HAVE YOU EVER had a conversation with someone in which you just couldn’t see eye to eye, and kept talking past each other? I’d be surprised if you haven’t. Both of you had a point to make and wanted to be heard. But the more one person insisted on their point, the less the other listened. And the longer the conversation went, the more polarized the two of you became. In the end, one or both you just walked away, wondering why the other person couldn’t understand.

Most conversations go just fine; people are able to hear one another and even build a sense of connection. They can tolerate the occasional minor difference of opinion or perspective. But the higher the stakes, the more one or both parties need things go a particular way, the greater the risk that the conversation will go off the rails.

And apparently, that can happen even if one of the conversation partners is Jesus.

TO MY MIND, it’s one of the strangest interactions in the gospels. To put it in context: Jesus has just done one of his greatest miracles, the feeding of over 5,000 people from a boy’s sack lunch. In John’s version of the story, the people are so impressed that they decide to make Jesus their king, by any means necessary (John 6:15).

Just think about that for a moment. They’ve just seen Jesus perform an astounding miracle that they realize is from God: Hey, this guy must be the Prophet we’ve been waiting for! It’s not surprising, then, that they would want him to be their king. But they were ready to make him do it, whether he wanted to or not. The word John uses suggests that they were going to physically seize him by force.

So, intellectually, they believe that Jesus is a prophet and miracle worker, someone sent by God. But they’re about to grab him and make him do their will. Doesn’t that strike you as just a tiny bit arrogant?

Jesus leaves before they can carry out their plan. The next day, the crowd goes looking for him, and finds him in Capernaum. “Rabbi, when did you get here?” they ask, as if striking up a casual conversation (John 6:25, NIV). But Jesus knows what they’re thinking and gets immediately to the point:

Very truly I tell you, you are looking for me, not because you saw the signs I performed but because you ate the loaves and had your fill. Do not work for food that spoils, but for food that endures to eternal life, which the Son of Man will give you. For on him God the Father has placed his seal of approval. (vss. 26-27)

They came looking for him, in other words, because they see him as a divine meal ticket. Jesus rightly questions whether they truly believe in him, and this is their reply:

What sign then will you give that we may see it and believe you? What will you do? Our ancestors ate the manna in the wilderness; as it is written: “He gave them bread from heaven to eat.” (vss. 30-31)

What “sign” will he give? Apparently, feeding 5,000 people wasn’t enough. Then they tip their hand as to the real motivation for asking. What they want is endless, divinely given bread, and they piously cite Scripture to bolster their case.

But Jesus won’t be distracted from his purpose:

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. For the bread of God is the bread that comes down from heaven and gives life to the world. (vss. 32-33)

He wants them to understand that he himself is the provision they need. Life is more than physical existence, and if they really believed in him, they would know that he’s the sustenance they need.

But they still don’t get it. They still think the conversation is about literal bread, and enthusiastically ask Jesus to give it to them forever. That’s when Jesus declares:

I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never go hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty. But as I told you, you have seen me and still you do not believe. (vss. 35-36)

That’s not the answer they wanted, and things go downhill from there. The people grumble amongst themselves: Who the heck does this guy think he is? Jesus pushes harder:

I am the living bread that came down from heaven. Whoever eats this bread will live forever. This bread is my flesh, which I will give for the life of the world. (vs. 51)

They still don’t understand, arguing over how they might literally eat his flesh. And Jesus doesn’t stop to say, “Okay, you know what, that wasn’t very clear. Sorry. Let me explain.” He pushes still harder, saying that they not only need to eat his flesh, but drink his blood.

Is it any wonder that some of the people who thought they were ready to be his disciples walked away?

WHEN JESUS DECLARES himself to be the “bread of life,” he’s not just pulling a metaphor out of the air. He’s speaking to people who have already seen him provide bread in a way that outdid Moses. But instead of bowing before Jesus as they should have, they saw the miracle through the lens of their own need. That’s what was at stake for them: they wanted literal bread to satisfy their hunger. And to be fair, that’s understandable.

For Jesus, however, what was at stake was their faith and salvation. He could see it, but they could not. And he continued to press the issue, knowing that only those who truly believed would stick with him after that.

Here’s my point. When, in the Lord’s Prayer, we come to the line, “Give us today our daily bread” (Matt 6:9), it’s easy to read that as a prayer that God would provide our daily sustenance. And to some extent, it is. But it isn’t only that. The needs of today, of the moment, can dominate our thoughts and imaginations to the extent that we lose sight of the big picture of God’s sovereign provision, not just for now, not just for us, but for the future and for the world.

After all, as Jesus will say later in the chapter, our primary passion and pursuit should be the kingdom itself, not basic needs like food and clothing. And as we’ll see next, Jesus isn’t asking his followers to do anything that he himself wouldn’t do, even when it comes to something as basic as bread.