Work Hard for the Free Gift
Work Hard for the Free Gift
John 6:25–40 Lord, at all time, give us this bread.
Jesus Proves He's a Presbyterian
Ok, not quite :) — but John 6:25–40 delivers a masterclass in solid Reformed theology.
I love how Jesus sees a crowd and offers free food. I went to UC San Diego for undergrad, and there were over a dozen thriving Christian ministries on campus — all of whom knew that food is a great strategy for ministry!
A couple of us realized that to kick off every semester, there were so many outreaches that if we played our cards right, we wouldn't have to pay for a meal for at least two weeks. So we went from ministry event to ministry event, eating a free meal. Honestly, I had no intention of committing to any of those groups. I was just there for the food.
So when Jesus turns to the crowd on the other side of the lake and says, you are seeking me not because you saw signs, but because you ate your fill of the loaves, I know exactly which side of that sentence I've stood on.
That's where we pick it up today. The day after the feeding of the five thousand, the crowd finds him on the other shore, and he starts what you could only describe as his bread sermon — fifty more verses redefining bread around himself. I'm convinced this is one of the most theologically packed chapters in the whole Gospel of John. In verses 25–40 John is meticulous about every word he chooses. Two plays on words in this passage open up two different sides of discipleship.
What Must We Do?
Jesus has just told them to work for the food that endures to eternal life, which the Son of Man will give to them. Already a bit of a paradox — we work for Jesus' gift? To this we'll return.
The crowd asks the natural follow-up in verse 28: “What must we do, to be doing the works of God?”
It's clunky in English, and the ESV has it right, because it's clunky in the Greek too — two different verbs for doing and working, and then the noun for “work” on the end. Two things jumped out at me:
First, the crowd puts themselves firmly in the driver's seat. They assume it is up to them. What must we do? Which is, honestly, a great summary of basically every religion: there is a God out there, he requires something of us, so we have to get our act together and do the right things to earn his favor and land on the right side of his will so we receive his blessing.
Second, works is plural. They assume a God this good and powerful must have a long list of requirements. Just tell us all of them, Jesus. We'll get started.
The Work of God, or God's Work?
Jesus answers with one sentence that reframes the entire discussion: “This is the work of God, that you believe in him whom he has sent.” Singular. Not works. Work.
And here's the first play on words. That phrase — the work of God — is intentionally ambiguous in English, and I think even more so in the Greek. It's a genitive, which means it can run in two directions.
It could be a simple answer to their question: you asked what God requires of you, and here it is. Not a pile of works, just one — trust the one he has sent. That alone would be a beautiful answer. But the work of God could equally mean God's work, the work God is doing. Read it that way and Jesus isn't shortening their list, he's taking the pen out of their hand: it's not about what you do, it's about what God is doing in you. Even the faith you have is a gift from God.
The longer I walk in this faith, the more convinced I am that it had almost nothing to do with me. Early on I would have told you, of course I put in the work to believe, but more and more I relate with that classic statement, there but for the grace of God go I. It was God who called me, who wooed me, who woke me up, who brought me to himself.
You might be thinking: okay, Tyler, but isn't the simpler reading the more likely one? Fair. Except the rest of the passage is saturated with Jesus talking about the things only God does.
Verse 37: All that the Father gives me will come to me, and whoever comes to me I will never cast out.
Verse 39: this is the will of him who sent me, that I should lose nothing of all that he has given me.
God is the one wooing people to salvation, the one bringing them to Christ — and nothing he has brought to Jesus will be lost. This isn't a new interpretation, either. It goes back at least as far as Augustine, who read the verse the same way: the work of God is God's work, not ours.
My ‘Secret’ Title for This Sermon
That's why my other title for this sermon was Jesus Proves He's a Presbyterian. Because this is solid Reformed theology right here. It's all about the sovereignty of God. He is the one who does the work. At the end of the day it is not actually up to me, and I'm compelled by that.
At the same time, I wouldn't want that to make our faith feel passive. If we emphasize the work of God in our lives, somebody's going to sit back and say, well then we don't have to do anything — he chooses who he chooses and we have no role to play. That is not Reformed, or Presbyterian, or biblical. There is a lot that we do.
Look back at verse 27, before the crowd ever asks their question: work for the food that endures to eternal life, which the Son of Man will give you. There's the intentional paradox. Jesus tells us to work, and then calls the thing a gift.
Work hard for the free gift.
That paradox sits at the heart of the gospel, and I think we're called to grapple with it our whole lives. Grace does not leave us passive. It isn't cheap grace that we receive and then do nothing with. We're supposed to live it out, and that does require hard work — getting rid of patterns of sin, investing in our community, investing in our church, being God's light to our neighbors and to the world. But it is always after we receive the grace. Never in order to get it.
John 6 is right in line with the theology we see in Paul.
Ephesians 2: by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God, not a result of works, so that no one may boast. For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works.
Philippians 2: work out your own salvation with fear and trembling, for it is God who works in you, both to will and to work for his good pleasure.
We don't earn our salvation by our works — we were created for them. Work it out, because God is the one working in you the whole time.
Johnny's Bike
My little boy Johnny is learning to ride a bike. He's three, turning four next week. Last year we got him a specialized bike and I put training wheels on it, and it's been about a year of him learning how to use this gift. At first he wasn't even big enough to fit on it. Then he was learning how to use his muscles to push the pedals in the right direction, learning a little balance, learning what steering is.
Now I can go out in front of our house and walk alongside him and hold the bike. He's still very wobbly. But there are moments when he just takes off, and you can see he's starting to get it, and I look at his face and there's this big smile. As his dad, I feel great pleasure watching him learn to use this gift.
But at no point is he earning the bike. The bike is already his. He isn't earning our love or his status as our son — that has nothing to do with it. He's stepping into a gift we already gave him. And if that bike just sat in the garage for years collecting dust, it would be a wasted gift.
God has given us this incredible gift of salvation, so much more incredible than a bike. And as we work it out, as we step into it, it's like a little boy learning to ride for the first time — and we are feeling the pleasure of God.
I think of Eric Liddell in Chariots of Fire. A Christian missionary who was also an Olympic runner and gold medalist in the 1920s:
“I believe God made me for a purpose, but he also made me fast. And when I run, I feel his pleasure.”
That's what it means to work out the free gift — being in sync with the way God made us to live. Not earning it; we've already received it, and now we get to live into it.
Run so that you feel the pleasure of God.
Lord, Give Us This Bread
In verses 32 to 35 the crowd is still fixated on actual bread, and Jesus is there redefining their hopes around himself. They plead, “Sir, give us this bread always.”
I love that phrase, and here's the second play on words. The Gospel writers are giving us the true and accurate story of the disciples with Jesus, but they're also writing for every future generation of disciples, and many times you find in their words a way to bring the story into our own faith today.
The word translated sir is kyrios — which also means Lord. “Sir” is probably the accurate translation, because I don't think the crowd was acknowledging Jesus as the Lord of the world in that moment. But for us, reading it now, we can recapture the other wording. Lord, give us this bread always.
It becomes a prayer. Not just give us this day our daily bread, as we find in Matthew. But, as Jesus says: the real bread you need is me. The presence of God. The word of God saturating your life, shaping you, calling out the patterns that need to go, propelling you into the gifts he's given you and the mission he has for your life.
So take their question and turn it into your prayer. Lord, at all times, give us this bread. Or even more directly: Lord, every day, give me Jesus. Pick one. Pray it until it becomes a prayer on your breath — something you say in any pause in your day.
Postlude: He Set the Table and I Didn't Eat
There I was, studying this passage, trying to apply it to my own life, praying Lord, at all times give us this bread. One morning I had extra time, so I thought: I'm going to sit in the comfy chair in my office and be with God's word for a while, be with Jesus, before I get into the business of my day.
I inadvertently reached for my phone, and you probably already know where this is heading.
I'll just check a couple of emails first, make sure there's nothing pressing… About an hour went by before I realized what had happened.
It's like what happens at my house. Sometimes we herd our kids to dinner, they sit down, and then they don't eat anything for an hour. Later that night they start complaining that they're so hungry. Well — we fed you. You just wouldn't eat.
That was my moment with Jesus. I was asking God to give me bread, and he set the table, and then I didn't eat it. That's on me.
It's one thing to pray, Lord, at all times give us this bread. It's another to organize my life and my patterns so that I actually take it in — God's word and his presence, through prayer and Scripture, every single day.
This week:
- Pray it: Lord, at all times, give us this bread. Or, Lord, every day, give me Jesus. On your breath, in every pause.
- Then look at your actual patterns. Where is God setting the table and you're not eating?
- And ask the other question: what gift has he already given you that's collecting dust in the garage?
