To Whom Shall We Go?

And he said, “For this reason I have told you that no one can come to me unless it is granted by the Father.”

Because of this many of his disciples turned back and no longer went about with him.

So Jesus asked the twelve, “Do you also wish to go away?”

Simon Peter answered him, “Lord, to whom can we go? You have the words of eternal life. We have come to believe and know that you are the Holy One of God” [John 6:65-69].

Three years ago today, a close friend, Rick Jenkins, died here in Durham. A number of you, particularly those in Carolina Arbors, knew Rick well. During his long bout with lung cancer, he and I shared many deep conversations. With Rick, I enjoyed two roles. I was, first of all, his friend. I still cherish that friendship. And second, with Rick, I served as a pastor of sorts.

At Rick’s memorial service, I shared how his faith had deepened in the four or five years before his death. I also shared—he specifically had cleared me to do so—that for Rick, faith didn’t come easily. He allowed me to share that his most common prayer was taken from Mark 9:24:

I believe, help my unbelief.

On several occasions, I shared with Rick that his prayer is uttered by many of us. It’s a prayer that acknowledges both our desire to believe and our need for divine help in believing. It’s a prayer that recognizes that faith is both a gift from God and a human choice to trust.

That two-fold dynamic is at work in the Gospel lesson assigned in the Lectionary for this upcoming Sunday [John 6:56-69, the Fourteenth Sunday after Pentecost, RCL, Year B]. Some additional context is required.

For five weeks now, the Revised Common Lectionary has given us Gospel readings from the long, important Bread of Life passages found in the 6th Chapter of John (Year B). John 6 begins with Jesus feeding the 5,000, followed by His walking on water. These miracles set the stage for His profound teachings about being the Bread of Life.

The crowd, amazed by the feeding miracle, follows Jesus, seeking more signs. They reference the manna their ancestors ate in the wilderness, hoping Jesus might provide similar ongoing sustenance. Jesus progressively reveals His identity, moving from providing physical bread to telling them that He can provide a heavenly bread that gives life to the world [6:33].

Like the woman at the well, who thought that Jesus was offering her a better kind of water, and like Nicodemus, who thought that Jesus was talking about re-entering a mother’s womb, the crowd thinks that Jesus has perhaps perfected a new baking recipe. But no, Jesus ups the ante. He tells them that that He is the Bread come down from Heaven [6:35]. He culminates this teaching with the startling statement:

Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood abide in me and I in them [6:55].

As Jesus’ teachings become more challenging, we see a shift in the audience. It’s no longer just the crowd but even some of His disciples who find His words difficult to accept. A quick parenthetical: When John says “disciples,” he isn’t speaking just about “the Twelve.” For the writer of the fourth Gospel, “disciples” refers to the larger group that has followed along after Jesus.

Jesus, looking at these disciples, tells them that there are some among them who do not believe [6:64]. He continues, “For this reason I have told you that no one can come to me unless it is granted by the Father” [6:65]. The disciples’ reaction?

Because of this many of his disciples turned back and no longer went about with him [6:66].

Several commentators have said that Jesus starts with a crowd of 5,000. By the time He’s finished telling everyone who He is, why He’s come, and what He’s about, He’s back to a band of Twelve. And one of them will betray him! Jesus turns to “the twelve,” and asks, “Do you also wish to go away?” [6:67, emphasis is mine].

Simon Peter’s response is priceless. Peter, who is well-known for his statement at Caesarea Philippi, “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God” [Mark 8:27-33], who is known for his triple denial of Christ before the cock crows, tells Jesus:

Lord, to whom can we go? You have the words of eternal life [6:68].

Unlike those who heard Jesus and then turned away, Peter tacitly acknowledges the difficulty of Jesus’ path, but he also recognizes that despite the difficulties, Jesus’ words are life-giving; they are uniquely valuable. Peter appears to recognize that the life offered by Jesus is not one filled with soft pillows, but one that produces bruises as one grapples with the sharp edges of faith. Within Peter’s affirmation, there is a bit of a paradox. He believes, yet his faith seems partly born out of necessity. His essentially pleads, “I believe, help my unbelief.”

Peter’s response acknowledges that faith is both a divine gift and a human choice. At the beginning of their relationship, Jesus chose Peter and the others. They did not choose Him. No one comes to the Son unless it is granted by the Father. But Peter and the others are given a choice. They can leave like the others. Faith is given by God. It is sustained by Grace, not by personal strength. As clear as Peter’s statement seems in the moment, we know the challenges that lie ahead for him. We know that faith for him—and us—is a struggle.

“Lord, we believe. Help our unbelief.”

John Wesley, the father of American Methodism, was known for his devout nature, his love of Holy Scripture, his devotion to the poor, his insistence on personal responsibility when it came to spiritual growth and devotion to God. He is less well known for his spiritual struggles. He fretted that he was overly academic in his faith. He often doubted his faith.

In January 1736, Wesley was on board a ship bound for America. Also onboard was a group of Moravians, some heading for Pennsylvania, while others headed for what we call “Old Salem.” As a Moravian onboard worship service began, a sudden, ferocious storm broke over the ship. Wesley relates that “a terrible screaming began among the English. The Germans calmly sung on.”

A few months later, confessing his shortcomings to his covenant counselor, Wesley asked how does one preach faith to others when you lack faith yourself? The counselor’s response, “Preach faith till you have it; and then, because you have it, you will preach faith.”

In choosing to “preach faith til you have it,” Wesley was following in Peter’s footsteps. As Peter had noted, Where else could Wesley go? For Wesley, Christ is the Way, the Truth, and the Life. There could be no life outside of Faith, even though the life that comes through Faith must come from the Father.

Out of Wesley’s struggles came a powerful revelation: that faith is not a one-time decision, but rather a continual process of believing and seeking divine help for our unbelief.

In my last weeks with Rick, we shared poignant stories of our respective triumphs and failures. We laughed and sighed over the challenges of fatherhood.

We offered prayers of thanksgiving for lovely, caring spouses who both ease and share our burdens. And we marveled at a beautiful Faith that comes to us as a free gift—free for us, but not for God the Father.

We marveled at how, in Christ, God offers us true Bread from Heaven and then gives us the freedom to ignore or reject it. We shared with each other that just as Jacob wrestled with the angel at Peniel [Genesis 32:22 et seq.], so we too had often wrestled with God in trying to understand Him, His power, His love, and his forgiveness.

For Rick, that struggle is over. Eternal peace is his. For me—and you—it continues, day by day. Our world gives us many choices. We can choose them. Or we can choose Christ. “Lord, to whom can we go? You have the words of eternal life.”