Metropolitan Tabernacle Pulpit · Sermon No. 1112
“And Jesus said unto them, I am the bread of life: he that comes to Me shall never hunger; and he that believes on Me shall never thirst.” John 6:35.
OUR Savior used expressions concerning Himself which might be turned to another meaning than He intended. He did not guard His words by saying, “I am like bread, and faith is like eating and drinking,” but He said, “I am the bread of life,” and, “except a man eat My flesh and drink My blood there is no life in him.” He did this not only because from His own sincerity of heart it was not in Him to be forever fencing around all His speeches, but also with a set purpose, because His speech was so plain that if any man misunderstood Him it would be the result of his own perversity of mind and not the effect of any obscurity in the Lord’s language. Thus by fixing a low and sensual meaning upon elevated spiritual language the men of His time would be discovered to be none of the Lord’s chosen—and the thoughts of many hearts would be revealed.
While He was preaching, His words were like a refiner’s fire, bringing out the pure metal, but separating it from the dross and making that dross to appear the worthless thing which it really was. It would clearly appear that men hated the light when they perverted the clearest expressions of the Lord of Light into foolishness or mystery. Our Lord’s mission was not so much to save all whom He addressed as to save out of them as many as His Father gave Him. And He used His mode of speaking as a test—those who were His understood Him. Those who were not His and were not taught of the Father, viciously put a literal meaning upon His spiritual words and so missed His Divine teaching. To this day the memorable expressions of our Lord in this chapter remain a stumbling block to some, while they are full of glorious instruction to others!
We see the world every day parting more and more definitely into two camps—the camp of the chosen of God, to whom is made known the mystery of the kingdom, the babes in Grace who read the simple teaching of the Gospel and rejoice in it—and on the other side the carnal host who hear the Word, but look no deeper than its outward letter, to whom it becomes a “savor of death unto death,” because they pervert the Lord’s spiritual Word to a carnal meaning and straightway heap unto themselves abounding ceremonies and pierce themselves through with deadly errors. I scarcely think that the prominence of Sacramentarianism nowadays is to be altogether regretted—it is only a more clear and manifest severing of the precious from the vile.
There is a division as marked as between death and life, and as deep as Hell, between the spiritual Church which believes in Jesus and the carnal Church which believes in sacraments—between the regenerate who look to Christ upon the Cross—and the twice dead who believe in a piece of bread and pay reverence to a wine cup. The Savior spoke in symbols, that the proud might hear in vain—that hearing they might not hear and seeing they might not perceive— executing upon that self-conceited generation which rejected Him the judicial sentence of the Lord, for their hearts were waxen gross, their ears were dull of hearing and their eyes had they closed.
But now, speaking to those to whom the Lord has given to understand His meaning, let me say our Savior uses very simple figures. Think of His calling Himself bread! How condescending, that the most common article upon the table should be the fullest type of Christ! Think of His calling our faith an eating and a drinking of Himself! Nothing could be more instructive! At the same time nothing could better set forth His gentleness and humility of spirit that He does not object to speak thus of our receiving Him. God be thanked for the simplicity of the Gospel! The longer I live the more I bless God that we have not received a classical Gospel, or a mathematical Gospel, or a metaphysical Gospel! It is not a Gospel confined to scholars and men of genius, but a poor man’s Gospel, a plowman’s Gospel—and that is the kind of Gospel which we can live upon and die upon.
It is to us not the luxury of refinement, but the staple food of life. We need no fine words when the heart is heavy, neither do we need deep problems when we are lying upon the verge of eternity, weak in body and tempted in mind. At such times we magnify the blessed simplicity of the Gospel! Jesus in the flesh made manifest becomes our soul’s bread. Jesus bleeding on the Cross, a Substitute for sinners, is our soul’s drink. This is the Gospel for babes—and strong men need no more.
Again, it strikes me as being very noteworthy, and especially very worthy of thanks, that our Savior has taken metaphors of a very common character so that if our hearts are but right we cannot go anywhere but what we are reminded of Him. At our tables we are very apt to forget the best things. The indulgence of the appetite is not very promotive of spirituality, yet we cannot sit down to table but what the piece of bread speaks to us and says, “Poor Soul, you need even bread to be given you. You are so needy that your bread must be the gift of heavenly charity. Jesus has come down from Heaven to keep you from absolute starvation. He has come down to be bread and water to you.” As you take up that loaf and think of the processes through which it has passed before it has become bread, it preaches a thousand sermons to you!