Chapter XI · The Upper Room — J. C. Ryle
— John 6:681
“Then Simon Peter answered Him, Lord, to whom shall we go? Thou hast the words of eternal life.”—John 6:68.
THE chapter containing the text which heads this page, is singularly rich in matter.
It begins, we must remember, with that well-known miracle, the feeding of five thousand men with five loaves and two fishes,—a miracle which some early writers call the greatest which Christ ever worked,—the only miracle which all the four Evangelists alike record,—a miracle which exhibited creative power.
It goes on to show us another miracle of hardly less striking character, the walking of Christ on the waters of the sea of Galilee,—a miracle which exhibited our Lord’s power, when He thought fit, to suspend the so-called laws of nature. It was as easy for Him to walk on the water as it had been to create land and sea at the beginning.
The chapter then carries us on to that wonderful discourse in the synagogue of Capernaum, which St. John alone, of all the four Gospel writers, was inspired to give to the world. Christ, the true bread of life,—the privileges of all who come to Him and believe,—the deep mystery of Mary’s, in the year 1880. It is now published with some omissions and alterations eating Christ’s flesh and drinking Christ’s blood, and the life which that flesh and blood convey,—what a wealth of precious truth lies here! How great the debt which the Church owes to the fourth Gospel!
And, finally, as the chapter draws to a close, we have the noble outburst of the warm-hearted Apostle St. Peter,—“Lord, to whom shall we go? Thou hast the words of eternal life.” In this remarkable verse there are three points to which I now propose to invite the attention of all into whose hands this paper may fall.
I. In the first place, I ask you to observe the occasion of these words being spoken. What made this fiery, impulsive disciple cry out, “To whom shall we go?” The verses which precede our text supply an answer. “From that time many went back, and walked no more with Him. Then said Jesus to the twelve, Will ye also go away?”
There you have recorded a melancholy and most instructive fact. Even from Christ Himself, who “spake as never man spake,” and did works of matchless power, and lived as no one ever lived, holy, harmless, undefiled, and separate from sinners, even from Christ many, after following Him for a time, went away. Yes! many, not a few, many in the noontide blaze of miracles and sermons, such as earth had never seen or heard before, many turned away from Christ, left Him, deserted Him, gave up His blessed service, and went back,—some to Judaism, some to the world, and some, we may fear, to their sins. “If they did these things in a green tree, what may we expect in a dry?” If men could forsake Christ, we have no right to be surprised if His erring, weak ministers are forsaken also in these last days.
But why did these men go back? Some of them, probably, went back because they had not counted the cost, and “when tribulation or persecution arose because of the word” they were offended. Some of them went back because they had totally misunderstood the nature of our Lord’s kingdom, and had dreamed only of temporal advantages and rewards. Most of them, however, it is very clear, went back because they could not receive the deep doctrine which had just been proclaimed,—I mean the doctrine that “eating Christ’s flesh and drinking Christ’s blood” are absolutely necessary to salvation. It is the old story. As it was in the beginning, so it will be to the end. There is nothing which the dark, natural heart of man dislikes so much as the so-called “blood theology.” Cain turned away in his proud ignorance from the idea of vicarious sacrifice, and the Jews who fell away from our Lord, “went back” when they heard that they must “eat the flesh and drink the blood” of the Son of man.
But there is no denying the fact that these Jews who “went back” have never been without followers and imitators. Their succession, at any rate, has never ceased. Millions in every age have been admitted into the Church by baptism, and begun life as professing Christians, and then, on coming to man’s estate, have turned their back altogether on Christ and Christianity. Instead of “continuing Christ’s faithful soldiers and servants,” they have become servants of sin, the world, and unbelief. The defection is continually going on: it is an old disease, and must not surprise us. The heart is always deceitful and desperately wicked; the devil is always busy, and seeking whom he may devour; the world is always ensnaring; the way of life is narrow, the enemies many, the friends few, the difficulties great, the cross heavy, the doctrine of the gospel offensive to the natural man. What thoughtful person need wonder that multitudes in every age go back from Christ? They are brought within the outward fold of the Church in childhood, and then, on coming to manhood, they throw off all religion, and perish miserably in the wilderness.