Jesus replied, “I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never be hungry again. Whoever believes in me will never be thirsty. –John 6:35, NLT
“I am the bread that came down from heaven”, he said. Wasn’t he the son of a poor carpenter on the outskirts of a poor town? Isn’t his mother that lady that has a cousin married to a prophet? They could never wrap the idea that God would live with them, dwell within them, eat the same food and drink the same drinks they enjoyed every day. He’s a drunkard, some muttered shamelessly. Maybe he’s a bored philosopher seeking attention, we’re all sons of God, others asked––the only ones, in fact! There was muttering and confusion within the crowd who could never understand the weight of his words.
They came here for bread. Some bread makers wanted to hire him because whatever bread he made was perfect, flaky, healthy, and nutritious. And now, this same guy is calling them to drink his flesh!? Is he possessed, or is he simply crazy? This attitude of putting on airs would never work in business! So much for a revolutionary kingdom that would stave off Ceasar’s power! They didn’t even like Herod, for their sake, but would they put off with a cannibal for a general?
The crowd suddenly dispersed in confusion, forgetting this man ever existed. Only his disciples, his closest friends, remained––and they, too, were flabbergasted at such cold response. The words their Master was saying––did they have any weight?
Who wants that bread?