11 November 2025

Wait, we gotta 𝘦𝘢𝘵 Jesus?

John 6.47-58.

Jesus is the living bread. It’s a metaphor for how we gotta commune with him. And in this passage, Jesus gets a bit graphic with the metaphor: The living bread is his body, and if we wanna abide in him, we gotta eat his body. The living drink—he doesn’t specify here whether this drink is living water, or the wine we use as part of our ritual of holy communion—is his blood, and if we wanna abide in him, we gotta drink his blood. (Since drinking blood is a no-no in the Law, Lv 17.10 that got their attention.)

This is where Jesus goes way too far with the Galileans who came to him hoping for free bread. They wanted Jesus to feed them like Moses (properly, the LORD) fed the Hebrews in the wilderness with manna. They didn’t expect him to make profound divine statements, and tell them if they wanted life in the age to come (KJV “eternal life,” because the coming age of the kingdom of God lasts forever) they’d have to eat and drink him.

And like I said, Jesus gets graphic. In verses 54, 56, and 58 he uses the word τρώγων/trógon, which doesn’t merely mean “eating,” like we see in a lot of bibles; it means chewing. Not necessarily loudly, but yeah, like livestock chews on its grain or cud. You gotta chew on the Son of Man. We’re meant to get the idea of rumination—or meditation. We’re meant to turn this food over and over in our mouths—or turn Jesus’s word over and over in our minds, and really work on abiding in Jesus.

Of course, since Jesus is talking about eating and drinking him, it immediately brings to mind the ritual of communion which Jesus introduced in his last supper. Mk 14.22-25, 1Co 11.23-26 Which is likely why bibles don’t translate trógon as “chewing,” but simply “eating.” You know how a lot of churches discourage us from chewing on the communion wafers, because they represent Jesus and they consider it disrespectful to chew Jesus? Yeah, Jesus doesn’t share their hangup. He says trógon. Which is why “chewing” is in my translation.

John 6.47-58 KWL
47“Amen amen! I promise you²
one who believes has life in the age to come.
48I’m the living bread.
49In the wilderness,
your² forefathers did eat manna,
and did die.
50This is the bread
which comes down from heaven,
so one might eat it,
and might not die:
51I’m the living bread
which comes down from heaven.
When anyone eats of this bread,
they¹ will live in the age to come.
Also, the bread which I will give you,
my body,
is for the life of the world.”
52So the Judeans are debating one another,
saying, “How can this man
give us his body to eat?”
53So Jesus tells them, “Amen amen! I promise you²
unless you² eat the body of the Son of Man,
and drink his blood,
you² don’t have life in you².
54One who chews on my body
and drinks my blood
has life in the age to come,
and I will resurrect them¹ on the Last Day.
55For my body is really food,
and my blood is really drink.
56One who chews on my body
and drinks my blood
abides in me,
and I in them¹.
57Just as the living Father sends me,
and I live because of the Father,
one who chews me—
that one will live because of me.
58This is the bread
which comes down from heaven.
It’s not like the forefathers did eat
and die;
One who chews on this bread
will live in the age to come.”

The metaphor and the sacrament.

For centuries, liturgical Christians read this passage and it immediately reminds them of holy communion. Because of course it does. Is Jesus talking about holy communion? Kinda! And kinda not.

The word communion literally means relationship—sharing and exchanging one’s thoughts, feelings, and lives. That’s exactly what Jesus’s living-bread metaphor represents. He wants this level of relationship with us. We’re to be so close to Jesus, we eat him, drink him, breathe him, wrap up our whole lives in him. We’re to live in communion with him. We’re meant to have an extremely close relationship.

But too many Christians reduce communion only to the ritual. We eat the wafer, drink the wine or juice or water, and that’s all communion is to us. It’s just something we gotta do, because Jesus ordained it. But it’s really not just a ritual. Christian sacraments represent profound spiritual truths, and eating and drinking these elements is meant to represent our close personal relationship with Jesus. It’s not to be a substitute for the relationship. Yet way too many Christians think the ritual itself is the only important thing—that if we don’t do the ritual, we’re not following Jesus. As opposed to actually following Jesus, and obeying how he instructs us to live.

If we only practice the ritual, but don’t bother with the lifestyle and the relationship it’s meant to represent, our religion is dead. And way too many Christians suffer from dead religion. It’s these same Christians who point to this passage and claim, “Jesus is talking about communion.” Not about having a real, living relationship with him. It’s not about Jesus being the living bread; it’s gone back to being earthly bread.

Hence we have two factions of Christians: Those who recognize this passage is about our relationship with Jesus, and those who think this is only about holy communion. And both factions sneer at the Galileans, and claim, “Well, they didn’t understand this passage at all. They were outraged because they must’ve taken Jesus too literally, and thought he was talking about cannibalism.”

No they didn’t. The Galileans grew up with the Psalms, remember? Israeli culture is steeped in metaphor; they totally knew what it is. They knew Jesus is speaking in metaphor. Hardcore metaphor—the cannibalism bits are obviously about a profound relationship with Jesus. Which was way too hardcore for them.

Lastly, I’ll briefly mention the Roman Catholic practice of interpreting this passage literally, and how they insist holy communion—or the Eucharist, as they call it, which means “thanksgiving”—is literally Jesus. When they bless the wafers and wine, the very molecules of these elements transform (i.e. “transubstantiate”) into the molecules of Jesus himself.

I grew up Protestant, and was raised to not interpret this passage this literally. Instead I was raised to interpret other passages way too literally. All Christians do this—unless they’re part of theologically liberal churches which take nothing literally, even the parts we’re meant to take literally, because they don’t take the bible seriously. So I totally understand where Catholics are coming from, even though I don’t agree we oughta interpret Jesus’s teaching like that.

But I do agree we oughta take holy communion, and all our rituals, seriously—and Catholics do, and that’s good. Yeah, they can go overboard when they take their belief to its logical conclusions—like worshiping the elements ’cause now they’re Jesus; like pointing out you can blaspheme the elements ’cause now they’re Jesus; like how people with gluten allergies can’t swap in gluten-free substitutes because only these wafers can become Jesus. But to be fair, literalist Protestants go overboard too, and all of us need to discourage ridiculous extremes in any of our beliefs—especially when they discourage us from being gracious.

Okay, back to the Galileans.

Jesus’s audience of Galileans (whom John calls “Judeans” because they are; the Galilee was settled a century before by Judeans), were aware Jesus was speaking in metaphor, like I said; were aware Jesus was speaking of a radical relationship with him, like I said. And Jesus added to this that if you wanna live in Kingdom Come, if you wanna be resurrected and receive eternal life, you gotta eat and drink of him. Just as he has life because of the Father, we have eternal life when we eat and drink of him. Jn 6.57 We don’t get eternal life apart from Jesus.

Jesus offers himself “for the life of the world,” Jn 6.51 which has also been interpreted “so the world can live”—although those who insist God has limited Jesus’s atonement only to Christians aren’t gonna like that idea, even though Jesus dying to save the whole world is all over the bible. God does, after all, love the world, Jn 3.16 and Jesus came to save the world, Jn 3.17 and “the world” ain’t just us Christians.

Jesus’s statements provoked debate, Jn 6.52 and I should point out these sorts of debates broke out in synagogue all the time. Pharisees practiced the Socratic method: You make a radical statement, and then you gotta defend it by responding to your students’ tough questions. Jesus did this too. Getting your students to debate is simply part of the lesson. He’s not unique among rabbis by how he’d provoke debate. What makes him unique is he didn’t teach like Pharisee scribes: He didn’t quote other Pharisees to back himself up. He declared things on his own authority. ’Cause he’s God; he can do that; we can’t. He can definitively say what the Law of Moses means, ’cause he’s the LORD who handed down that Law in the first place. Pretty much every time Jesus said, “But I tell you,” it was another radical statement of divinity.

But when synagogue debates started going in the wrong direction—students getting angry, or students jumping to the wrong conclusions—the rabbi was expected to step in and steer them right, and this is what we see Jesus doing right here. First the students debated, “How’s this guy gonna give us his body to eat?” and then Jesus explained himself by expounding on it… and gave ’em more to debate about.

This is where we Christians often misunderstand what Jesus is doing. Most interpreters presume Jesus is deliberately trying to outrage and confuse the Galileans, and get ’em so angry that only true believers would stick around. No; that’s not what he’s doing. He’s trying to teach people to stop seeking material possessions and earthly bread; to seek him, the heavenly bread; to commit themselves to him so far, they’d “eat and drink Jesus.”

And like a patient teacher, once they finally understood what Jesus’s metaphor meant, then he’d push ’em further. Because he really isn’t kidding about the level of commitment he expects of his followers. And still expects.

Thing is, the Galileans presumed they were getting eternal life because they were Israeli; because they’re descendants of Abraham; because they’re God’s chosen people. Same as Christians who believe all we gotta do to be saved is say the sinner’s prayer, and presto-changeo, you’re Christian. But Jesus teaches us here there’s a commitment level we Christians are often really sloppy about. We can’t just “be Christian.” We gotta follow Jesus. Wholeheartedly. You want life in the age to come? That’s how far we gotta go.

And just like Christians who base all our Christianity on cheap grace and faith-righteousness, the Galileans realized this wasn’t what they believed. Trusting Messiah—trusting, specifically, Jesus of Nazareth—was a whole new concept for them, and one they balked at. So rather than embrace Jesus’s radical new idea, they fell back on their comfortable old idea. They didn’t trust him, like Jesus said, Jn 6.36 and that was that.