Bread from Heaven (John 6:15–35) — A Sermon by R.C. Sproul

SPROUL: Our Scripture this morning is once  again from the sixth chapter of the gospel   according to St. John, and it is published in the  bulletin that we are to begin at verse twenty-two,   but I’m going to preempt that and begin earlier at  verse fifteen and then read through verse forty. “Therefore, when Jesus perceived that they were  about to come and take Him by force to make Him   king, He departed again to the mountains  by Himself – alone. And when evening came,   His disciples went down to the sea, got into the  boat, and went over the sea toward Capernaum;   and it was already dark, and Jesus had not  come to them. Then the sea arose because a   great wind was blowing, and when they had  rowed about three or four miles they saw   Jesus walking on the sea and drawing near the  boat; and they were afraid. But He said to them,   ‘It is I. Do not be afraid.’ And then  they willingly received Him into the boat,   and immediately the boat was at  the land where they were going.

“And on the following day when the people who  were standing on the other side of the sea saw   that there was no other boat there except  the one which His disciples had entered and   that Jesus had not entered the boat with  His disciples, but that His disciples had   gone away alone. However other boats came from  Tiberius near the place where they ate bread   after the Lord had given thanks, and when the  people therefore saw that Jesus was not there,   nor His disciples, they also got into the  boats and came to Capernaum, seeking Jesus. And when they found Him, on the other side of  the sea, they said to Him, ‘Rabbi, when did you   come here?’ Jesus answered and said to them,  ‘Most assuredly I say to you, you seek me not   because you saw the signs but because you ate of  the loaves and were filled. Do not labor for the   food that perishes but for the food that endures  to everlasting life, which the Son of Man will   give you because God the Father has set His seal  on Him.’ Then they said to Him, ‘What shall we do   that we may work the works of God?’ Jesus answered  and said, ‘This is the work of God: that you   believe in Him whom He sent,’ and therefore they  said to Him, ‘What sign will you perform then that  

we may see it and believe you? What work will you  do? Our fathers ate the manna in the desert. As   it is written, “He gave them bread from heaven to  eat.”’ And Jesus said to them, ‘Most assuredly I   say to you, Moses did not give you the bread from  heaven, but my Father gives you the true bread   from heaven. For the bread of God is He, who comes  down from heaven and gives life to the world.’   Then they said to Him, ‘Lord, give us that bread  always.’ And He said to them, ‘I am the bread   of life. He who comes to me shall never hunger,  and he who believes in me shall never thirst.’” I’m going to stop at that point,  finish the text God-willing next week;   but we’ll stop there, and so  you may be seated for now.

One of the reasons why we take vows as we did  this morning upon joining the church is because   sometimes we have to buttress our promises with  sacred commitments because as fallen creatures   we are by nature covenant breakers, and we are  taught by the Word of God that all men are liars.   There’s no exception to that, and so I have to  confess to you this morning that when we started   this study of John’s gospel I said to you I  would not be looking at every verse of this   gospel but would be covering the highlights, and  I lied. I realized this week that I had intended   to pass over this brief passage that records  the miracle of Christ of walking on the water,   and I just couldn’t do it. I couldn’t  just leave that out. It’s too important   to the whole gospel. It’s too important to our  understanding of the person and work of Jesus,   and it’s also very important to the continuity of  what’s going on here in this extremely important   chapter six. And so after having confessed my sin  and asked for your forgiveness and indulgence,   I’m going to start this morning at verse  fifteen instead of at verse twenty-two.

We read that when Jesus perceived that they were  about to come and take Him by force to make Him   king – they weren’t interested in electing  Him or even drafting Him, but they wanted to   compel Him to be their king. When Jesus noticed  this and understood what they were about to do,   He left the congregation. He left the multitude  and sought solitude in a private place. Now we   read the foreboding words in verse sixteen,  “Now when evening came, His disciples went   down to the sea, got into the boat, and went over  the sea toward Capernaum.” Now notice that when   John gives us the brief description of the scene  that he’s describing here, he says this: that,   “It was already dark and Jesus had not come  to them. Then the sea arose because a great   wind came, and they had rowed three of four  miles when they saw Jesus walking on the sea.

Now one of the things that we notice in the  structure of John’s gospel is how alert John   is to major themes and passages of Old  Testament redemptive history. Even this   bread of life discourse that he’s introducing  at this point hearkens back to the feeding of   the people in the wilderness experience by  the manna that God provided from heaven.   But if we remember back to our very first  lesson from John’s gospel, to the prologue,   we remember how the words of this gospel began by  saying, “In the beginning was the Word; and the   Word was with God, and the Word was God,” and how  when we looked at the beginning of this gospel,   one couldn’t miss the obvious connection to  the opening words of the Old Testament where we   read there, in Genesis 1:1, “In the beginning God  created the heavens and the earth.” Then in verse   two of Genesis one, we read a description of the  yet unordered, unfinished work of divine creation,   where we read that the earth was without form and  void, and darkness was on the face of the deep.

I mentioned previously that in Hebrew poetry the  most negative image ever used by the Hebrew poet   is the image of the sea because the sea is the  figure of violence. The sea is the figure of that,   which is ominous, that which threatens  destruction; and not only was that true   of the ocean, but it was also true of the Sea of  Galilee that was given to such wild outbreaks of   violence because it was six hundred feet below  sea-level, and was situated as it were, in the   middle of a wind tunnel where the winds would  come off the Mediterranean, or off the mountains,   and instantly, without warning stir up violence  in the sea. We see that in the other passage when   Jesus was in the boat when such a storm arose,  and Jesus was called upon to calm the storm;   but it’s that same body of water that we find now  in this passage, and we are told that it was dark,   and the waters were raging – high waves, not  a calm, placid pond that Jesus tiptoes gently   across the water. But as these seasoned veterans  of this lake, these professional fisherman are  

pulling at their oars to get across the lake –  which isn’t that far across. They go three to four   miles against this wind in this violent, choppy  water, and they’re making little or no progress. All of a sudden they see Jesus approaching  them, without the benefit of a boat,   but walking – striding – in the darkness over the  chaotic, frothing of this boiling sea – just as   in creation God looked at the darkness, the  emptiness, and said, “Let there be light,”   and we are told in the beginning of John’s gospel  that the incarnate Son is the one through whom   creation came to pass – that it was the Logos of  John one, who created all things. And John said,   “Nothing was made except by Him” – that the Christ  of the New Testament is the God of creation,   and His divine nature is masked and hidden by  his human veil. But there are these moments when  

the deity bursts through that veil and becomes  obvious and manifest to anybody who’s watching,   and that’s what happens when this one, who is  cloaked in mortality and veiled in humanity does   what no human being could possibly do. He strides  across the sea, and the waters support Him; and   the waters obey Him; and the darkness, that seeks  to engulf His disciples, has no power over Him. Think for a moment how you would have felt if  you were in that boat with the waves crashing   against the gunnels, and the oars straining  to bring inches of progress, and you look up,   and here comes the master, who made the sea, who  owns the sea, who rules the sea – now walks across   the sea towards you. The same reaction they had on  the other occasion when He calmed the storm on the   same sea. Instead of being relieved and throwing  their sou’westers in the air and saying, “Are  

we glad to see you!” they’re terrified, and so  would you be if you watched somebody walk across   an angry sea without sinking. But Jesus said to  them in their terror, “It is I. Do not be afraid.” In recent weeks I completed a series of messages  for the radio called “The ‘I AMs’ of Jesus,”   all taken from the gospel according to St. John –  those famous statements where Jesus declares such   things as, “I am the way, the truth, and the  life.” “I am the vine; you are the branches.”   “I am the good shepherd.” “I am the door through  which men must enter.” “I am the bread of life,”   and so on. Those “I AMs” – “Before Abraham was,  I AM” – all have the characteristic of Jesus   prefacing these descriptions of His own office by  the strange combination of Greek words, ego eimi,   and the word “ego” in Greek means “I am.” We get  the word “ego” from it. But they have another verb   “to be,” which is the word “eimi,” and what “eimi”  means is “I am.” So if you put them together,  

ego eimi, literally what they’re saying is  “I am, I am,” as if one were stuttering.   But also when we look at the Greek  translation of the Old Testament,   the way Hebrew scholars communicated the  ineffable name of God Yahweh into the Greek   language was by this strange construction ego  eimi, which can be translated “I am who I am.” And therefore when Jesus says, “I am the  door,” “I am the bread of life,” almost   every commentator recognizes here that He’s using  the divine name for Himself; but when the scholars   break out of the gospel of John the “I AMs” of  Jesus, they don’t include this statement here,   where He says, “Don’t be afraid. It is I.” I’m not  sure why because it’s exactly the same structure,   and it’s exactly the same meaning – because  here they are watching Jesus walking on the   water. They’re terrified. He said, “Don’t be  afraid. Ego eimi – I am. I who am is here.”

Now whether the next sentence communicates  a second miracle is somewhat ambiguous in   the text because they said after Jesus  announces that it’s He in this manner,   then they willingly received Him into the  boat; and immediately the boat was at the   land where they were going, which suggests  that when He entered the boat that was the   end of the sea’s resistance to the efforts of  His disciples to gain headway into the wind   and into the water. By His mere presence, the  boat immediately came safely to the other shore. You know there’s an illustration there. I don’t  want to be maudlin, but ladies and gentlemen,   this is the way our lives are. This is not  intended to be a parable in the text. This   is historical narrative, not an illustration of  what happens when Jesus comes into your life,   but it certainly illustrates what happens when  you come into your life. Your life is a time of   pulling against the oars, against resistance  trying to get somewhere. You’re not getting   anywhere, you’re about to be engulfed, and as  soon as Jesus gets in the boat, you’re home free.   And that’s what happens when Christ comes  into the life of His people. He gets us  

through the darkness. He gets us through the  violence. He carries us through the storm. Well as I say, this is a transition from the  miracle of the feeding of the five thousand, which   was witnessed by thousands and thousands of  people, and now a miracle that is witnessed only   by His disciples. However, it doesn’t go unnoticed  by the clamoring multitude. As we read in verse   twenty-two, “On the following day, when the people  who were standing on the other side of the sea saw   that there was no other boat there except the ones  that the disciples had entered, and they noticed   the night before that Jesus had not entered that  boat but His disciples had gone away without Him.   And yet all these other people went around the  lake and wanted to be where Jesus was, and they   came to Capernaum seeking Jesus. And when they  found Him on the other side of the sea they said   to Him, “Rabbi, when did you come here?” which  was really like saying, “How did you get here?” Now Jesus doesn’t give the answer I wish so much  He would have given. I wish when they said, “How   did you get here,” I would love to have had Him  say to these people, “I walked,” and watch their  

reaction. But that’s not what He did. But again,  He knows what’s on their mind and what they’re   looking for; and He says to them, “I say to you,  you seek me not because you saw the signs.” He   ignores their question. He does this all the time.  “Most assuredly” – you know, “Why did you” – “When   did you come here?” He says,  “Never mind. I say to you,   you seek me not because you saw the signs but  because you ate of the loaves and were filled.” Now on the one hand, they did seek Him because  they saw the signs, but they didn’t see the   significance of the signs. That’s what Jesus is  saying. “You saw the miracle, you enjoyed the   benefit of the miracle, and so you’ve been chasing  after me to make me your king because I filled   your bellies. But will you want me to be your king  when you see the baptism with which I am baptized?   You want to enter into the feast, but do you want  to enter into my sufferings? Do you want to pick   up my cross and follow me?” Jesus is saying these  are fair-weather fans that are following Him.

And then He said, “Do not labor for the food  that perishes but for the food that endures to   everlasting life, which the Son of Man will give  you because the Father has set His seal upon Him.”   Let me – this is as far as I’m going to go with  this text, but I’m not going to stop until I look   at this part of the text. “Don’t labor for  the food that perishes.” How many times do I   hear people say, “Well what are you doing with  your life?” “Well I have a job.” “Is that your   vocation? Is that what you want to do?” “Well,  no. I’m just trying to put food on the table.”   What an empty life, when our labor and our  sweat and our toil is done simply so that we   can put food on the table. Sometimes it’s  necessary to do that, don’t get me wrong,   because we are called – we have the responsibility  to feed our families, and if we can’t get work   anywhere else, we’re going to have to go  out and do what’s not our vocation just to   make sure we get the food on the table. But  that is frustrating, ladies and gentlemen,   because that food perishes. You set the table  one night, you eat the dinner – that’s cool,   but tomorrow you have to set the table again,  and you have to get more food because every   helping that you enjoy perishes. Jesus said,  “Don’t spend your life pursuing that sort  

of thing. Don’t spend your life pursuing  that which has no ultimate significance.” I think about this every day. I see my friends who  aren’t Christians, and I see them get up in the   morning, get dressed, go to work, go through the  anguishes and the struggles that daily life brings   to them, and I’m saying, “Why are they doing  this?” And one morning they wake up, they’re   sixty-five or they’re seventy, and they’re saying,  “Why did I do that? Is that all there is?” It’s   not all there is. There is so much more than the  food that perishes. Jesus says, “Seek that which   is eternal. Invest in that which doesn’t perish.  Store up for yourselves treasures in heaven where   there aren’t any moths, and there’s no rust, and  there’s no thieves that come in to steal it.” Have you ever asked yourself that question? What  are you doing with your life? Why are you living   the way you’re living? What is it that you’re  trying to accomplish? What is it you hope to gain?   Have you not heard that he who gains the whole  world and loses his own soul has no profit?  

“Don’t labor for the food that perishes, but  for the food that endures to everlasting life,   which the Son of Man will give you.” Why?  Because God the Father has set His seal on Him. Now I’ve talked about that word before. Every  time we have a baptism I mention that the baptism,   the sacrament is not magic, doesn’t convert  anybody, but it is God’s sign and God’s seal of   His promise of redemption for all who believe.  Some people say, “Well what good is that?” Have you seen the old Robin Hood movies  and medieval movies where, you know,   the king sends his henchmen out into  the town square, and they take a hammer,   and they pound up a “wanted” sign of Robin  Hood and a reward five hundred ducats or   whatever for whoever gives information  to the capture of this bandit. And then   you’ll see at the bottom of this edict  a place where there’s a wax inscription,   and the purpose of that wax inscription is  to bear the image of the royal signet ring.

How do you know it’s not the village blacksmith  that hung up this reward? By the signet ring that   bears the seal of the king, that authenticates  that the message carries the authority of the   king, and this is what Jesus is saying about  this eternal, everlasting bread, the bread that   doesn’t perish. He said, “I, the Son of Man,  will give you this bread because the Father   has put His seal upon me. He has authenticated  by these miracles, that I have come from Him,   and I speak nothing on my own authority, but He  has given to me all authority on heaven and earth,   and I have the authority now to give eternal life  to you.” He can do it. He’s authorized to do it,   so seek Him, for He is the one whom God  has sealed to be your eternal provider.

Let’s pray. Father, when we try to walk  on dry land we stumble. We fall. We trip   over ourselves as we rush in hot pursuit  of those things that perish, but Father,   by Thy Spirit turn our eyes upon the one who  made the waters, one who walks upon the water,   the one whom Thou hast given the divine  seal of your approval, thereby authorized   to provide for us that bread that does not  perish. For we ask it in His name, amen.