Homily 46 — John 6, verses 41 to 52

“The Jews then grumbled about him, because he said, ‘I am the bread that came down from heaven.’ And they said, ‘Is this not Jesus, the son of Joseph, whose father and mother we know? How is it, then, that he says, “I came down from heaven”?’” [a]

“Their god is their belly, and their glory is in their shame” (Philippians 3, verse 19). So Paul said of certain people, writing to the Philippians. Now that the Jews were of this sort is clear, both from what has gone before and from what they came and said to Christ. For when he gave them bread and filled their bellies, they said that he was a Prophet, and they tried to make him king. But when he taught them about spiritual food and about eternal life, when he led them away from the things of the senses and spoke to them of a resurrection and raised their thoughts to higher things — just when they ought most to have marveled — they grumble and pull away.

And yet, if he was that Prophet, as they had said before, declaring that he was the one of whom Moses had said, “The Lord your God will raise up for you a Prophet from among your brothers, like me; you shall listen to him” (Deuteronomy 18, verse 15), then they ought to have listened to him when he said, “I came down from heaven.” Yet they did not listen; they grumbled. They still respected him, because the miracle of the loaves was recent, and so they did not contradict him openly. But by grumbling they showed their displeasure that he did not give them the meal they wanted. And grumbling they said, “Is this not the son of Joseph?”

From this it is plain that they did not yet know of his strange and marvelous birth. And so they still say that he is the son of Joseph, and they are not rebuked. He does not say to them, “I am not the son of Joseph” — not because he was his son, but because they were not yet able to hear of that marvelous birth. And if they could not bear to hear plainly of his birth according to the flesh, much less could they hear of that birth from above, which is beyond words. If he did not reveal the lower one to them, much less would he entrust the other to them.

It greatly offended them that he was born of a humble and ordinary father. Still he did not reveal the truth to them, so that in removing one cause of offense he would not create another. What, then, did he say when they grumbled?

Verse 44: “No one can come to me unless the Father who sent me draws him.”

The Manichaeans pounce on these words, saying that nothing lies in our own power. Yet the expression shows that we are masters of our own will. Someone says: “If a man comes to him, what need is there of drawing?” But the words do not take away our free will; they show that we greatly need help. And he does not mean someone who comes unwillingly, but someone who enjoys much help. Then he also shows the way in which he draws. So that people will not, once again, form some bodily idea of God, he adds, verse 46: “Not that anyone has seen God, except he who is from God; he has seen the Father.”

Someone says: “How, then, does the Father draw?” The prophet explained this long ago, when he proclaimed it in advance and said, verse 45: “They will all be taught by God” (Isaiah 54, verse 13).

Do you see the dignity of faith — that they will learn this not from men, nor through a man, but from God himself? And to make this statement believable, he referred them to their own prophets. “If, then, ‘all will be taught by God,’ how is it that some will not believe?” Because the words are spoken of the greater number. Besides, the prophecy does not mean absolutely everyone, but everyone who is willing. For the teacher sits ready to give what he has to all, pouring out his teaching for everyone.

Verse 44: “And I will raise him up on the last day.”

The Son’s authority here is no small thing, if the Father leads and he raises up. He does not separate his own work from the Father’s — how could he? — but shows that their power is equal. In that other place, after saying, “The Father who sent me bears witness about me,” he then referred them to the Scriptures, so that they would not pry too curiously into the saying. In the same way here, so that they will not entertain similar suspicions, he refers them to the prophets, whom he quotes constantly and everywhere, to show that he is not opposed to the Father.

Someone says: “But what about those who lived before his time? Were they not taught by God? Why, then, apply the words especially to this time?” Because in the past they learned the things of God through men, but now through the only Son of God and through the Holy Spirit. Then he adds, “Not that anyone has seen the Father, except he who is from God.” He uses this expression here not of the cause, but of the manner of being. For if he had meant it in the first sense, we are all “from God.” And then where would the special and distinct nature of the Son be?

Someone says: “But why did he not put this more clearly?” Because of their weakness. If they were so offended when he said, “I have come down from heaven,” how would they have felt if he had added this?

He calls himself “the bread of life” (verse 48), because he sustains our life, both this one and the one to come; and he says, “Whoever eats of this bread will live forever.” By “bread” he means here either his saving teachings and the faith that is in him, or his own body; for both give strength to the soul. Yet in another place he said, “If anyone hears my word, he will never taste death” (John 8, verse 51), and they were offended. Here they felt no such thing, perhaps because they still respected him on account of the loaves that had been made.

And notice how he distinguishes his bread from the manna, by making them hear what each kind of food leads to. To show that the manna gave them no unusual advantage, he added, verse 49: “Your fathers ate manna in the wilderness, and they died.” Then he puts forward the thing most likely to persuade them: that they had been counted worthy of greater things than their fathers — meaning those marvelous men who lived in the time of Moses. And so, after saying that those who ate the manna died, he adds, verse 51: “Whoever eats of this bread will live forever.” [g]

Nor did he put in “in the wilderness” without reason. He did it to point out that the supply of manna did not last a long time and did not go with them into the promised land. But this bread was not of that kind.

“And the bread that I will give is my flesh, which I will give for the life of the world.”

Here one might reasonably ask how this was a fitting time for these words. They did not build anyone up or do any good; instead they did harm to those who had been built up. For “from that time,” says the evangelist, “many of his disciples went back,” saying, “This is a hard saying; who can listen to it?” (verse 60). These things could have been entrusted to the disciples alone, as Matthew has told us that he explained things to them privately (Mark 4, verse 34; see Matthew 13, verse 36). What, then, shall we say? What is the use of the words?

Their use and their necessity are great. The people were pressing him, asking for bodily food, reminding him of the food provided in the days of their forefathers, and speaking of the manna as a great thing. So, to show them that all those things were only a type and a shadow, and that the very reality was now present with them, he speaks of spiritual food. Someone says: “But he ought to have said, ‘Your fathers ate manna in the wilderness, but I have given you bread.’” But the difference between the two miracles was great, and the second would have seemed inferior to the first, because the manna came down from heaven, while this one, the miracle of the loaves, was done on earth. So when they were looking for food “coming down from heaven,” he kept telling them, “I came down from heaven.”

And if anyone asks why he brought in the teaching about the mysteries, we will answer that this was a very fitting time for such teaching. For when what is said is not fully clear, it always rouses the hearer and makes him more attentive. So they ought not to have been offended, but rather to have asked questions and inquired. But as it was, they went back. If they believed him to be a Prophet, they ought to have believed his words. So the offense was caused by their own folly, not by any difficulty in the words. And notice how little by little he led them up to himself. Here he says that he himself gives, not the Father: “The bread that I will give is my flesh, which I will give for the life of the world.”

Someone says: “But this teaching was strange and unfamiliar to them.” And yet John had hinted at it earlier by calling him “Lamb” (John 1, verse 29). “But even so, they did not understand it.” I know they did not. Why, not even the disciples understood. For if they did not yet have a clear knowledge of the resurrection, and so did not know what “Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up” (John 2, verse 19) might mean, much less would they understand what is said here, for these words were less clear than those. They knew that prophets had raised people from the dead, even if the Scriptures do not speak so clearly on that subject; but not one of them had ever said that anyone had eaten flesh. Still, the disciples obeyed and followed him, and confessed that he had the words of eternal life. For this is a disciple’s part: not to pry too curiously into his teacher’s statements, but to listen and obey, and to wait for the right time for any difficulties to be resolved.

Someone says: “How was it, then, that the opposite happened, and these men ‘went back’?” It was because of their folly. When the question “how?” comes in, unbelief comes in with it. That is how Nicodemus was thrown into confusion, saying, “How can a man enter his mother’s womb?” And that is how these men too are confused, saying, verse 52: “How can this man give us his flesh to eat?”

If you want to know the “how,” why did you not ask this in the matter of the loaves — how he stretched five loaves to feed so many? Because then they thought only of being filled, not of seeing the miracle. Someone says: “But their experience then taught them.” Then because of that experience these words ought to have been readily accepted. For this is why he did that strange miracle beforehand: so that, taught by it, they would no longer disbelieve what he would say afterward.

Those men at that time gained no fruit from what was said, but we have enjoyed the benefit in the realities themselves. So we must understand the wonder of the mysteries: what it is, why it was given, and what good the act does. We become one body, and “members of his flesh and of his bones” (Ephesians 5, verse 30). Let the initiated follow what I am saying. [m]

So, in order that we may become this not by love only but in very fact, let us be blended into that flesh. This happens through the food he has freely given us, because he wanted to show the love he has for us. That is why he has mixed himself with us; he has kneaded his body together with ours, so that we might be one single thing, like a body joined to a head. For this is what those who love intensely do. Job hinted at this, for instance, when he spoke of his servants, who loved him so much that they longed to cling to his flesh. To show the strong love they felt, they said, “Who would let us be filled with his flesh?” (Job 31, verse 31).

That is what Christ too has done, to lead us into a closer friendship and to show his love for us. To those who long for him he has given not only to see him, but even to touch him, and eat him, and sink their teeth into his flesh, and embrace him, and satisfy all their love. So let us come back from that table like lions breathing fire, made terrifying to the devil, thinking of our Head and of the love he has shown us.

Parents often hand their children over to others to feed. But he says: “I do not do so. I feed you with my own flesh, because I want you all to be nobly born, and I hold out good hopes to you for the future. For the one who gives himself to you here will do so much more hereafter. I have chosen to become your brother. For your sake I shared in flesh and blood, and in turn I give you the flesh and the blood through which I became your kinsman.”

This blood keeps the image of our King fresh within us. It produces a beauty beyond words, and does not let the nobility of our souls waste away, but waters it continually and nourishes it. The blood that comes from our food does not become blood at once, but something else. This blood does not work that way; it waters our souls at once and works some mighty power in them. This blood, if rightly received, drives demons away and keeps them far from us, while it calls to us angels and the Lord of angels. For wherever demons see the Lord’s blood, they flee, and angels run to gather there.

This blood, poured out, washed the whole world clean. The blessed Paul spoke many wise words about it in the Letter to the Hebrews. This blood cleansed the hidden place and the Holy of Holies. And if the type of it had such great power in the temple of the Hebrews, and in the middle of Egypt when it was smeared on the doorposts, how much more the reality! This blood made the golden altar holy; without it the high priest did not dare to enter the hidden place. This blood consecrated priests; this blood, in types, cleansed sins. But if it had such power in the types, if death so shuddered at the shadow, tell me, how would it not dread the reality itself?

This blood is the salvation of our souls. By it the soul is washed, by it the soul is made beautiful, by it the soul is set on fire. It makes our understanding brighter than fire and our soul more radiant than gold. This blood was poured out and opened the way to heaven.

Truly awe-inspiring are the mysteries of the church; truly awe-inspiring is the altar. A spring went up out of Paradise, sending out material rivers; from this table springs up a fountain that sends out spiritual rivers. Beside this fountain are planted not willows that bear no fruit, but trees that reach to heaven itself, bearing fruit that is always in season and never spoils. [q]

If anyone is scorched by heat, let him come to the side of this fountain and cool his burning. For it quenches drought and refreshes everything that has been burned up — not by the sun, but by the flaming arrows. For it has its beginning from above, and its source is there, from where its water flows. Many are the streams of that fountain, which the Comforter sends out, and the Son is the Mediator — not holding a pickaxe to clear the way, but opening our minds. This fountain is a fountain of light, pouring out rays of truth. Beside it stand the powers on high, gazing at the beauty of its streams, because they see more clearly the power of what is set out here, and its flashes of light that no one can approach.

When gold is being melted, if someone could dip his hand or his tongue into it — if that were possible — he would at once make them golden. In the same way, but to a far greater degree, what is set out here works on the soul. The river boils up fiercer than fire, yet it does not burn; it only baptizes whatever it takes hold of.

This blood was always foreshadowed long ago in the altars and sacrifices of righteous men. This is the price of the world; with this Christ bought the church for himself; with this he has adorned her completely. A man who buys servants gives gold for them, and when he wants to dress them finely, he does this too with gold. In the same way Christ has bought us with his blood and adorned us with his blood. Those who share in this blood stand with angels and archangels and the powers above, clothed in Christ’s own royal robe and holding the armor of the Spirit. But I have not yet said anything great: they are clothed with the King himself.

Now as this is a great and wonderful thing, so if you come to it with purity, you come for salvation; but if with an evil conscience, you come for punishment and vengeance. “For,” it says, “whoever eats and drinks unworthily” of the Lord “eats and drinks judgment on himself” (First Corinthians 11, verse 29). If those who defile the royal purple are punished just like those who tear it, it is not unreasonable that those who receive the body with unclean thoughts should suffer the same punishment as those who tore it with the nails. See, at least, how fearful a punishment Paul declares when he says, “Anyone who despised the law of Moses dies without mercy on the testimony of two or three witnesses. How much worse a punishment, do you suppose, will he be thought to deserve who has trampled underfoot the Son of God, and has counted the blood of the covenant, by which he was made holy, an unholy thing?” (Hebrews 10, verses 28 and 29).

So let us take heed to ourselves, beloved, we who enjoy such blessings. If we feel like saying some shameful word, or find ourselves swept away by anger or any passion of that kind, let us think what we have been counted worthy of, and what a great Spirit we have received a share in; and this thought will sober our unreasonable passions. For how long will we be nailed to the things of the present? How long before we rouse ourselves? How long will we neglect our own salvation? Let us remember what Christ has counted us worthy of. Let us give thanks, let us glorify him, not by our faith alone but by our very works too, so that we may obtain the good things to come, through the grace and love for humankind of our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom and with whom be glory to the Father and the Holy Spirit, now and always, and forever and ever. Amen.