The TakeAway

John 6:41-51 Grumbling At The Bread Of Life

• Pastor Harry Behrens • Season 3 • Episode 26

Share episode

Send us a text

A calm crowd turns restless the moment Jesus claims He came down from heaven. We follow that pivot in John 6:41–51 and unpack why the issue isn’t the miracle of bread or the promise of resurrection, but the authority of the One who stands before them. I walk through the difference between hearing and learning, how “taught by God” means an inward work that leads us to recognize the Son, and why Jesus refuses to be managed even when the room starts to grumble.

We explore the hard line many try to smooth over: “No one can come to me unless the Father draws him.” Instead of treating it like a puzzle, we receive it as reality that humbles pride and steadies anxious hearts. This is not divine pressure; it’s divine illumination. The Father draws, the Son gives life, and eternal life becomes a present possession, not a distant hope. Along the way, we face the limits of manna—real provision that still ends in death—and meet the living bread who gives His flesh for the life of the world.

If you’ve ever felt torn between wanting a helpful Savior and resisting a sovereign Lord, this conversation aims straight at that tension. We name the ways familiarity blinds us, why control fuels unbelief, and how grace dismantles our frameworks to build a deeper assurance. Hit play for a clear, Scripture-rich journey through John 6 that links divine drawing, the incarnation, and the cross into a single promise: those the Father gives, the Son keeps and raises. If this helped you see Jesus more clearly, subscribe, share it with a friend, and leave a review to tell us what moved you most.

Support the show

Please visit www.chosenbydesign.net for more information on Pastor Harry’s new book, "Chosen By Design - God’s Purpose for Your Life."

SPEAKER_00:

In John chapter 6, Jesus has already made a staggering claim that salvation is not achieved by human effort, that belief itself is the work of God, and that eternal life is secured by the Father's will, not human strength. But truth never sits in a vacuum, it always produces a response. In today's message, the crowd finally answers Jesus, not with faith, but with resistance. As Jesus presses deeper into who he is and where he comes from, the conversation shifts from assurance to accusation, from curiosity to complaint, from listening to grumbling. Today, we will see why the incarnation itself becomes the breaking point for the human heart. Here's Pastor Harry Barens with today's message.

SPEAKER_01:

Hello, welcome again to the Takeaway. I'm your host, Pastor Harry Barron, and today we're going to be continuing in John chapter 6, looking at verses 41 to 51. Now, up to this point in this chapter, Jesus has been doing something very deliberate. He has been explaining salvation carefully, patiently, and clearly. In verses 35 through 40, he told us that he is the bread of life, that belief itself is the work of God, that all the Father gives will come, and that all who come will not be lost, and that those who are given will be raised on the last day. In other words, Jesus has just offered one of the strongest assurances of salvation anywhere in Scripture. And now for the first time in the chapter, the crowd responds. But what's important to notice is how they respond. They don't argue about the resurrection or challenge the idea of eternal life. They don't even dispute the miracle of the bread. Instead, they grumble. Now, grumbling is never about information, it's about resistance. They are no longer wrestling with what Jesus can do. They are now confronted with who he claims to be. And this marks a turning point in the chapter. The issue is no longer salvation explained, it is salvation resisted. What offends them is not that Jesus gives life, but that he claims to have come down from heaven while standing in familiar flesh from a family they think they already know. And that's where this presses us as well, because many people are comfortable with a distant, helpful, and generous God. But a God who stands in front of us and says, I am the source of your life, I define truth, I came down, and you must receive me, not manage me. That kind of God disrupts everything. So today we're going to slow down and walk through why the crowd grumbles. What Jesus exposes beneath their offense and why the bread of life becomes intolerable when he refuses to be controllable. So in verses 41 to 42, we read, So the Jews grumbled about him because he said, I am the bread that came down from heaven. They said, Is not this Jesus, the son of Joseph, whose father and mother we know? How does he now say, I have come down from heaven? Well, John tells us immediately how they respond here. They grumbled. Now that word is deliberate and it is loaded with history. This is not honest confusion or sincere questioning. It is resistance. John uses the same word Scripture uses for Israel in the wilderness, a quiet internal protest against God's provision and authority. The crowd doesn't argue out loud with Jesus. They mutter, whisper, and they resist inwardly. And notice what triggers it. It's not the promise of resurrection or the claim that belief is God's work, not even the miracle of the bread. What offends them is this statement. I am the bread that came down from heaven. This is where the tension finally surfaces. Now, up to this point, Jesus has been speaking about salvation, but now he speaks about the origin of it. And this is the breaking point. Their objection is not a theological sophistication, it's that they think they know him. They say, Isn't this Jesus? We know his parents, we know where he's from, we know his story. In their minds, this disqualifies him. They are not rejecting his teaching, they are rejecting his identity. And this reveals something crucial about the human heart. We are far more comfortable with a Savior who helps us than one who stands over us. A Jesus who provides bread is welcome, but a Jesus who claims divine origin isn't. Because if he truly came down from heaven, then he is not manageable. He is not negotiable. Their logic is simple. He is too ordinary to be divine. But that logic exposes their blindness. They assume that knowing about Jesus means they know him. They confuse proximity with understanding, and they mistake knowing his family background for insight. And this is one of the most dangerous forms of unbelief, because it doesn't come from ignorance, it comes from assumption. They think they know where Jesus comes from, so they refuse to listen to what he has to say about himself. And this is exactly how offense works. When grace confronts our expectations, we don't usually argue against it directly. We dismiss it or we reduce it, then we explain it away. The crowd doesn't say that's false. They say that can't be true. Not because the claim is unclear, but because it disrupts their framework. If Jesus truly came down from heaven, then salvation is not something they can manage, it is something they must receive. And that is what offends them, because receiving requires surrender, and surrender means admitting dependence. This is why the incarnation is always offensive. It's not because God comes near, but because he comes near with authority. The word made flesh stands in front of them, and instead of worship, they grumble. And what they don't realize yet is that this grumbling is not just about Jesus. It is evidence of something far deeper. They are resisting the Father's work itself. And that is exactly what Jesus addresses next in verses 43 to 44. Jesus answered them, Do not grumble among yourselves. No one can come to me unless the Father who sent me draws him, and I will raise him up on the last day. Now notice what Jesus does not do here. He does not clarify their misunderstanding about Joseph or explain the incarnation in softer terms. He does not reassure them by saying, I know this is hard to grasp. Instead, he goes straight to the heart of the issue. He says, Do not grumble among yourselves. That is a rebuke. And he exposes that their problem is not intellectual confusion, it is spiritual resistance. The problem is not how he came down from heaven, but why they cannot accept it. And then he says something that completely reframes the moment. He says, No one can come to me unless the Father who sent me draws him. This sentence explains everything that has happened so far in John chapter six. The crowd followed Jesus for bread, but not for the truth. They witnessed the sign yet failed to grasp its meaning, treating the miracle as provision rather than revelation. They heard his words, but instead of recognizing who he was, they stumbled over his identity. What should have led to faith was dulled by thinking they knew him. And closeness to Jesus became a cause for contempt rather than trust. The issue was not a lack of evidence, it was a lack of ability, as he said, no one can come. He did not say will come. He does not say will not. He says cannot. This is not about permission, it is about capacity. The crowd assumes that coming to Jesus is a matter of choice, that belief is something they initiate when enough proof is supplied. And Jesus says the opposite. Coming to him requires something they do not possess. It requires the Father's action. And the word Jesus uses here, draws, is not passive. It does not mean invite politely. It does not mean make possible and wait. It means to pull, to bring, to act decisively. In other words, Jesus is saying, you are not failing to come because you are unwilling. You are failing to come because the father has not yet drawn you. This is why the grumbling matters. It reveals the heart's resistance to what it cannot control. Because if the father must draw, then salvation is not negotiated. It is not managed or earned, it is given. And Jesus immediately connects this truth to the same promise he has already repeated. He says, and I will raise him up on the last day. He does not separate divine drawing from human destiny. The one drawn by the Father is the one raised by the Son. There is no uncertainty in that chain and no possibility of failure. The Father draws, the Son receives, keeps, and raises. This is why Jesus does not soften his claim. If he did, he would be lying about reality. But they wanted a manageable savior. And Jesus presents a sovereign one. This is where the tension sharpens, because everything Jesus says next will press even harder on this truth. He doesn't retreat, compromise, or adjust his language to keep the crowd comfortable. Instead, he explains why the Father draws, how the Son gives life, and what it means to truly receive the bread from heaven. And many will walk away. Not because the teaching is unclear, but because it is unmistakably clear. And in verse 45, we read, It is written in the prophets, and they will all be taught by God. Everyone who has heard and learned from the Father comes to me. Now here Jesus explains how the Father draws. It's not a coercion, spectacle, or external pressure, but by teaching. Jesus reaches back into the scriptures, specifically Isaiah 54, 13, to show that what is happening in front of them is not new. It is the fulfillment of a long promised work of God. They will all be taught by God. This is an internal revelation. To be taught by God means God Himself opens the heart so that truth is not merely heard, but received. And second, it explains why others are offended, because they have not been taught by God, at least not yet. This is not an insult. It is an explanation of reality. The crowd assumes that hearing Jesus speak should be enough. He says, hearing is not the same as learning. Many hear the words, but only those taught by the Father learn them. And learning does not mean intellectual mastery, it means inward conviction, a truth that comes from within. They know his family, his hometown, his history, but they do not know his father. So instead of being drawn, they're offended. And here is the quiet but devastating implication of verse 45. No one comes to Christ accidentally, and no one comes to Christ autonomously. It means salvation is not the reward of insight, it is the fruit of revelation, which brings us directly to the next clarification Jesus makes, one that guards against misunderstanding what it means to be taught by God. In verse 46, he says, not that anyone has seen the Father except he who is from God. He has seen the Father. So Jesus now tightens the claim he just made. When he says they will all be taught by God, he immediately guards against a misunderstanding, especially one this crowd would be prone to make. They might assume if God teaches us directly, then we have access apart from you. If we are taught by God, we don't need a mediator. If God is drawing us, Moses or the law or our tradition is enough. But he cuts that off completely when he says, No one has seen the Father except the one who is from God. In other words, all divine teaching funnels through Christ Jesus. The Father does not bypass, contradict, or reveal himself apart from the Son. To be taught by God is not a mystical independence, it is Christ-centered revelation. This is consistent with everything Jesus has already said in John's Gospel. When he says in 118, no one has ever seen God, the only God who is at the Father's side, he has made him known. And in John 14, 9, we read, Whoever has seen me has seen the Father. So Jesus is saying something very precise here. You cannot claim to know God while rejecting Christ, or claim divine instruction while despising the Son, and claim access to the Father while refusing the one who came from him. This explains the crowd's condition perfectly, because they believe they are trained in Scripture and that they know God and that they are his chosen people. But when the Son stands before them, they grumble, which reveals the truth. They have not been taught by God in the way Jesus means, because anyone truly taught by the Father recognizes the Son. This is the dividing line Jesus keeps drawing in John chapter 6. It's not about intelligence, morality, or religious heritage, but recognition. Those taught by God recognize Christ for who he is, and those untaught stumble all over him. And now Jesus is about to return, once again, to the central claim that ties everything together. Life itself is bound up in him. Verse 47 to 48, we read, Truly, truly I say to you, whoever believes has eternal life. I am the bread of life. Now he moves from explanation to declaration. He begins with certainty, truly, truly, which means amen, amen. This is not an illustration or an invitation. This is a settled reality. Whoever believes has eternal life, not will have, not may receive, but has. Eternal life in John's gospel is not merely future survival, it is present possession, a new kind of life already begun. But this sentence cannot be read in isolation. Jesus has already told us belief is the work of God in verse 29. No one can come unless drawn by the Father in verse 44. All the Father gives will come, verse 37. So when Jesus says, whoever believes, he is not reopening the question of origin. He is describing the result. Everyone who believes has eternal life, because everyone who believes has already been acted upon by God. Then Jesus anchors that life in himself. He says, I am the bread of life. In their world, it was not symbolic nourishment, it was existence. To say, I am the bread of life is to say life does not come from obedience alone. It does not come from heritage from Moses or from the law. Life comes from union with me, abiding in Jesus. And this exposes the false confidence of the crowd. They believe eternal life flows from being children of Abraham, keeping the law, eating the manna, preserving tradition. And Jesus dismantles all of it with one sentence. Life is not inherited, achieved or maintained. It is received by believing in him. And now the contrast Jesus is about to draw will sting, because if he is the bread of life, then everything else they've trusted has been insufficient. And that means the next comparison, manna will not flatter them. It will confront them. So he says in verses forty-nine to fifty-one, Your fathers ate the manna in the wilderness and they died. This is the bread that comes down from heaven, so that one may eat of it and not die. I am the living bread that came down from heaven. If anyone eats of this bread, he will live forever. And the bread that I will give for the life of the world is my flesh. So Jesus now goes straight at their deepest point of pride. He invokes their strongest theological argument, the manna. Your fathers ate the manna. Mana was the sign of God's faithfulness, provision, and presence in the wilderness. If anything proved God was with Israel, it was the manna. And Jesus says something devastatingly simple. And they died. He wasn't mocking them or minimizing the miracle. He was exposing its limitation. Mana could sustain life, but it could not save from death. So Jesus draws the contrast. He says, This is the bread that comes down from heaven, so that one may eat of it and not die. He doesn't say not suffer, not struggle, not age. He says not die. Jesus is not offering improved wilderness survival here. He is offering deliverance from death itself. Then he intensifies the claim when he says, I am the living bread that came down from heaven. This is the incarnation language. Bread that came down, life descending into death, and then comes the line that begins to fracture the crowd. And the bread that I will give for the life of the world is my flesh. This is where everything shifts. The bread is no longer a provision or a miracle, it is a body. Jesus is saying, Life will come through my giving, my breaking, and my death. Mana fell from heaven untouched by death. Jesus will come from heaven and be consumed by it. Mana was gathered, Jesus will be sacrificed. Mana preserved a life briefly, Jesus will lose his life to giving. Eternally. This is why they begin to grumble, because Jesus has taken their most sacred story and recentered it on himself. And more than that, he has told them plainly, eternal life will not come through eating bread that falls. It will come through receiving a Savior who dies. This is where the offense begins. Now, before we leave this passage, everything we've heard today comes to rest on one sentence Jesus spoke plainly and without apology. He said, No one can come to me unless the Father who sent me draws him. That is a hard word for many to hear. Not because it is unclear, but because it confronts us. This verse is debated endlessly and often treated as a theological problem that needs to be solved, softened, or defended. But Jesus never presents it that way. He does not argue for it. He simply states it as reality. And the offense of this verse is not that God draws. The offense is that we cannot come on our own. This is where the tension truly lies. For those who want to justify their works, this verse is intolerable. For those who want a God who affirms their effort, it is disruptive. For those who want salvation to be something they contribute to, manage, or secure, it feels threatening. But for those who are weary, honest, and undone, this verse is not a barrier. It is assurance. Because Jesus is not saying you didn't try hard enough. He is saying your salvation does not begin with your effort. He is removing the burden of origin from your shoulders and placing it where it belongs with the Father. When Scripture is allowed to breathe, it does not ask permission from our presuppositions, it confronts them. And what it exposes in us is not confusion, but resistance, not lack of information, but a desire to preserve control. The crowd grumbled because this truth dismantled their framework. But Jesus spoke it so that his people would rest. If no one can come unless the Father draws, then salvation is not fragile. It does not rest on the strength of your faith, the clarity of your theology, or the consistency of your obedience. It rests on the will of God. And that means the same Father who draws is the Father who keeps. The same Son who receives is the Son who raises. Nothing is left to chance. Nothing is left for you to maintain. This truth only offends those who want credit, but it comforts those who need grace. And that is exactly what Jesus is doing here. He's not defending God, not protecting doctrine, but revealing reality, so that those who are drawn may know they are secure. Let Scripture confront you where it must, but let it also assure you where it promises. Because the bread of life does not wait for the strong to come. He is given to those whom the Father draws, and he will lose none of them. Let's pray. Father, thank you for sending your Son as the true bread from heaven. Give us hearts that do not shrink back from hard truth, but are made alive by your grace. Teach us to receive life on your terms, to trust you where we do not yet understand, and to rest in what Christ has done for us. We ask this in Jesus' name. Amen. Now I want to thank you again for joining us today, and I hope this message has helped you take a step closer in understanding how much God loves you and wants you to know Him. If today's message stirred questions, challenged assumptions, or simply left you wanting to talk things through, you're always welcome to reach out. You can connect with us through the text us link in the episode description or by visiting us at thetaway. Next time, we'll continue in John chapter 6 as Jesus presses even further, clarifying what this bread of life truly means and why so many struggle to receive Him. Until then, God bless, and we'll see you next time on The Takeaway.