John 6:35, 47-51
Jesus said to them, “I am the bread of life: whoever comes to me shall not hunger, and whoever believes in me shall never thirst. . . .
Truly, truly, I say to you, whoever believes has eternal life. I am the bread of life. Your fathers ate manna in the wilderness, and they died. This is the bread that comes down from heaven, so that one may eat of it and not die. I am the living bread that came down from heaven. If anyone eats of this bread, he will live forever. And the bread that I will give for the life of the world is my flesh.” (ESV)
One of my favorite adjustments that our family has made during this pandemic has been to purchase locally made bread from Niedlov’s Bakery and Café on the Southside. Niedlov’s has long been a favorite study spot for both John Mark and me, and as bread was flying off the grocery store shelves almost as fast as toilet paper, we decided that buying bread locally would be a great way to support one of our favorite local businesses as well as satisfying the ever present hunger for sandwiches in our three young kids. The experience of eating freshly baked bread, even if we haven’t been some of the thousands of people making it in their own kitchens for the first time, has been so enjoyable. But we have found that even the best bread, even our favorite bread, does not last. It still leaves you hungry after a while, and if left on the counter for too long, it still grows stale or spoils. Bread alone will not satisfy.
John 6 is all about the bread that satisfies. The scene opens with the feeding of the 5,000 from only a young boy’s lunch—five loaves and two fish. Each person ate until they were full, and the disciples collected what was left. The people recognize Jesus as the “Prophet who has come into the world” (v. 14) and the next day come looking for Jesus on the other side of the sea. But Jesus, being the one who knows both the mind and the heart, confronts the crowd. They are missing the point of the miracle. They are seeking Him because he satisfied their stomachs and not because they recognize him to be the Savior sent to satisfy their souls.
It is easy to see ourselves in the crowd, is it not? Seeking to find Jesus because we want something from him? Hoping that he can satisfy the various longings of our heart, hoping that he can meet our needs. Jesus is telling those that followed him all the way to the other side of the sea, that to seek after him for any other reason than to find him is to be left wanting. This season has exposed so many of the longings of our hearts, but if we are honest, do we not know that even if these longings are met, our hearts will still be restless? Have we not seen that our hunger is not primarily for community, security, and a sense of purpose (as good of gifts as these may be)? But rather, have we not seen that our hunger is actually for him, and that maybe in the losing of these things, we find the source of our real hunger, and taste of the one who satisfies our souls.
Throughout the conversation in John 6, both the crowd and Jesus himself compare the miracle on the mountainside and the present circumstances of their hearts to God’s people in the wilderness. After God rescues his people from slavery in Egypt, he feeds them—in the desert, for forty years, with manna from heaven. But the manna was given to sustain, never to satisfy. The people would be hungry again the next day. Eventually, they would all die. What the people were supposed to see in the miracle, was that something greater than Moses is here. They were to see Jesus as the bread from heaven—the final gift of God to meet their greatest need.
And what is that greatest need? Relationship with the God himself. It’s what the people missed in the wilderness. It’s what the crowd is missing here. It is what Jesus does not want us to miss.
I AM the Bread of Life. . .
Jesus says that he is the bread of life. If we come to him, we will not hunger. If we believe in him, we will not thirst. To come and to believe and to put our faith in Jesus Christ is to find true satisfaction for our souls, to find the true rest that our hearts are seeking. Sinclair Ferguson said it this way,
Faith is like eating something for which we have been famished. It is like drinking something for which we have been thirsting. It is discovering in Jesus Christ that the heart cries of our souls are all met in him.
Are you famished this morning? Are you thirsty? Jesus says, feed upon me and you will not hunger. Drink of me, and you will not thirst. Eat the bread that I give, and you will have eternal life.
Eternal life is a central concept in John’s gospel, and in 17:3, Jesus defines what he means by the term:
And this is eternal life, that they know you, the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom you have sent.
Eternal life, according to Jesus, it to know him. And this is not knowledge merely in the cognitive sense, but intimate knowledge of who he is. Eternal life is close relationship with God himself. The relationship we have been created for. The relationship God has been pursuing with his people through all of history. Those who know Jesus will experience it fully in the new heavens and the new earth, when God will dwell with his people and we will see him face to face. But what Jesus is saying here is that this intimate knowledge is not only a future hope, but a present gift. We can know him—intimately, closely, personally now. The satisfaction of our souls is not a far off hope, but a present reality. The relationship we were created for, the intimacy we crave, the person who will satisfy—He is ours now, the bread of life.
This bread is a gift to us, but came at the greatest of costs to him. In verse 51, Jesus says, “And the bread that I will give for the life of the world is my flesh.” God has met our greatest need by giving what was hardest to give—namely his Son on the cross. There the Savior was poured out, that we might be filled. His relationship with the Father was broken so that ours might be restored. He has redeemed us that we may be fed. He has saved us so that he might satisfy.
With our eyes fixed on the cross of Christ, we can look at all the other needs of our lives and longings of our hearts in a new way. The circumstances of our lives may not change, but in seeing and knowing Jesus, our perspective does. Because God has met our truest needs and deepest longings in the person and work of Christ, we can trust him with all the lesser longings of our hearts. We can feast upon him and know him and rest in his character.
Years ago, Paige Benton Brown wrote an article on singleness that encouraged me greatly. She wrote about trusting God’s character in the midst of her deep longing to be married. She writes this,
Can God be any less good to me on the average Tuesday morning than he was on that monumental Friday afternoon when he hung on a cross in my place? The answer is a resounding no. God will not be less good to me tomorrow either, because God cannot be less good to me. His goodness is not the effect of his disposition but the essence of his person—not an attitude but an attribute.
God cannot be less good to us in 2020 either, in the midst of a global pandemic and all the anxieties and uncertainties it brings. His character is sure; it does not change. He can be known by us. It is this knowledge for which he died—intimate, rich, personal of the God who gave himself to meet our needs and to satisfy our souls.
Isaiah records God’s invitation to his people in chapter 55,
Come, everyone who thirsts, come to the waters;
and he who has no money, come, buy and eat!
Come, buy wine and milk, without money and without price.
Why do you spend your money for that which is not bread
and your labor for that which does not satisfy?
Listen diligently to me, and eat what is good,
and delight yourselves in rich food.
Incline your ear and come to me;
hear that your soul may live. . . . (ESV)
Friends, may we come this morning—hungry, longing, needy—may we come to the one who gave himself for us. May we come to the Bread of Life, feast on him by faith, and find true satisfaction for our souls.