Unexpected Bread (2)

Introduction

Bread that Endures

I Am the Bread

Feeding and Flesh

A Hard Saying

Conclusions

Introduction

Too much to cover in as much detail as it deserves.

Goal: to examine the structure, progression, and language of Jesus’s discourse to understand his primary argument.

It’s my belief that this chapter is frequently misunderstood. By saying that, I run the risk of making it sound like I think I’ve found some revolutionary new interpretation. It’s not that at all. I won’t present anything new this morning.

What I hope we can do together is read the text and try to see how Jesus intended his words to be understood, how the original audience heard and understood his words, and how the first readers of John’s gospel read and understood his words.

Setting

Messianic Provision

New Passover meal

Messianic banquet (bread in the wilderness)

Abundance for all

New and Greater Moses

Jesus providing bread

Jesus leading his people across the sea

Will expand the bread from heaven idea, but with an unexpected and dramatic shift.

Reading

Lengthy reading, but an important one.

Jesus a better teacher.

Do some interpretive issues come because we read the text piecemeal rather than as a whole, seeing the progression of Jesus’ words?

[Read John 6:22-58]

First Section: Bread that Endures (26-34)

Seeking because they ate bread — was that wrong?

No, but consider the lengths they have traveled for a basic meal! All these people have now crossed the sea because Jesus fed them and they want more.

I don’t think Jesus is condemning them — they’re seeking him, after all — he’s redirecting them to something of greater importance.

They’re working so hard for more barley loaves, but how quickly have they become hungry again after that first meal! How temporary was that fullness!

Barley loaves are not all that Jesus has to offer. He has come to provide much more, there is more to this picture that they do not yet see, and he pushes those who seek him to look beyond the desire for a quick meal to the real value of what Jesus has come to provide.

Clear connections with Isaiah 55 in this section, particularly Isaiah 55:2.

Isaiah 55:1–2 ESV

“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.

Both these verses are endlessly applicable.

No matter how good the meal is, it is temporary. In fact, often it seems like the better the food is, the more quickly it perishes! But even after you eat it, the fullness that it provides fades away and you’re left hungry again.

Mankind is trapped in a vicious cycle of struggle for food that does not last and cannot satisfy, so there is never a point of satisfaction reached. There’s never a point where you can sit back and relax; in fact, often you look at the people who have the most in this world, who because of their great wealth should probably never again have to worry about having enough bread on the table, and they’re the most anxious about losing it!

The food that perishes cannot bring true satisfaction, but Jesus has come to offer a better way. Just as God offered in Isaiah 55 a rich meal to those who could not afford it, Jesus has come to offer food that does satisfy and sustain.

There’s an element of the curse from Genesis 3 in this, isn’t there? Instead of having fruit readily available to be plucked from the tree and eaten, God told the man that he would eat of the ground in pain, through thorns and thistles, and by the sweat of his face he would eat bread (Genesis 3:17-19).

Jesus has come to provide relief from that curse. He has come to provide bread that is produced, not by the sweat of our brows, but by the sweat of his own (Luke 22:44); bread that is obtained not by working the ground but by belief.

The works of God

Work for the food that endures… what is that work? To believe in the one he has sent.

What sign?

Not necessarily an unreasonable question.

Irony comes from the fact that Jesus just gave them a sign in the feeding of the five thousand.

There’s a suggestion, though, that the people recognize something more must be coming. How is Jesus going to provide this bread that he talks about in verse 27? If he has bread that doesn’t perish but endures to eternal life, how is that going to be given? When is he going to provide it? That’s an open ended question.

True bread

(32) Here is where things really get interesting, because Jesus throws a wrench into things.

The first part of this story has seemed to identify Jesus with Moses, right?

Jesus provides bread.

Jesus leads the people across the sea.

Jesus is a teacher who invites the people to come to him and believe and learn, they even call him Rabbi!

Jesus suggests a misunderstanding of that story.

Moses didn’t provide the bread from heaven, God the Father did.

Jesus identifies himself not with Moses, but with the manna!

So, God gave the manna (bread from heaven), and now he gives a better bread.

As great as that miracle of manna was, as great as the provision was, it was but a type of the true bread to come.

Second Section: I Am the Bread (35-51)

Jesus explicitly identifies himself as the true bread.

He gives it (v27) in the sense that he gives himself.

He is both provider and provision; he is the bread.

Jesus provides a new passover, a messianic feast, but he is the meal.

Still, uncertainty about what exactly he means. How can this be?

Jews grumble, like the Israelites did in the wilderness.

Jesus suggests that he, as the bread of life, is the source of life.

Unlike the manna, which fed for a time but couldn’t provide eternal life, Jesus provides those who come to him with eternal life.

He even makes clear for us what eternal life involves (v44): I will raise him up.

This bread is better than the manna, because those who eat of it will not die but be raised and continue on. In other words, this bread doesn’t just keep you from getting hungry, it keeps you from permanent death!

The imagery is getting stranger.

In v49, Jesus moves from talking about belief to talking about eating.

That could still be part of the same metaphor, though: eating as a way to describe receiving the words of Christ and believing them. It’s a little bit of a strange metaphor, but it works.

At the end of v51, though, Jesus says something stranger.

This is a point where he could clarify and say, “by eating, I mean believe my words” or “by true bread, I mean the message of life that I am bringing to you.”

Instead, Jesus says “the bread that I will give for the life of the world is my flesh.”

If we’re thinking about this on a purely metaphorical level, this doesn’t clarify things. This makes them more confusing.

“Flesh” is a literal kind of word. We should immediately think back, I think, to John 1:14: the Word became flesh. The divine took on human form. God took on a body. The Son took on bone, muscle, flesh.

Jesus says that the bread he will give is not wisdom, is not words, is not teaching, but his very flesh.

It might even be that the language of “giving” should bring to mind other passages: John 3:16, Luke 22:19.

Third Section: Feeding and Flesh (52-58)

For the Jews, things just got weird. This “metaphor” is getting a little too intense.

They ask perfectly reasonable questions. “How can this be? What is the method? What does he mean?”

Again, we have a perfect chance to clarify. If Jesus is trying to get them simply to realize the importance of believing him and listening to his words and accepting them, taking his words in, ingesting and digesting them, then he has a moment of opportunity to say: “Ew, guys, I’m not actually talking about eating my flesh! I’m just saying believe in me and listen to my words!”

He has an audience who isn’t sure what he means but is seeking him, interested in doing the works of God, and wants the true bread that he offers.

He said something that sounded rather literal, they took it literally, and now they’re baffled.

How does Jesus act in this kind of situation elsewhere?

Well, most of the time he clarifies.

When people misunderstand Jesus and take him literally when he means something metaphorically, either he or the author clarifies—particularly in John.

Matthew 16:6 — When he talks about the leaven of the Pharisees and Sadducees, his disciples mistake him to be talking about actual bread and he corrects them until they understand that he’s talking not about literal bread, but teaching.

John 3:5 — When Nicodemus hears Jesus talking about new birth and thinks he’s talking about literal second birth, Jesus clarifies that he’s talking about spiritual birth.

John 4 and John 7 — When Jesus talks about springs of living water, John steps in to clarify that he’s talking about the Holy Spirit.

In John 11:14 — When Jesus tells his disciples that Lazarus has fallen asleep, his disciples take him literally and wonder what the big deal is. Jesus clarifies and speaks plainly, telling them “Lazarus has died.”

On the other hand, when Jesus really means something and is challenged on it, he holds firm.

John 8:56-58, Jesus speaks about Abraham as if he knew him, as if Jesus knew Abraham’s heart and mind. The Jews challenge Jesus, mocking him: have you seen Abraham? And Jesus says, “Truly, truly, I say to you, before Abraham was, I am.”

He doesn’t back down, he doesn’t say “oh, I was speaking metaphorically” because he wasn’t. He was speaking truth—he existed before Abraham, he saw Abraham’s days, and he knew Abraham’s heart—and he confirms it.

In John 6, instead of tempering or softening his language, or clarifying that he’s speaking only metaphorically, Jesus doubles down, even intensifies his wording.

Truly, truly...

Not only am I saying you must eat my flesh, you must drink my blood!

If you don’t, you have no life in you!

Two ways Jesus intensifies his teaching. Bear, for this is important.

Addition of blood

Shocking to Jews, and distasteful even in a metaphorical sense.

Eating flesh is one thing, but Jews couldn’t drink blood. They had to carefully drain it. They were specifically forbidden from eating blood of animals.

Some take this as a reason why Jesus must be speaking purely metaphorically, since he would never tell Jews they must do something contrary to law.

Notice the intentional callbacks to Leviticus 17:11, 14.

Why were the Jews forbidden to eat blood? Because the life was in the blood. The blood was the life of what they were eating. And the lifeblood was to be given on the altar as atonement for sin.

Why does Jesus tell the Jews they must drink his blood? Because it is his life! Whoever drinks it has life, and whoever doesn’t has no life.

In other words, Jesus tells the Jews they must drink his blood for the same reason that they must not drink other blood: the life is in the blood.

Transition from “eat” (phago) to “feed” (trogo)

This is something that has always received a great deal of attention from commentators and readers, some who think it’s significant and some who think it’s not.

Up through verse 53, Jesus has been using a very common term for eating: phagete, a form of the verb esthio.

In verse 54, after he’s been challenged to explain himself, Jesus switches to the term trogo. It’s a much more visceral word, one you could almost hear.

ESV marks the change by moving from “eat” to “feed.” That’s a translation that notes the fact that trogo was often used to describe how animals eat. It’s a kind of graphic term. Some language scholars have suggested that gnaw might be the best English equivalent.

It may also be significant that while we find esthio, the more general term, used metaphorically quite often in other writings, trogo is usually quite literal.

Could Jesus simply be using synonyms interchangeably?

He certainly could, but we should look at how he uses the words to evaluate that possibility.

He doesn’t really use them interchangeably, as in going back and forth between them. Instead, he switches from one to the other and remains consistent. Up to verse 53 on, he only used “eat” (esthio); from verse 54 on, he only uses “feed.”

He doesn’t seem to be switching back and forth, but intensifying.

He intensifies even further in verse 55: my flesh is true food and my blood is true drink.

When Jesus’ audience is confused, when his words seem too literal, even grotesque, when Jesus is given the opportunity to clarify what he means, he doesn’t back down. He doesn’t clarify that he’s simply using vivid imagery to describe a pretty basic truth.

Result of the Discourse: A Hard Saying (60-71)

This is a hard saying, who can listen to it?

Many turned back and no longer walked with him.

What is happening here?

Did Jesus really let the majority of those seeking him turn back because he was so literal with his metaphor about something straightforward that they misunderstood him?

If all Jesus says is a vivid metaphor for belief in him, then we’re saying to the disciples, it’s not hard saying at all! It’s really an easy saying, you’re just misunderstanding him, and Jesus doesn’t tolerate misunderstanding.

We’re forced to think that Jesus purposefully over-literalizes a metaphor in a grotesque manner, refuses to clarify his real meaning, and allows the majority of his disciples to walk away simply because they don’t get his real meaning.

No, what’s happening is that Jesus is speaking plainly about what he offers and what he has come to do. He is setting the table, and most of those who hear him don’t want the meal.

It’s not that Jesus is separating out those who understand the simple meaning of his metaphor from those can’t; the disciples remain as perplexed as anyone. They struggle with it like everyone else does, but they stick around.

They don’t fully understand what he means, yet. They won’t, until the night before his death, when he breaks bread and gives thanks, and gives it to them saying “this is my body” and gives wine, saying “this is my blood.” Then, they will begin to understand.

I think John intended for us to look back on Jesus’ words and connect them to his death and communion.

He twice uses the phrase “had given thanks” (the Greek term from which we get the word Eucharist)—in the narrative of the feeding, in 6:11, Jesus gives thanks before distributing the bread. In 6:23, the same phrase is used to identify the miracle — not the place where Jesus had miraculously produced bread, but the place where they had eaten after he had given thanks.

Root word used frequently, but specific form that John uses twice in chapter 6 is only used 4 other places: Mt 26, Lk 22, Mk 14, 1 Cor 11.

John’s use of that phrase connects the story of the feeding of the five thousand and the bread of life discourse with the institution of the Lord’s Supper, a connection that was clear to early readers of John’s gospel.

Conclusions

We’ve spent a good amount of time working through reasons why I don’t think we can dismiss Jesus’ discourse as a purely metaphorical way to talk about belief in him and acceptance of his teaching.

It has to be more than that.

But what does it mean? Is it teaching transubstantiation? Probably not. It’s not the specific mechanism that’s important, but the principle. There is a principle here that we cannot overlook.

Jesus provides bread for a crowd, a kind of new passover meal, a kind of messianic banquet. But then, in his teaching, he reveals that he has come to offer not just bread but life; life that is only possible because he himself, the Word become flesh, is the offering for this messianic feast.

Jesus is not merely a Rabbi, as the people call him earlier in the chapter, he is the Lamb. He is not merely the message, he is the meal. It’s not enough to hear his words, not to believe on some cognitive level. He must be received.

Do you remember the Passover story? In Exodus 12, when God is giving Moses the instructions for the Passover meal, which is tied to the final plague and the death of the firstborn children, do you remember what they had to do? They had to kill a lamb without blemish, and spread some of its blood on their doorposts. Their homes were marked by the blood of the lamb.

That wasn’t all they did, though: they had to eat the lamb. That wasn’t an optional step; they had to eat the lamb. They couldn’t take any of it outside the house on their journey, they couldn’t take any leftovers with them, they had to eat the whole thing or burn it before the morning.

And in this new Exodus, this new greater Passover, Jesus says to those who would follow after him, you have to eat the Lamb!

Jesus says that life is only attainable through him. Specifically, Jesus says that we obtain that life by eating his flesh and drinking his blood.

It’s a meal — it’s not like the lesser meal that the Israelites ate in the wilderness, because that didn’t bring life.

This meal is better, this meal gives life. As Jesus says in v57, a key verse, this meal brings life because it makes us partakers of the divine nature (to borrow Peter’s language). Jesus has life because he shares the nature of his Father, the nature of God. We gain life by sharing in Jesus, in his nature—a nature that is not merely flesh, which profits nothing, but flesh and spirit.

It is Jesus’ dual nature as both God and man that allows him to become the perfect sacrificial offering, and one that provides to us the life that is only available in his blood. The lamb has been killed, his blood has been poured out to cover us from judgment, and now the table has been set with the feast that we may eat and live.

It’s not enough to think of the Lord’s Table as a mere memorial of what Christ did. It is a memorial, but it’s also a communion. It is a participation in the body and blood of christ (1 Corinthians 10:16-18).

It is not something we do in passive memory. It is something we actively participate in as the fullness of the grace that has been given in the sacrifice of Christ. He has given himself that we may come to him and find life, and we do it in a meal.

To be honest, I don’t care so much about the mechanism. I do care that we don’t shy away from the meaning of Jesus’ because we’re afraid it sounds too much like something that other people teach, and they’re wrong.

I do think it’s possible to take this chapter too literally.

At the same time, I think it’s possible (and perhaps more dangerous) to be so afraid of someone else’s interpretation of this chapter that we end up twisting it to mean something that it doesn’t, saying things Jesus doesn’t say, and softening things Jesus chooses to say plainly.

This is a remarkable passage. In the clearest, plainest, most visceral language that he could have used, Jesus told his listeners that unless they eat his flesh and drink his blood, they have no life in them. That it is their participation in his life, by eating the sacrificial meal he provides through his death, that produces life in them.

The messianic banquet is here, the blind and the lame and the poor have been invited, there is enough for all nations to eat and be filled; the question is whether we want what is being offered. Can we stomach what it takes to find life? Or does the sight of a broken body and shed blood offend our sensibilities?

In this Gospel, the life is in the blood. And the Tree of Life is given for us to eat, but what hangs on it has no beauty to be desired. On this tree hangs a beaten and bloody king.