John 6:56-69
I have presented John Chapter 6 for the last five weeks, highlighted in our Liturgical Calendar. John’s sixth chapter presents the case for authorizing the Eucharist, or Communion. I spoke last Sunday about “strong and weak” repetition and asserted that John’s repetition is strong. I have presented that over centuries, some Christians have used these passages to amplify their view of John’s writing as the foundation of anti-Semitism in Christian culture and highlighted that Jesus, his disciples, and followers were Jews and followed Jewish traditions. As a Rabbi and Pharisee, Jesus had the authority to question those traditions. This Sunday, we complete this five- week cycle of the Liturgical Calendar. We will not return to John until Sunday, November 24th, when we proclaim the “Reign of Christ” and begin to celebrate the Christmas Season. Beginning next week and eleven weeks to come, we will journey with Jesus through the lens of Mark’s Gospel.
In John’s Chapter 6, Jesus repeatedly confronts his crowds of followers and those whom he identifies as disciples. Some turn away from him for his radical interpretations of Hebrew Scripture. Yet, Jesus consistently invokes the words of the prophets. What was he thinking? Did he want to challenge their beliefs and push many away? He had such a large following before he spoke. He had fed 5,000 people, and with signs and miracles, the curious multitude had swelled in their numbers.
Those gathered expect a new miracle or magic show. He could have performed such miracles at will. He could have repeated comforting excerpts from his Beatitudes. He could have provided new parables about sheep and shepherds or landlords and tenants. If he made everyone happy with easy lessons, he could have the most followers of any Pharisee. He could have led them to insurrection against temple authorities or Rome with a mass of motivated acolytes. They could have disrupted the coming Passover. Many expected this from their Messiah, who, like the Zealots, promoted a violent revolution.
Instead, Jesus launched into a long and repetitive discourse regarding his identity. He speaks about eating his flesh and drinking his blood, which reversed the laws of Leviticus. To the devout Jewish ears in the crowd, he has become blasphemous. By suggesting the consumption of his body and blood, many who shared the meal with the 5000 now begin to grumble and will turn away from him and will soon turn on him, as they turned on Moses.
His followers grumble: “This teaching is difficult; who can accept it?” As a result, many turned away and would soon encourage and cheer his suffering and execution.
Jesus let the assembled crowds leave. He let them wander off and did not attempt to hold them. He didn’t offer a new miracle. He didn’t strike up the praise band, start the light show, and let a fog machine enhance the experience. Instead, he made following him difficult. He left them with unanswered questions, preferring to let them depart and wrestle with their questions. Each person chooses to follow him even when it is most difficult.
We may wonder where the mercy of Christ, the Holy Spirit, and God are in such times. We pray and act to help if we are able.
Such questions are unanswerable. I pray and hear Paul’s words evoking patience when faced with a mystery. The answers appear to us through a dark glass. We can believe but cannot understand God’s purpose in human suffering. The real miracle in John wasn’t the feeding of the 5,000 but that a dozen were still loyal in the end. It took the women to affirm His Resurrection and His living appearance to remove the disciples’ fear and doubt.
Jesus watched the crowds leave him. Once they had gone, Jesus asked the twelve apostles if they wanted to leave him. That is when Peter spoke: “Lord, to whom can I go? You have the words of eternal life.”
Somehow, Jesus speaks to our hearts and keeps bringing us back to Him for mercy and the promise of eternal life. The Kingdom of Heaven is here on earth. He asks us to show faith through love.
Today, many Mainline Protestants may find “flesh-eating” and “blood- drinking” as solely symbolic. We may not hear His words, “Abide in me.” Jesus invites the disciples to be part of his living, eternal, body. The world is a place where fear often reigns. Grief spawns fear. Jesus asks that we abide in him and that he may abide in us.
I am reminded of the Samaritan woman in John 4. In verses 13-14, Jesus says, “Everyone who drinks this water will be thirsty again, but those who drink of the water that I will give them will never be thirsty.” Jesus uses symbols of bread, wine, flesh, blood, and water to teach about the gift of life, which is eternal. Jesus promises that if we follow his commandment to love and be generous, fear will not win. Love will win.
In this passage from John, the Disciples complain that the teaching is too complex (v. 60). Jesus asks them if he offends them (v. 61). He reminds them that the Spirit gives life and his words “are spirit and life” (v. 63). Nearly all of these followers want bread in their bellies, not the Spirit in their hearts. They want security, shelter, and food. The physical hunger is real. Yet Jesus offers his message in the Beatitudes. Our eternal home is promised through God, Christ, and the Holy Spirit, which offer life, mercy, and justice.
Are we so different? Why is it so challenging to accept life through the Spirit? We like to think we are in control of our lives and destiny. When things seem to spin out of control in my world, I find solace while folding laundry or preparing food. That sometimes seems the only thing I can truly control. When all is chaos, I can find comfort in humble actions.
Our culture tells us that we have personal responsibility and can control our lives and destinies. If we work hard, we will be rewarded with material gain. We feel upbeat and good when our work is finished; our reward is shelter and food on our tables. We wake up with a complete “to-do” list and go to bed with it incomplete. Each morning, we begin anew.
A professor at the Iliff School of Theology once told me, “People prefer religion to God.” Like the disciples, we grumble at Jesus’ offerings of mercy through the Spirit. We often make religion about rules and expectations because we can control the practices.
In verse 67, Jesus asks his disciples if they, too, want to walk away. Simon Peter answers, “Lord, to whom can we go? You have the words of eternal life. We have come to believe and know that you are the Holy One of God” (vs. 68-69). Peter realizes that he is ready to give up control and accept Jesus’ path of love despite the harshness of the journey. Faith challenges them as it does us.
We understand that we are no better than any other child of God because of our denomination, our skin color, our gender, our job. We turn over to God that which we fear, trusting that we are loved. When we accept the love of God’s grace, though, love flows from us when we love others, even when they irritate us. When we behave like Christ asked us to act, we show God that we live in him and he in us. Then, we may assert that we prefer God over religion.