The Lord Who Sets His Own Parameters

When the people saw the sign that he had done, they began to say, “This is indeed the prophet who is to come into the world.” When Jesus realized that they were about to come and take him by force to make him king, he withdrew again to the mountain by himself [John 6:14-15].

For many of us, the feeding of the multitude story ranks high on our list of Gospel favorites. As you may know, it’s the only miracle story found in all four Gospels. The Gospel reading for this upcoming Sunday, the Ninth Sunday after Pentecost (RCL, Year B) is John’s version, which has several important variations. For example, John’s is the only version that tells us that the donor of the five loaves and two fish was a young boy (John 6:9). John’s is also the only Gospel that specifies the type of loaves—barley (John 6:9). Bread made from barley was common among the poor in Palestine. Accordingly, John seems intent upon describing the type of folks who naturally followed Jesus.

The Gospel writer, John, describes Jesus’ action over the bread as “giving thanks”—using the Greek eucharisteo (John 6:11). In the other Gospels, Jesus is said to have “blessed” the bread before its distribution. That may appear to be a narrow difference, but it emphasizes the Eucharistic themes often found in John’s Gospel. To that Eucharistic theme is added an important temporal detail made known to us only in John’s Gospel—that the feeding of the multitude took place at a time near to the festival of Passover (John 6:4). The juxtaposition of Passover and Eucharist are at the heart of John’s story.

We remember the story well. Jesus had attempted to retreat to “the mountain” with His disciples (John 6:3). His heart is moved by the approaching multitude and so, Jesus offers a question to Phillip and the others, “Where shall we buy bread, that these may eat?” (John 6:5). He’s testing his band of disciples, of course (John 6:6), since it isn’t at all clear that bread can actually be purchased nearby and, more important, Jesus and the disciples don’t have sufficient resources to close the transaction (or so it seems). Philip has done the math: It will take more than 200 denarii (six month’s wages for an average Palestinian man) to purchase bread, and even then, it would be just a little bread per person (John 6:7).

Peter’s brother, Andrew, adds that there is a young boy with five loaves and two small fish—apparently an appropriate lunch for a young lad. Jesus instructs the disciples to have the crowd (5,000 in number) sit down on the grass. Jesus gives thanks, distributes the loaves and fish to his disciples who, in turn, then distribute to the crowd. When all had as much as they desired, Jesus told the disciples to “gather up all that remains, so that nothing is lost” (John 6:12).

When those in the crowd had seen “the sign” that Jesus had performed—recall that the Gospel writer, John, refers to Jesus’ miracles as “signs”—they proclaim, “This is truly the Prophet who is to come into the world” (John 6:14). The people have connected the dots, but we may need some context if we are to do so ourselves. Yahweh had told Moses that at some point in the future, He would raise up another prophet like Moses (see Deuteronomy 18:15-18). The well-fed Palestinian crowd depicted in John 6 has connected the dots. Jesus must be that prophet! Before them stands the One who will fulfill their long and hungry expectations.

Unfortunately, the crowd (and perhaps many of us) has missed the point. They see a king, a political or military leader who might serve their desires. Recall that the original Passover had more than strong religious/theological overtones; it was a political statement as well. No longer would the Hebrew nation serve Egyptian masters. No longer would they be subject to Egyptian laws. The first Passover signaled a kind of revolution and many living in first century Palestine longed for that same relief, only this time, it was relief from the dominant powers in Rome. And so, as these folks got up from their seated positions on the grass, they saw before them a leader who could fulfill all their desires.

It may not be too different for those of us living 20 centuries later. How many of us fail to see the glory of what Yahweh is doing in our world because we stay focused on a vision of a Savior that is limited by our immediate concerns? We see Yahweh’s Grace and Peace, but only through the distortion of our own eyes, modified by the hunger within our own being. We see bread and fish, but cannot always gaze upon our Lord.

Like those in Jesus’ earthly time, many of us see Him as a leader who will fulfill our desires. All too often, we want to domesticate Jesus. We may be so sure that he agrees with us—or that anyone in their right mind would agree, and Jesus, of course, is the epitome of a right mind. We’re sure that He will no doubt overthrow our foes. He’s the sort of prophet who will institute a new and great kingdom that will echo all our concerns.

Some of us, therefore, see Him as being on the side of a strong and prosperous America (recall that many who came to this land 200 or more years ago saw it as a new Jerusalem, a promised land of sorts). He’ll crack a whip. He’ll reinstate prayer in schools. He’ll sponsor weekly prayer breakfasts for business leaders. He’ll reestablish Sunday blue laws and get tough on crime.

Still others see Him as fulfilling all our progressive dreams. He’ll embody the several slogans printed on the BLM signs in our front yards. He’ll remind us that He stands for open borders, in spite of the fact that our churches spend tens of thousands of dollars each year protecting our property from the likes of the folks pouring across the Rio Grande. We, of course, won’t ask Him if unborn Black Lives Matter. That’s because when mainline Protestant church speak and pray for “justice,” we’re usually referring, of course, to the sort of justice that favors those who are fully formed and breathing air outside their mother’s womb.

The sadness is, of course, that our focus on our world and our needs—whatever our vested interests—causes us to miss the depths of what Yahweh is actually doing. Two thousand years ago, Yahweh—through Jesus—wasn’t just feeding 5,000 people their supper. Yahweh was showing us that He is acting graciously upon us. Yahweh was showing us the sort of world that is possible if we accept the gift of Jesus Himself. Yahweh was showing us that we don’t need Christ’s presence in our lives for tonight; we need His presence continuously if we are ever to move away from our so-called “needs” to a new world, a world in which we lavish within the caring love of our Savior.

Do we hope for a god that meets our perceived needs? Do we instead long for—and accept—a Savior who breaks into our world, casts aside our perceived desires, and provides us with a presence that lasts forever? Can we gaze past our perceived needs to an eternal cosmos that is ruled not by our concerns, not by a savior that we could construct, but by the only One who was willing to die for us on a cross? Do we hope for a Lord who is among us even now, who cares for us, even now, and yet who is a Lord who sets His own parameters and who doesn’t wait for us to construct them on our own?