New Every Morning: Christ’s Ongoing Provision

So they said to him, “What sign are you going to give us, then, so that we may see it and believe you? What work are you performing? Our ancestors ate the manna in the wilderness, as it is written, ‘He gave them bread from heaven to eat.'”

Then Jesus said to them, “Very truly, I tell you, it was not Moses who gave you the bread from heaven, but it is my Father who gives you the true bread from heaven. [John 6:30-32].

As we turn to this week’s Gospel lesson, John 6:24-35 (Eleventh Sunday after Pentecost, RCL, Year B), we encounter a somewhat beleaguered Jesus. The ink on last week’s headline is barely dry:

Local Rabbi Feeds 5,000 with 5 Loaves

They want more. Jesus has retreated, but the crowd has followed him around to the other side of the “sea.” They inquire of him, “Rabbi, when did you come here?” [John 6:25]. They seem to think that Jesus owes them not only another supper, but an explanation as to his itinerary. They point out that Moses fed the Israelites in the wilderness with manna. It sure would be great if Jesus could match that feat. Jesus tells them two things: (a) that it wasn’t Moses who fed the Israelites, but rather Yahweh; and (b) they should not aspire for the food that perishes, but rather for that which sustains forever.

The crowd can only see through the rear-view mirror. They want to recapture that wonderful “thing” that happened before. If it was good enough for Moses, it’s good enough for them. Jesus has something different in mind.

In 1990, when I was three years into what would become an eight-year part-time assignment at Asbury UMC (adjacent to Duke’s East Campus), the congregation had a long-established Mothers’ Day tradition that echoed practices in many other Protestant churches. It had begun in the late 1940s and was initially intended as a “pew stuffer.” The mother who had the most children in attendance would be awarded a nice corsage on that special day honoring motherhood.

Well, you know how celebrations in Southern churches go—and grow. Anytime something “works,” you try to bottle it. And so, by the late 1980s, when Jane, the kids, and I arrived at Asbury, the church had added multiple Mothers’ Day awards.

There were additional awards for the oldest and youngest mothers present. A corsage was presented to the mother whose son or daughter had traveled the longest distance “to be with Mama.” Flowers were also given if three successive generations of mothers was present that day (in-laws counted). That the same women tended to receive the same awards year after year or that the several unmarried ladies in the congregation could never be included didn’t deter Asbury at all. Tradition is tradition.

In 1990, tradition had an unfortunate collision with morality. That year, with the Reverend Wally Ellis enjoying his annual role as Master of Ceremonies, the youngest mother corsage went to a 16-year-old, unwed girl who had delivered a son several weeks earlier. The newborn was the great-grandson of a not-so-prominent member.

Well, almost as soon as the Benediction had been given that Mothers’ Day, the Worship Committee voted to do away with the annual awards. That our Lord had been born under similar circumstances didn’t seem to register with anyone.

The church’s reaction of simply ending the tradition, rather than seeking a new perspective, reflects our human tendency to grapple with change. But Jesus calls us to something far more transformative: an openness to the very nature of Yahweh’s ongoing work in the world.

Yahweh, by His very nature, is a God of newness and ongoing creation. When He provided manna in the wilderness, it wasn’t just about meeting physical needs, but about teaching trust in His daily provision and His continual renewal. Manna’s provision wasn’t about building a successful community, but rather a faithful one.

The same principle echoes in the Lord’s Prayer: “Give us this day our daily bread.” This isn’t a plea for stockpiling God’s blessings, but an acknowledgment of our continual dependence on God’s fresh provision.

Similarly, while we may experience powerful moments of conversion or insight, Yahweh doesn’t want us to build shrines to past experiences. Instead, He invites us to be open to the new ways He’s working today, to receive and utilize the gifts He’s giving in this moment.

This openness to God’s newness isn’t about being flexible for flexibility’s sake, or about adapting to changing cultural circumstances. Rather, it’s about aligning ourselves with the very character of God, who is always doing a new thing (Isaiah 43:19). It’s about building a faithful community that is attuned to the ongoing, creative work of Yahweh in our midst.

As we consider Yahweh’s nature of continual renewal and our call to be open to His ongoing work, we’re led back to Jesus’ powerful declaration:

I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never be hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty (John 6:35).

Jesus isn’t just offering another form of manna or even a new tradition to replace old ones. He’s presenting Himself as the ultimate, ever-fresh provision from God. In Christ, we find not just sustenance for a day, but eternal satisfaction.

The “bread of life” isn’t a one-time meal or a past miracle to be remembered. Instead, it’s a living, ongoing relationship with the One who is always new, always present, always sufficient. When we come to Jesus, we’re not just looking back at what God has done, but forward to what He is doing and will do.

This “bread” doesn’t spoil or need to be gathered anew each day like manna. Yet, paradoxically, it is always fresh, always meeting our deepest needs in ways we couldn’t have anticipated and sometimes even fail to understand.

Are we coming to Jesus as the bread of life? Are we open to the new ways He wants to nourish and satisfy us today? Or are we still looking for yesterday’s manna, yesterday’s blessings, clinging to past experiences or traditions? May we all have the courage to release our grip on the familiar, to stop simply commemorating past provisions, and instead to embrace Christ Himself—the living bread—the ever-new provision of God for our deepest hunger and thirst.