the bread of life

Then the people began to murmur in disagreement because he had said, “I am the bread that came down from heaven.” They said, “Isn’t this Jesus, the son of Joseph? We know his father and mother. How can he say, ‘I came down from heaven’?” (John 6:41-42)

Jesus was audacious, if nothing else. He could really move a crowd. The only problem was that sometimes he moved them away.

But it seemed that he did this on purpose. He didn’t want people following him who didn’t really care. He didn’t want casual hangers-on. He wanted committed followers who believed in what he did.

With his charisma and ability, Jesus could have pastored a mega-church. He could have had a huge bunch of people with a huge building and classes and support groups and a Starbuck’s in the lobby. All this could have been his.

But that wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted to do the will of the Father who sent him. he wanted to obey God.

Now that doesn’t mean that mega-church pastors are not serving God. They are. But Jesus didn’t come to do that.

He knew that he only had a short time to do what he needed to do. And, not only that, this was the first time it was done. No one had laid any real groundwork for it. He was, essentially, starting from scratch.

Sure, the prophets had talked of him and God had mentioned all the way back to Genesis 3. But he had to do what he had to do and didn’t have the time to be political. He was starting his church.

People gravitated to him easily, especially when he fed them and showed them miracles. They loved that. And they came by the droves to see it. It was almost like dinner theatre, a few miracles, then dinner, then maybe a few miracles again. They could feel so spiritual and get fed at the same time.

But then Jesus had to go and ruin it all for them. They wanted bread. After all, their forefathers had been given bread by God, so what was so different? In some ways, since they were the chosen people, God owed them the bread.

When Jesus fed them, they figured that it was just their rightful due. It was what the Messiah was going to do: take care of his people. A bunch of miracles, a lot of food, then drive the Romans out and paradise would be established.

But then Jesus had to go and ruin it all for them. He said, you want the bread? Here it is. I am the Bread of Life. I am the bread which comes down from heaven. I am that manna.

That didn’t sit well with them. So they did what every crowd does: they went to character assassination. Who does he think he is? He is from near here. He has no right to tell us stuff like that.

Now just a short time ago, they were eating his food. At that time he was fine, he was okay, he was from God.

But now, now that he starts getting different from what they want, they get angry. Now that he doesn’t agree with them, they are beginning to think he is not so smart after all. As long as he agreed with them and went with their agenda, he was fine. But when he moves off into uncharted and unwanted territory, they are through with him.

He could have said, Oops, sorry. I was mistaken. Y’all sit down and I’ll have some more food. Please forgive me. They would have milled around for a bit, you know, to show that they were their own people and they had their standards. But sooner or later, they would have sat down and the party would have been on again.

But he didn’t. He continued his own way. A few verses down, after everybody has left him, he asks the apostles, Will you go too? Their response: where will we go? You have the answers. They had backed a weird horse and they knew it, but they also had the sense to realize that he was the only one.

He ended up moving the crowd all right. He moved them to kill him and then he moved them to accept him.

After all, he was the Bread of Life. There was no one else to go to. And a lot of those people finally realized it.