From the Easy Chair

“Sir,” they said, “always give us this bread.”

Then Jesus declared, “I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never go hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty” [John 6:34-35].

Have you ever had that eerie feeling that you needed something and yet, you couldn’t quite put a name on it? For example, I remember a few years ago, after our father died, I would sometimes find myself sitting in my reading chair, gazing off into space for something that seemed just beyond my visual reach. On several such occasions, Jane entered the room and, after seeing my expression, allowed that I seemed deep in thought. “What’s on your mind?”

My response each time was quite truthful, “I don’t know.”

For many of us, we spend so much of our lives attending to what we perceive as needs: a decent salary, a job with a boss whom we don’t constantly want to squash, a decent car, some money put aside for rainy days and college tuition, an occasional date night with a spouse.

And then “it” happens. “It” can be an illness, the death of a friend or family member, a divorce, a devastating financial loss—supply your own event or phenomenon disruptive enough to upset the apple cart. Faced with the “it”, the so-called “needs” to which you’ve spent so much time and energy seem to evaporate, or at least seem unimportant. You retire to your own chair, subconsciously assume your own pensive stare, and wonder to yourself, “What’s it all about, Alfie?”

For the Samaritan woman who encounters Jesus at Jacob’s well [see John 4], the “it” was a string of five bad marriages, coupled with an ongoing live-in relationship with a man to whom she was not married. She goes to the well at the hottest time of the day, in order to avoid the stares, the words, and the judgment of those around her. She strikes up a conversation with a young rabbi about water—only it really isn’t about water. He’s talking to her about the “it.”

She’s so caught up in the chaos of her world that she cannot imagine that there might be more. Her world is so broken that she long ago stopped wondering if there might be a way out, an alternative to her “it.” She gazes at Jesus, and He sees her heart and offers her “living water” [John 4:10]. He tells her he knows of special water, that everyone who drinks this water will never be thirsty again.

In the crowd that was fed by Jesus in last week’s Gospel lesson [John 6:14-15], there are many like the Samaritan woman. They’ve lived hand to mouth for as long as they can remember. The God of their grandfathers seems all too distant to them. Living under Roman oppression, with many of their Jewish leaders quite cozy with the powers that be, most within the crowd can only eke out a meager existence. They long for something that they can’t quite nail down. They hear of a new rabbi who has burst upon the scene, and they wonder. Might there be more?

And so, in this week’s Gospel reading [John 6:24-35, RCL, Year B], the crowd, stomachs still relatively full from the feast laid before them the previous evening by Jesus—with the fine assistance of the young lad with five barley loaves and two fish—has continued to follow after our Lord. They strike up a conversation with Him about bread. But just as Jesus’ conversation with the Samaritan woman wasn’t really about water, His conversation with the crowd really isn’t about bread. The conversation instead is about moving them beyond the “it.”

Some within the crowd are able to move part of the way along the discussion that Jesus offers. They draw a parallel between the manna provided to the wandering Israelites before they entered the Promised Land and the dinner that Jesus provided them one night earlier. They allow that Moses gave them manna in the wilderness. What sign does Jesus have for them? Jesus, of course, corrects them by stressing that it wasn’t Moses who provided the manna; it was Yahweh [John 6:32]. And wait for it, wait for it—Jesus adds that it is Yahweh who can give them “true bread from heaven” [John 6:32]. If they eat this bread, they will never be hungry again!

Just as the Samaritan woman commanded Jesus, “Sir, give me this water so that I won’t get thirsty and have to keep coming here to draw water” [John 4:15], so also the crowd commands Jesus, “Sir, always give us this bread” [John 6:34]. Jesus’ response is startling, for it cuts through all the “its” in the lives of the crowd and moves to our Lord’s central point. He says, “I am the bread of life” [John 6:35]. You see, the crowd, caught up in the mire of their daily lives, tossed and thrown by the world around them, think the discussion is about bread, but it’s really about life. They’ve come looking for a baker, someone who can give them what they think they need today, and then turn around and do it again tomorrow.

What they find in Jesus is someone who won’t offer them (or us) five keys to a successful career, or three Bible-proved ways to solidify your finances, or even seven things that can spice up your marriage. Jesus doesn’t offer what we think we need; He offers what we need. He doesn’t offer us water, or bread. He offers Himself, the unique gift of God the Father, the only gift that is ever capable of sustaining us forever.

I invite us all to find an easy chair and sit down. For a few minutes, let’s contemplate our so-called needs. Now, let us gaze into the distance as we try to see that which is just beyond the reach of our eyes. Now blink twice and think not of your needs, but of our Savior, who gives life to the world [John 6:33].