560: To Whom Shall We Go? | Tim Henderson

Good news for you today—we're gonna complete our 12-part series on John 6. We have been here forever. We're gonna be at the very last paragraph of John 6. And before we start looking at the actual text, I wanna invite you to listen with me to a three-minute clip from The Silver Chair, which is part of the Chronicles of Narnia.

Crying is alright in its way while it lasts. But you have to stop sooner or later and then you still have to decide what to do.

When Jill stopped, she found she was dreadfully thirsty. She'd been lying face downward, but now she sat up. She listened carefully and felt almost sure she heard the sound of running water. There was no sign of the lion, though there were so many trees it might easily be quite close without her seeing it. But her thirst was very bad now, and she plucked up the courage to go and look for that running water. She went on tiptoes, stealing cautiously from tree to tree and stopping to look around her at every step.

Jill eventually came to an open glade and saw the stream, bright as glass, running across the turf a stone's throw away from her. But although the sight of the water made her feel ten times thirstier than before, she didn't rush forward and drink. She stood as still as if she'd been turned into stone with her mouth wide open, and she had a very good reason. Just on this side of the stream lay the lion with its head raised and its two forepaws out in front of it.

She knew at once that it had seen her, for its eyes looked straight into hers for a moment and then turned away as if it knew her quite well and didn't think much of her.

If you're thirsty, you may drink.

What? If you're thirsty, come and drink. Are you not thirsty?

I'm dying of thirst.

Then drink.

May I? Could I? Would you mind going away while I do?

Alright. Do you promise not to do anything to me if I do come?

I make no promise.

Then oh, dear. I mean, I'm so thirsty, you see. And do you eat girls?

Oh, I've swallowed up girls and boys, women and men, kings and emperors, cities and realms.

I daren't come and drink.

Then you will die of thirst.

Oh, dear. I suppose I must go and look for another stream then.

There is no other stream.

For the last couple weeks, Sloop and I have been walking you through this major passage—this movement in John 6 in which Jesus makes the pretty audacious claim that he is the bread of life. When we did, I talked about the complaints that the Jews had about his claims, and then Dave talked about the consequences that flow into our lives because it's all true.

Our passage this week continues on that discourse, and it will be, as I said, our final time in John 6. But this passage is of a different nature. A more painful nature. And I'm sorry to say, a more relevant nature than the previous two weeks.

By this time in John's gospel, we are probably accustomed to the fact that there is a constant opposition from the unbelieving Jews to whom Jesus has shown kindness and from whom he has experienced near constant rejection. But this passage is not about them. This passage is about us. It is about—and I quote—the disciples. And the painful part is some of those disciples no longer want to follow Jesus.

Now, I hope that you're joining us for our 10 AM class. We call it Foundations. It's a large group study that Sloop and I are doing. And two weeks ago in that class we looked at 1 John—the entirety of 1 John. It's another letter in the New Testament written by the same author as the gospel of John. And it was written to give assurance of salvation to those who have given their lives to Christ, to those who are hidden in him and whose lives show the evidence that it is working—that the gospel is changing us.

And when we talked about that, I teased this passage because I knew we were just a couple weeks away from it. And I asked the class: How many of you know somebody who you used to think they were genuinely following Jesus, and now you perceive that they are not? And nearly every hand in the room went up.

This is a thorny issue. And when I was younger, when I was coming to faith, I came of age in faith in an unreasonably rich theological environment. I look back and just see the mercy of God to put me in such a nourishing context. And I learned so many things. So many foundational doctrines were kind of built into my life in my early days as a college student. And the eternal security of the believer is one of those things that was formed in me as I learned to read the scriptures.

And if you'd asked me then—and if you ask me today—if a believer can lose their salvation, I would have said then, and I still would say today, that the answer is no. If you are saved, then you are safe and you are secure in him.

But if I'm being honest, there may not be another doctrine to which I still hold that has been more sorely tested than this one. Can we walk away from him? Might we? If no one can snatch us out of the Father's hand?

If the father who has given us to Jesus is greater than all, and if no one can snatch us out of the father's hand, then what are we to make of the legions who once professed faith but do so no longer? And more intimately than that, could I, would I ever make the terrible and faithful choice to walk away from him? That grievous action of abandoning Jesus is what this passage is about.

The Hard Teaching

So let's take a look at it again. The context of this passage, as you may recall, is Jesus' discourse about being the bread of life.

On hearing it, many of his disciples said, "This is a hard teaching. Who can accept it?" Aware that his disciples were grumbling about this, Jesus said to them, "Does this offend you? What if you see the son of man ascend to where he was before? The spirit gives life. The flesh counts for nothing. The words I have spoken to you are spirit and they are life. Yet there are some of you who do not believe. For Jesus had known from the beginning which of them did not believe and who would betray him. He went on to say, 'This is why I told you that no one can come to me unless the father has enabled him.' From this time, many of his disciples turned back and no longer followed him. 'You do not want to leave too, do you?' Jesus asked the 12. And Simon Peter answered him, 'Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life. We believe and know that you are the holy one of God.'" — John 6:60-69

So let's look at several things closely here. First of all, it was the disciples who said, "This is a hard teaching." Now, very often in John's gospel when he talks about the disciples, he's talking about the 12—the named characters that you would recognize. Right. Peter, James, and John, Andrew, and who else? Matthew, Thomas, Bartholomew. We all think about Bartholomew, I'm sure. There's the group that we know.

But sometimes John uses the term "the disciples" in reference to the broader crowd—the hundreds that would follow him and listen to his teaching. In this instance, it's not the 12 he's talking about. It's the big group. It's the group that's honestly more like us. We know this because later on down in verse 67, John is going to refer to the 12 specifically and distinctly from this group. So these guys aren't the 12, but they are still disciples. And they are like us. For we ourselves are not of the 12. We are of this broader mass of humanity that has decided to follow Jesus. And among us, from our group, some began to grow shaky. Not only did they grow shaky, but down in verse 66, some of the disciples actually walk away.

From this time, many of his disciples turned back and no longer followed him. — John 6:66

So the question is: Can someone who has obtained the moniker of disciple walk away? And the answer is yes, apparently. Because not all disciples are true disciples. It says Paul is going to say in Romans, "not all who are descended from Israel are Israel." Meaning not all who are in that community are truly of that community. And as John had said earlier, not all faith is true faith.

I wonder if you remember this ominous little line. It was in John 2:23.

Now while he was in Jerusalem at the Passover feast, many people saw the miraculous signs that he was doing and believed in his name. But Jesus would not entrust himself to them, for he knew all men. — John 2:23

This is a surprising line because belief is the chief virtue in John's gospel. He uses the term over and over again. This is the thing—what the whole book is about. And so when John says they believed in his name, that draws us to cheer and say, "Yes, they believed!" But the very next thing that happens is that Jesus basically says, "Yeah, I don't buy it." And it's startling. It should be startling. Jesus knows men, and he knows that there is such a thing as fickle faith. Jesus will address this actually repeatedly throughout John's gospel. We'll see it again in chapter eight. There's a line you guys might recognize. You probably would recognize the phrase, "You will know the truth and the truth will set you free." Is that familiar to you?

You will know the truth and the truth will set you free. — John 8:32

That's John 8:32. But I'm curious, does anybody know what John 8:31 says? Take a look at it. It goes like this:

To the Jews who had believed him, Jesus said, "If you hold to my teaching, you are really my disciples." — John 8:31

True faith has a persevering quality that sham faith does not. For not all faith is real faith and not all disciples are real disciples. One mark—perhaps the mark of genuine saving faith, of true discipleship—is perseverance.

The Nature of Their Complaint

Second observation. What these shaky disciples claim is that Jesus' teaching is, and I quote, "hard." Now the word for hard here is scleros. And it does not mean hard like complicated. It doesn't mean hard like difficult to understand. It means harsh. It means rough. It means unpleasant. They are not asking for clarity. They are simply complaining.

This is not intellectual. It's emotional. And I want you to just kind of enter in with me and try to imagine what is it that makes this teaching of Jesus not be perplexing but painful to them.

Several possible reasons. Number one, Jesus has been talking about a fundamental reordering of their highest priorities. And I suspect that some of them just did not want life change. They simply wanted free food. They wanted bread bread, not living bread. Jesus up till now had been kicking out some pretty sweet benefits. But now he's just kind of ruining the vibe. And the show is coming to a close for them. And some people just want free stuff.

Others perhaps bristled at his claim that they couldn't believe unless he enabled them. The biblical picture of how salvation works that Sloop talked about last week is humiliating. And if we don't even get to claim credit for being smarter or gooder or in some way superior to the people who don't believe, then where's the fun in that? Right? And for these guys perhaps they just had figured out that grace is lovely and all until you are confronted with the fact that you actually need it. And some people just want Jesus to tell them how great they are.

Number three, others may have just been affronted by Jesus' unparalleled sense of self. If he would merely assert the occasional moral aphorism, make some insightful comments, then fair enough. But just listen to them. I mean my goodness. He talks like he literally thinks he is God's gift to the world. He is better than Moses. He is preexistent. He is our very source of life. I mean seriously Jesus calm down. I just think that they just wondered, do you realize what you're saying? Some people would like Jesus to stay in his box.

And then maybe some, maybe many just could not stomach the cannibalistic metaphor. And they did not think it was worth chewing on to discover the deep meaning. They just wanted a nice, tame Jesus. And you guys, I think those particular laments have resonated with many throughout the centuries. I wonder if any of them resonate with you.

Because if so, when you discover that he is not particularly tame, that no box can contain him, and that the gospel reveals less about how lovely we are and more about how loving he is. And maybe ultimately when we finally figure out that he is not merely the giver of gifts but he is the gift. Then you might be disappointed too. And you might walk away. Because Jesus is not what you fancy him to be. He is what he is.

Jesus' Response

So take a look at Jesus' response to this. I think it's a little puzzling. Here's what happens. In verse 61, aware that his disciples were grumbling about this, Jesus said to them, does this offend you? What if you see the son of man ascend to where he was before? I don't know if you'd realize what this means. Like I said, I don't think it's on the surface. What he is saying is, does this trouble you? Because you have not seen anything yet. It's about to get worse. It's about to get a whole lot worse.

He's saying, time out, time out, time out. If these few words that I have said make you wanna walk away from me, then I've got news for you. Because much more is coming down the pike. I will be lifted up from the earth on a cross. And it is by that humiliating scandal that I will draw all men to myself. It is by that degradation that I will be made king. It is at the completion of my mission to be made king through an accursed cross that I will return to the father from whom I have come. And if you can't handle these few remarks, you are really not gonna like that.

Christians tend to talk about the cross as if it's the greatest thing that has ever happened in the history of the world because it is. But it was also a scandal. Paul said this in first Corinthians one:

Jews demand miraculous signs and Greeks look for wisdom. But we preach Christ crucified, a stumbling block to Jews and foolishness to Gentiles.

Elsewhere in Romans nine Paul ascribes Isaiah eight to Jesus calling him:

A stone that causes men to stumble and a rock that makes them fall.

Peter says the exact same thing in first Peter two. And for all of history people have tripped over Jesus. He's scandalous. In his fundamental nature, just in his nature, he is offensive to people like us. Not only what he says, but overwhelmingly in his cross.

And so in verse 66, many of them do leave. Jesus was not what they thought he was. He was not what they wanted. He was not what they were looking for. They had in their hearts what Isaiah also says:

Tell us pleasant things, prophecy illusions and stop confronting us with the holy one of Israel.

Because I have recently been in a conversation with a dear friend of mine who I discipled when he was a student at Penn State. And he and I share a common friend who was also a student that I discipled at Penn State. And the friend with whom I was speaking and I were lamenting and grieving that the other guy for all intents and purposes has walked away from Jesus.

His faith is seemingly non-existent. And as we were processing through just the pain of this, he's been particularly close friends with this fellow. And I've known him for years. They were both, like I said, leaders in crew. But the one of them, like a coal removed from a fireplace and placed on a hearth, his enthusiasm for Jesus has slowly turned from pink to ashen gray.

And as my friend and I were discussing this and grieving this, he sent me this text. I want to share with you what he said. He said, "I wonder if this felt pain for our beloveds is akin to us identifying with Christ. I'm not sure if I mentioned it at some point, but I've come to appreciate the bitter and impossible tensions without resolution as they point to our only hope. He's only ever been our only hope. But we've so often been fooled into thinking that he's our last remaining hope when all others fade away. They were never able to bear us in the first place."

In my experience, texts rarely hold such wisdom. Do you realize who Jesus is? Who he actually is? And earnestly, may I ask you, is he what you are looking for? He is not a vending machine that dispenses food. He is not a mirror that tells us how fair we are. He is not a toy that you can fit in a box, and he is not a pet that you can tame. He has only ever been our only hope.

And it is in this painful moment that Jesus turns to the twelve, to his inner circle, to his closest friends. And he asks them, well, what about you? Do you want to go away too? And before we look at how they respond to that question, may I pose it to you? Do you want to go away as well?

I don't know if you guys are Ernest Hemingway fans. But some of you perhaps have read them all. In his book The Sun Also Rises, there's a famous little quip that takes place. I wonder if you're familiar with it. There's this moment where one character asks another character how he went bankrupt. His response is relatively well known. How does man go bankrupt? He says two ways. Gradually and then suddenly.

There's a lot of insight packed into those few words. How did you go bankrupt? Two ways. Gradually and then suddenly. Do you know how people walk away from Jesus? Gradually and then suddenly. Nobody plans to go bankrupt. I don't think people plan to walk away from Christ.

But have you begun to forsake the habit of gathering with his people? Have you begun to forsake the habit of spending time in the scriptures? Of seeking his face in prayer, of moving towards other believers, of speaking to him or speaking of him rather, to unbelievers?

Kelly and I were in LA this week. And I had this two-hour-long conversation with the landlord of an Airbnb. It was a fantastic evangelistic conversation. He's a hardened atheist, but it was a rich and a fun conversation. And I walked back into our little apartment thing, and I was so invigorated because the sheer act of engaging with people about Christ helps us to walk with Christ.

Have you forsaken the habit of quickly repenting from your sin? Are you giving yourself permission to just do it again? To just do it again? To just do it again? Friends, people walk away from Christ gradually and then suddenly.

Following Christ Outside the Camp

And what this passage exhorts us is not to do it at all, but to walk with him. To truly follow the crucified Christ necessarily means that you must choose to enter into his shame. You must be willing to be thought a fool. You must love unlovely people. You must despise your rights. And you must, you absolutely must admit your humiliating dependence upon grace.

Hebrews 13 makes an absolutely fascinating observation. The Jewish sacrifices, like when they would kill a sheep—sacrifice—those sacrifices at least had the dignity of being slain inside the temple, of being offered in the most holy place. But it also observes that the bodies were burned outside the camp. The offal, the waste, the guts, the inedible parts were burned outside the camp. Because it was just too gross to do it inside.

Do you know where Jesus was offered as a sacrifice? Was it inside the temple? Or was it outside the city gate? It was outside. His better sanctuary where he offered himself as a better sacrifice was better because it was worse.

I want you to listen to this. I want you to hear the implication for those who would follow him.

The high priest carries the blood of animals into the most holy place as a sin offering. But the bodies are burned outside the camp. And so Jesus also suffered outside the city gate to make the people holy through his own blood. Let us then go to him outside the camp bearing the disgrace he bore. — Hebrews 13:11-13

Friends, if you want to follow him, if you want to truly be his disciple, you will find him outside.

And I hope that you will follow him outside for here is the right answer to the question that Jesus asks in verse 68. The question of course is, to whom shall we go? And Cole, we're just about done. The answer comes:

Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life. — John 6:68

Friends, however costly Jesus is to you in the currency of your self-righteousness, in the currency of your self-conceit, your love of your own autonomy or your pride—do you see that his worth is infinitely greater? To walk away from him would be to walk away from infinite love, total forgiveness, enduring compassion, unchecked intimacy, and the privilege to behold and be approved by the Creator of all things. It is a guarantee to get him and to enjoy him forever.

And as Aslan told Jill in our clip this morning, there is no other stream. Whatever he costs you, he is worth infinitely more. Cling to him. Never let him go. Do not allow yourself to be seduced by lesser things.

Lord Jesus, what could possibly compete with you? The answer is ten thousand bright and shiny things. Lord, our hearts are drawn away to lesser things all the time. And our great hope that we will persevere is really our great hope that you will preserve us. We are prone to wander. We are prone to leave the God that we love.

And our plea to you this morning is that you would take our hearts. You would take and seal them. You would seal them for your courts above. That we would never, ever, ever, ever let you go. That we would deeply hold to these habits that keep you at the center of our hearts. That we would repent quickly. That we would cling to you. That we would keep ever before our face your beauty, your majesty. That we would not be seduced by some siren song that lies and cheats. We would not believe the enemy of our soul when we could instead believe the one who died for us, that we might live forever.

We love you. We praise you. We exalt you. Amen.