whoever believes in me

The Church I used to attend

Have you ever asked—possibly even prayed—“what must I do to do the works God requires?” According to John’s gospel narrative, Jesus has just been teaching the crowd, a crowd containing seekers, agitators, adversaries and friends: a motley crew. I’m not sure how such a crowd can ask a question, but John seems to condense the predominant sentiments in “the crowd” with two questions, actually. The first is, “What do we have to do to please God?” and a second, “What miracles are you going to do to prove that you speak for God?

 John 6:28-35 New International Version (NIV)

28 Then they asked him, “What must we do to do the works God requires?”
29 Jesus answered, “The work of God is this: to.”
30 So they asked him, “What sign then will you give that we may see it and believe you? What will you do? 31 Our ancestors ate the manna in the wilderness; as it is written: ‘He gave them bread from heaven to eat.’”
32 Jesus said to them, “Very truly I tell you, it is not Moses who has given you the bread from heaven, but it is my Father who gives you the true bread from heaven. 33 For the bread of God is the bread that comes down from heaven and gives life to the world.”
34 “Sir,” they said, “always give us this bread.”

35 Then Jesus declared, “I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never go hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty.

His answer—as is so often the case—isn’t really an answer to the question at all. How can “believe in the one he has sent” be thought of as “work?” It suggests to me that God’s expectations of us are not that complicated: exercising confidence in the path Jesus has just taught represents its totality. Isn’t that the essence of what it means to be an active Christian? Isn’t believing in pretty much the same as trusting? And doesn't our behaviour reflect what we trust, have confidence in? And isn’t living in the light of that trust a natural outcome of “having fed on the bread that is Jesus?”

But the crowd doesn’t get what “believing in” really means. They’re stuck on “believing” and “believing” can only be expected if there’s a “proving.” Will Jesus do something like, say, produce manna from heaven like God did for the Children of Israel in the wilderness? If he would—the implication seems to be—then they would believe his claims. And not until. (The irony in citing the manna miracle seems to be lost on them; five-thousand of them have just been fed with a few loaves and fishes!) 

Seems to me we’re living—as the broad Christian community—the legacy of the crowd, and neglecting the “bread of life” legacy. We’re all about “proving” as the cornerstone of faith: proving that homosexuality is wrong or not, proving that baptism isn’t for children, proving that bearing arms is or isn’t justified, proving that the “being born again” formula is the heavenly test. And it’s in the believing or not-believing of such matters that we miss the point: “For the bread of God is the bread that comes down from heaven and gives life to the world.”

The believing/proving paradigm sucks the life out of our world, not what God through Jesus intended. It’s the crowd mentality that has resulted in the unbelievable splitting of “believers” into myriad denominations: those who believe that baptism is just for adults, those who believe that it makes a difference to God whether the Sabbath is Sunday or Saturday, those who can prove that there’s a time when killing (the opposite of “giving life”) is justifiable, etc., etc.

If pressed, I would have to admit that I don’t “believe” that Jesus literally turned barrels of water into wine. but I totally “believe in” the principle it illustrates: that the Jesus-way (bread) can elevate us to heights (life) that is a lot like “water is to wine.” Whether you believe it literally or figuratively is a crowd question; it doesn’t belong in the “believe in me” conversation. 

In everything that matters, we’re probably on the same page.