John 6:47-51

John 6:47-51

Truly, truly, I say to you, whoever believes has eternal life. I am the bread of life.

Your fathers ate the manna in the wilderness, and they died. This is the bread that comes down from heaven,

so that anyone who eats of it may not die. I am the living bread that came down from heaven. If anyone eats

of this bread, they will live forever. And the bread that I will give is my flesh – for the life of the world.

Dear congregation,

When was the first and last time you thought, “I give up!”?

Dear confirmands,  have you even had that thought at your age yet? I hope not. But perhaps you know that feeling: a math test that’s too hard, a test you failed, a project that seems like an insurmountable mountain ahead.

Or maybe a family experience: a move that’s hard to handle, a situation that keeps coming to mind, a conflict that won’t end, or even gets worse.

“How I wish I could just give up!”

When did you, dear church elders, feel that way?

When have the sick felt that way?

When has a politician thought that?

When have people fleeing thought that?

When have the neighbours in Mamelodi thought that?

“I wish I could give up!” People think like this when trust is lost. In situations where worries become overwhelming, where disappointment is too painful, and when it seems like there’s no way forward. Some lose their faith in these moments – their trust. And that is a particularly hard experience. John has Jesus say: “Truly, truly, I say to you, whoever believes has eternal life!”

Yes, that’s it. Those who are given trust can imagine that life will continue, and then they experience it. Those who trust may not understand the meaning of suffering, but they see that life can still be meaningful despite painful experiences.

Our faith, our trust, is and remains a great source of strength, perhaps even the greatest source. Those who are given trust no longer want to give up but want to move mountains. Those who retain trust and faith see beyond – beyond what separates them from happiness, peace, and bliss. Beyond suffering, they see the possibility of new life.

Jesus had this trust in his Creator and also in himself. There is a connection between trust in God and what we believe we are capable of.

In his faith, Jesus recognises his mission, his purpose, his calling. “I am the bread of life!” He certainly does not want to give up when faced with the hungry crowd in front of him. On the contrary, he says: “Let’s find a way to feed them.”

By now, objections arise: It’s not really that simple. No, it’s not simple: neither to maintain trust in times of need, nor to live up to one’s calling. If it were that simple, we would probably already have peace on earth. If it were that simple, no one would suffer hunger. If it were that simple, we would cause each other less pain. Jesus addresses this objection. He reminds them of the Exodus from Egypt. The Jews repeatedly tell this story: the triumph, the joy, and how they managed to get through the desert.

For there, many Jews, newly freed and excited, suddenly felt overwhelmed: “I wish we could just give up!” Again and again, it seemed as though they couldn’t cope with the challenges ahead.

Jesus looks at why this happened: There was enough bread. The manna was there every morning. But trust was missing. Trust in their God.

And for me, this is a description of what many people around the world are experiencing right now: everything is here! Bread, water, wine, and sweets – abundance – and yet it is not enough. Trust is missing. There’s a lack of awareness of what the soul is truly longing for. There’s a lack of relationship with God.

To strengthen this trust, Jesus sees himself as the answer: “I am the bread of life!” By entering into a relationship with him – by allowing his spirit room in our lives – there is a good chance that trust and faith will grow within us.

But like with the right kind of bread, you can’t eat for tomorrow. It doesn’t help if we consume twice as much today – tomorrow, we’ll be hungry again. Trust cannot be preserved: we can only remember when it helped us. The manna in the wilderness spoiled if it was kept. The faith of old becomes stale and lifeless if we try to preserve it: it just doesn’t work. As much as we might wish it could. Every day anew. That is the secret of the prayer for daily bread. Every day, practising trust, justice, and love for others.

At the Lord’s Supper, we remember the strength that comes from sharing the bread and from trust in Jesus Christ. We don’t hold it in our hands, but we can open our hands and hearts, ready to receive: open to new trust. Come to the Lord’s Supper, bring all the experiences in which you most wanted to give up – and then open your hands – empty, ready to receive trust. Jesus is the bread that comes from heaven – especially in difficult times, it can be helpful to direct our inner gaze to heaven and pray: Where does my help come from?

The help that comes is a power that can endure what once seemed unbearable. The help that comes is God’s spirit, which gives us life again, helps us breathe, even when the world seems to stand still. The help that comes are people who give us a piece of bread, speak words of comfort, and stay by our side for part of the journey: That is how life goes on eternally: As long as we maintain trust in God and trust our purpose: to be brothers and sisters to each other.

Come, for everything is ready. Taste and see how good the Lord is.

Amen.