Lent 4 (Laetare)

Text: “15 Perceiving then that they were about to come and take him by force to make him king, Jesus withdrew again to the mountain by himself” (John 6:15).

Throughout Scripture, the Lord repeatedly says the same thing to His people: You can trust Me.

When His people are afraid, when they are uncertain, when they cannot see what lies ahead, the Lord continually reassures them. In one way or another, across the centuries, He keeps saying the same thing: You can trust Me.

The irony, of course, is not hard to see. Between God and us, He is the trustworthy One. He does not lie. He does not fail. He does not forget His promises. And yet it is we who struggle to trust.

The problem, of course, lies with us. We know how untrustworthy people can be. Promises are broken. Commitments fade. People speak with the best intentions, but those good intentions do not carry through when what they promise costs them more than they thought. Because we know how unreliable human promises can be, we sometimes project that same suspicion onto God.

And yet the story of Scripture stretches across thousands of years with the Lord patiently showing His people the same truth again and again: You can trust Me.

You see that struggle clearly in the wilderness in Exodus 16.

Israel has already been delivered. The Passover has spared them. The Red Sea has opened before them. Pharaoh’s army has been destroyed behind them. The Lord has rescued them from slavery with a mighty hand.

And yet, not long after their deliverance, the people begin to grumble.

They say: “Would that we had died by the hand of the LORD in the land of Egypt, when we sat by the meat pots and ate bread to the full” (Exodus 16:3).

It is a remarkable complaint. Egypt, in their memory, has suddenly become a pleasant place. The meat pots remain vivid in their minds. The bread they once ate stands out clearly.

But the whips are forgotten.

The forced labor is forgotten.

The oppression is forgotten.

Their memory has been edited by unbelief.

And yet the Lord answers their complaint with mercy. He gives them manna from heaven. Bread appears each morning on the ground. The people gather it, and it sustains them in the wilderness.

But notice how the Lord gives it.

He does not give them barns full of grain. He does not give them storehouses that will last for years. Instead, He gives them bread day by day. Each morning they must gather it again. Each morning, they must rely on the Lord’s promise again. It is as though the Lord is saying to them every day: You can trust Me. Tomorrow morning the bread will be there again.

But, even then, many refuse to believe Him. Some try to store the manna overnight, as though God’s promise cannot be trusted tomorrow. Others refuse to gather it when the Lord provides it. The God who gives daily bread still finds a people who do not trust Him.

In Exodus, that distrust is easy to see. It is loud. It is open. It is accompanied by grumbling. That is always a good sign that the hearts of God’s people are far from Him. In John 6, the same struggle appears again, but it is not quite as obvious.

A great crowd follows Jesus into the wilderness. Thousands of people gather around Him. Evening approaches. Food is scarce. And there Jesus performs a remarkable miracle.

Five loaves. Two fish.

Five thousand people fed.

And they are not barely fed. They are bountifully fed. Everyone eats. Everyone is satisfied. And when the disciples gather the leftovers, twelve baskets remain. It is a moment of astonishing abundance.

Surely now the people will trust Him. Surely now they will recognize who stands before them. But that is not what happens.

Instead, the crowd sees the miracle and immediately tries to seize Jesus and make Him king (John 6:15). Now, there is no grumbling this time. In fact, the people seem enthusiastic. They follow Jesus. They listen to Him. They are amazed by what He has done. But, beneath the excitement, the same problem remains: They want security; they want a king who guarantees bread.

They want a king who will remove the uncertainty of life. A king who removes the need for trust. They want the gift. But they do not want to have to trust the Giver.

They see the bread, but they do not yet see the One who is saying to them once again: You can trust Me.

Forty years of providing daily meals was not enough to persuade our sinful humanity to trust Him. Five thousand fed with a few loaves and fishes, with twelve baskets left over, was not enough to persuade the sinful nature to trust Him. The Lord’s answer was to keep giving. When even daily bread and miraculous abundance were not enough, He gave something greater still. He gave Himself.

At the cross the Bread of Life was broken for the life of the world. There, the God we doubted bore the sin of our distrust and claimed us as His own. The One we refused to trust gave His own life for us. He did not wait for our trust before acting. He was faithful to His Word, even when it required Him to pour out His very life for us.

He gave Himself for those who grumbled, for those who doubted, for those who longed to return to slavery. The beloved Son of God became a slave—even to the point of death—in order to make His rebellious slaves into sons of God.

Dear brothers and sisters in Christ, that is the promise in which you live.

At the cross, the Bread of Life was broken for the life of the world. And the Lord who gave Himself there has not stopped giving Himself to His people.

Even now He places into your hands the Bread of Life—His own body and blood, given and shed for you for the forgiveness of sins. In this holy meal the promise of the cross is placed before you again and again. The same faithfulness revealed at Golgotha is given to you here, strengthening you to live in that promise.

For those who live in that promise—who know that their life rests entirely on the mercy of Christ—something begins to change in the way they live.

There is no need to prove themselves. Success, reputation, and the approval of others fade to the background. They certainly do not have to pretend that they are stronger, wiser, or more put together than they really are.

They are free.

You are free.

Free simply to live the life God has given you. Free to serve the people God has placed around you. Free to acknowledge your weaknesses without fear, because your standing before God does not depend on your strength.

Your life rests on Christ. You belong to the One who has proven His faithfulness. Therefore do not live as though you are still alone in the wilderness.

The One who fed His people day by day, the One who fed the five thousand in abundance, the One who gave His own life for you will not abandon His people now.

Trust Him.