to question and to think! This is why Jesus taught with confusing
stories and parables. These problematic sayings of Jesus remained in their
heads for long periods of time and caused them to question and think about what
he was saying and grapple with his meaning. Thinking is good. Just memorizing
a list of rules, doctrines or facts does little for us spiritually.
Third, we want a god who does not make demands on us that we will
find difficult to follow. I don’t like it when he talks about selling all I
have and giving to the poor. I don’t like him talking about turning the other
cheek and loving my enemies. What is interesting about this exchange between
Jesus and these people is that they thought they were questioning Jesus and
failed to see that they were the ones being questioned. They were trying to
make demands of Jesus and failed to understand the demands Jesus was placing on
them.
I’ve been reading Jürgen Moltmann’s book The Crucified God.
In it, he talks about the “exceptional claim of Jesus” and says, “If Jesus had
appeared as a rabbi or a prophet in the succession of Moses, he would have
raised no questions. Only the fact that he is, and acts as though he were,
someone different from the figures which his age remembered and hoped for raises
a question about him. Thus it is he, he himself, who first raises the specific
question of Christ.” Jesus asks, “Who do you say that I am?” (Matthew 16:15).
Who we understand Jesus to be is all important to how we relate to him. Some
demand answers, usually simple answers. Some want him to be understandable and
manageable. Nearly all want him to meet their expectations of who God should be
and what he should do. But it is not he who is being questioned, it is us.
Jesus asks us, “Who do you say that I am?” And how we respond to that tells us
as much about ourselves as it does him. We cannot simply respond with some glib
answer. Do we come wanting to discover the real Jesus, or one that has been
sculpted by the culture, even though it is the image carved out by the
prevailing religious culture of our day? Or do we want the actual Jesus who is
revealed in the gospels — the living, breathing, reigning, life-giving bread of
the world — the frightening Jesus who is beyond our understanding, beyond our
control and demands a radical obedience which is beyond what we think we are
capable of giving? In spite of our confusion, disappointment and offense, will
we say, “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life.”
What are you hungry for? A god who will meet your needs and help
you with all your problems? A god who will give you everything you want? A god
who will soothe and comfort you? Or an uncomfortable God who is bigger than you
will ever be able to understand and who challenges you to have faith and live at
new levels? Are you hungry for this life to be easier or to discover the life
he offers? Do you just want bread, or the Bread of Life? Do you gravitate
toward easy believism and non-demanding discipleship, or are you willing to go
all the way with Jesus in spite of how confused or even offended by him you
are?
There are those who follow Jesus whatever the cost in order to be
a witness to the lost. Mark Early tells this remarkable story of how truly
following Jesus transforms the lives of those who follow him and the lives with
whom they come into contact. “For thirteen weeks, former child soldier Ishmael
Beah has seen his memoir, A Long Way Gone, hover in the top ranks of the
New York Times bestsellers list. For a young man whose village and family were
burned, who evaded capture amidst the war-torn landscape of Sierra Leone, and
finally was given an AK-47 and coerced to join the government army, a
best-selling book comes as quite a twist in the road. As a child soldier,
Ishmael heard his commanding officer frequently tell him and his comrades,
‘Visualize the enemy, the rebels who killed your parents, your family, and those
who are responsible for everything that has happened to you.’ In their drills
when they did not properly bayonet a banana tree, the officer reprimanded them
by saying: ‘Is that how you stab someone who had killed your family?’ As Beah’s
story unfolds, one cannot help but wonder about the fate of such children,
suckled on revenge from such a tender age. What is strong enough to overcome
that kind of past? The answer does not come as a surprise. It is the power of
forgiveness and unconditional love. When UNICEF forces showed up one day and
negotiated with Beah’s commander for the release of the children soldiers in his
command, Ishmael and others found themselves suddenly transported to a
rehabilitation camp. One would think that these children would be grateful for
release and embrace these workers for their role in their redemption. But,
you’re wrong. It would take months for these children to lose their appetite
for brown-brown (cocaine mixed with gun-powder), for violence, and for revenge.
Day after day these young kids would lash out at the workers and the other
children. Day after day, the workers would respond with forgiveness and love.
Beah recounts the story of one of the workers in the rehabilitation compound
named Poppay, whom the children beat, stabbed and left unconscious. Several
days later, Poppay returned from the hospital, limping, but with a smile on his
face. ‘It is not your fault that you did such a thing to me,’ he said. As Beah
recalls, ‘Most of the staff members were like that; they returned smiling after
we hurt them. It was as if they had made a pact not to give up on us.’
Wittingly or unwittingly, they were displaying the turn-the-other-cheek kind of
love that Christ taught. And through their display of grace, they sent a
powerful message: Revenge stops here.”
Radical grace demands radical obedience. Mere bread will bring
the expectation of more bread. But the Bread of Life opens the door to
eternity.
Rodney J. Buchanan
July 8, 2007
Mulberry St. UMC
Mount Vernon, OH
www.MulberryUMC.org
Rod.Buchanan@MulberryUMC.org
Mulberry
Street United Methodist Church