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From The First Baptist Church in America pulpit – Providence, Rhode Island

“Chasing After Jesus” (John 6:25-35) - October 4, 2009
Dr. Dan Ivins, preaching

Outside the birth and passion narratives, Chapter 6 of John is the longest one in the four gospels. It is an uneven, back and forth, highly theological story that progresses by three questions, and Jesus’ response to them, as he identifies himself as the true bread. This is a brand new revelation with eucharistic overtones that leads to deadly conflict with the religious authorities and even divides the disciples, who like the crowd, are hungry for a blessing but would much rather hit the jackpot.

Jesus had just fed a big crowd a Big Mac and they followed him around the Galilee. 5000 of them, knew they were onto something and tried to draft Jesus as their King, because he gave away lots of freebies. But when he offers them instead, the bread of life the crowds disappear and his supporters fall away. At first we’re impressed by their eager spirituality. But as usual, it comes down to one thing: the crowd came away with a free lunch. “What a great president he’d make!” So amped-up they could devour him – much in the same way we still idolize celebrity rock stars.

They saw in him a second Moses, who made their ancestor's lives better. Moses delivered the Israelites out of Egyptian oppression. Now, they thought it was Jesus' turn to free them from Roman subjugation. They wanted to be sure they saw what they thought they’d seen. But what they failed to see was that miracles don't lead multitudes to faith. They just make us want to see him do it again! But a little slower this time, because when it comes to the miraculous, one is never enough. That's all the multitude wanted from Jesus.

Well, not so fast. Jesus won't buy into their adoration. It’s not just a story about who he is, but also about what we want and what we need. He spotted their true motive for supporting him, "Ya’ll aren’t here because of God, but because I pitched a picnic on the mountain." They wanted something for nothing. But didn't they say after he fed them, "This is indeed the prophet who is to come into our world?" So why is Jesus so hard on them? Maybe it’s because he can spot a phony a mile away. Considering the trick he’d just performed, it isn't hard to do. Jesus could see through the insatiable motive, always in search of the easy jackpot miracle. So often we mistake opportunity for opportunism. The “swallow and follow” tendency is all too common among us -- to seek the advantage of a free ride and always be searching for something more in our lives. We seem to never be satisfied with what God is pleased to give us.

God knows hungry people need to be fed. And we’re grateful for groups like “Bread for the World” that continue to live that out. But Jesus was interested in more than bread; the true bread, that makes life eventful, not just passing time. That’s not to say feeding the hungry isn’t eventful; it’s just that he wanted more for us than that. I recall an elderly man saying to me once, ‘You know what burns me up? I deliberately kept my life uneventful, and I got old anyway!” Jesus as the Bread of Life transforms life and makes it eventful. So it's natural for people to want to use Jesus for our own ends and support our causes or endorse our outlook. Thousands had “visions of sugar plums, dancing in their heads” because of this fellow who could make their lives better. But on their terms, not God’s. Jesus wanted them to enjoy abundant life. But they’d gladly settle for an improved lifestyle. That’s always the rub, isn’t it? We keep getting God’s blessings confused with hitting the jackpot.

Does manna have to come out of nowhere in order to qualify as a miracle? What is it that makes something bread from heaven? Is it the substance itself, or is it the One who sends it? Because it’s not just what it is that connotes a miracle, but who sent it. Because God is always sending us something to eat. He feeds the birds, but they have to leave their nests to get it. That’s why what God sends is always life‑giving. But not necessarily what we would’ve preferred. That’s the clue that it’s from God! The manna lessons in the desert taught the people that God would give them what they needed, if not what they wanted. They learned not to hoard, and to share what they could with those who couldn’t gather for themselves.

It’s sad that the Jesus-chasers remembered the manna more than the lessons. The “miracle of the loaves” reminded them of the Exodus and they thought they had their own up-dated Moses to work wonders for them. To test their premise, they wanted Jesus to prove himself by producing bread from heaven on the spot! He already rejected that temptation in the wilderness. But it was the only kind of bread they knew. You see what happens when you take Jesus literally? You’ll miss him most of the time. They wanted miracle food dropped straight out of heaven and they wanted it now; not a relationship with this ordinary teacher. And he graciously honored their hunger even as he refocused it. But he made it clear that it’s not Moses who gives the bread of life, but God. “Whatever,” they shirked, “Just give us this bread – always.”

“Bread” is the perfect metaphor because it encapsulates so much about who Jesus is. Born in Bethlehem, “house of bread,” He feeds us, sustains us, preserves us, restores our strength, as does bread. This is no ordinary loaf for our bodies, but the nourishment of God that nurtures our souls. You can't bake this bread like the jackpot‑kind‑of‑crumbs everybody's looking for. This bread comes only from God. It’s a blessing, free and undeserved. All we have to do is recognize it. But the crowd doesn't get it, so "What must we do to perform the works of God?"

So of the 5000 that got in on the free picnic, few are left as we come to the end of the chapter. They found the message unpalatable. Because it didn’t fit in with their aspirations and pre-conceived ideas. Even some of Jesus disciples left after he said what he did. So he turns to the twelve with the saddest words in the Bible: “Will you also go away?” And Peter was fatalistic: “Where else can we go?” They learned the hard way that day, that Jesus isn’t some short‑order cook, preparing a meal to suit our individual whims. They were looking for the magic. If Jesus could produce bread on demand, then more importantly to them, maybe he could also produce weapons on demand? That’s the bigger issue: could this bread he offered somehow sustain them in their struggle against Roman oppression like the manna in the desert had sustained them when they fled Egyptian oppression? With the Galileans, of whom many were militant zealots, it was more about swords than bread.

Jesus mystified them when he said: “I am the bread of life. Those who come to me will never go hungry and those who believe in me will never be thirsty.” Not what they ate when they sat around the supper table. Rather, it was an offer of the same extraordinary overabundance that he fed all those people on the mountainside. “I am the bread of life” for all life for all time and for time beyond time. I am God’s manna in any human wilderness you might find yourselves: any desolation, or heartbreak, or tragedy. I am the one -- who reminds you every day you live – that God provides exactly what we need: some bread, a cool breeze, a little hope, and kindness: some bond with this ordinary looking Guy who came to bring love to our world.

One of the most heart-warming stories to come out of World War II was a rabbi who tells about what helped him live through a Nazi death camp. They were given barely enough food to survive‑some water, stale bread and a spoon full of lard each week. Despite the harsh conditions, his family continued to observe Sabbath, somehow managing to scrounge around for a candle and a little food. Every week his father saw to it that they faithfully said their Sabbath prayers and pronounced the blessings, even in a concentration camp. As supplies dwindled, one week there was no candle. So his father made a makeshift candle, out of some of the lard and molding it around a string, and used it to lead his family in prayers. The boy couldn’t believe it. When the blessings were done, he confronted his father. "How could you waste what little lard we have to make a candle?" His father answered: "Son, without food we can live for several days. But without hope, we can't live for a single hour."

That’s what Jesus was talking about. "Don’t work for the bread that perishes, but for the bread that endures...for eternal life."

Providence Prayers: (10/4/09)
Gracious God, our Father, beneath whose eye and within whose patience the story of our years is told, compose us in this worship, and help us to pray more nearly as we ought. We thank Thee for this church, full of folks who care what we think and how we feel; surrounded by invisible but real forces ‑‑ like memory and hope, encouragement and grace. And all the things that enhance the gift of life.

We are grateful for the gift of faith that prompts our prayers in worship, for those who conveyed it to us, for life's experiences that tested and confirmed it, for the Christ who makes it worthwhile. Forgive us Lord that much of the time we don't have a clue what to do with Jesus. Crowds still gather because he had God at his beck and call, only to meet his unheard of claim to be the Bread of Life. Our prayers go out to those in our community and across the world whose stomachs are empty -- starving for literal bread, as well as those whose souls are empty, in need of the true bread. Stretch those of us who have more than we need, to do our part in “feeding the hungry, slaking the thirsty, caring for the downtrodden – the least of Thy brothers and sisters.”

May this hour of worship enable us to accept ourselves and be delivered from the need of self‑promotion; to commit ourselves and shake the need to be distracted; and to deny ourselves, that we may neither overestimate nor underestimate Thy many gifts to us. Renew our love for the scriptures, our hunger to make the world a better place, our discontent with mediocrity, our willingness to contend for what’s right, our readiness to admit our limitations, so that our years may count for something. May Thy unfailing love so permeate the goings‑on around this place, that each may count the other precious, and all of us erect within these hallowed walls and beyond, a testimony to the truth that sets men free. Our praise, spoken and unspoken, we offer gladly unto Thee, through Christ our Lord...