Far More Abundantly
January 29, 2023
Preached by Benjamin Vrbicek
Scripture Reading
John 6:1-15
6:1 After this Jesus went away to the other side of the Sea of Galilee, which is the Sea of Tiberias. 2 And a large crowd was following him, because they saw the signs that he was doing on the sick. 3 Jesus went up on the mountain, and there he sat down with his disciples. 4 Now the Passover, the feast of the Jews, was at hand. 5 Lifting up his eyes, then, and seeing that a large crowd was coming toward him, Jesus said to Philip, “Where are we to buy bread, so that these people may eat?” 6 He said this to test him, for he himself knew what he would do. 7 Philip answered him, “Two hundred denarii worth of bread would not be enough for each of them to get a little.” 8 One of his disciples, Andrew, Simon Peter's brother, said to him,9 “There is a boy here who has five barley loaves and two fish, but what are they for so many?” 10 Jesus said, “Have the people sit down.” Now there was much grass in the place. So the men sat down, about five thousand in number. 11 Jesus then took the loaves, and when he had given thanks, he distributed them to those who were seated. So also the fish, as much as they wanted. 12 And when they had eaten their fill, he told his disciples, “Gather up the leftover fragments, that nothing may be lost.” 13 So they gathered them up and filled twelve baskets with fragments from the five barley loaves left by those who had eaten. 14 When the people saw the sign that he had done, they said, “This is indeed the Prophet who is to come into the world!”
15 Perceiving then that they were about to come and take him by force to make him king, Jesus withdrew again to the mountain by himself.
Let’s pray again as we begin. “Dear Heavenly Father . . .”
When we preached through the book of Exodus last year and the year before, I read a quote a few times from a theologian named J.I. Packer. Fifty years ago Packer wrote a book called Knowing God. Many Christians, including me, still find it helpful. In the introduction of the book, Packer describes the predicament of modern Christians in this way: we’re looking at God as through a telescope—but through the wrong end of the telescope, and thus God seems small. And so, this theologian said, we then become small Christians (quoted in Tim Chester, Exodus for You, 27). What I said as we studied Exodus was that, it’s as though God takes the telescope from our hands, and turns it around the right way so that we see him as big as he really is, or at least we see him closer to as big as he really is.
What God does in the gospel of John is climb down that telescope, and then he pitches his tent among us. That’s a wonderful thing. But the incarnation presents a particular challenge. Just because he’s here among us and is one of us, we have to keep remembering, he’s not one of us. He’s both one of us and not one of us at the same time. I’ll say it this way. The challenge of God coming down among us in the person of Jesus is that we don’t forget that he is bigger and better than he might at first seem. Jesus came not to give us our small versions of the abundant Christian life but his version of the truly abundant Christian life.
Is your Jesus too small?
And so, the question that hangs over this passage for us is whether our Jesus is too small. Let me show you what I mean.
Philip’s version of “too small”?
First, I’ll talk about this disciple named Philip. He doesn’t show up as much as a few of the other disciples, like Peter. But Philip features prominently here. Let me read the opening again, vv. 1–6.
6 After this Jesus went away to the other side of the Sea of Galilee, which is the Sea of Tiberias. 2 And a large crowd was following him, because they saw the signs that he was doing on the sick. 3 Jesus went up on the mountain, and there he sat down with his disciples. 4 Now the Passover, the feast of the Jews, was at hand. 5 Lifting up his eyes, then, and seeing that a large crowd was coming toward him, Jesus said to Philip, “Where are we to buy bread, so that these people may eat?” 6 He said this to test him, for he himself knew what he would do.
The Sea of Galilee. It’s a pear-shaped lake, about seven miles by thirteen miles. And they are on the northeast side of the lake. And there’s a crowd. Why is the crowd there? We’re told in v. 2. “A large crowd was following him, because they saw the signs that he was doing on the sick.” Some of you have been to an Urgent Care or an Emergency Room, and there’s been a long line. You’ve never seen a long line like this line around Jesus. Rumors of the signs he was doing spread, rumors about the healings—indeed, not simply healings but a healer. And a crowd drew a crowd which drew a crowd, likely a desperate crowd. “Jesus, Jesus, could you heal my son? He can’t walk.” “Jesus, Jesus, heal my wife; she’s pregnant and keeps passing out?” And so on. This grassy hillside was not, I suspect, a fully comfortable setting. In another account of this same story in the gospel of Mark, we’re told the disciples were so busy they didn’t have time to eat themselves (Mark 6:31).
And did you notice the question Jesus asked and who he asked? He picks Philip and asks where they can get food. Why do you think he asked Philip? Back in John 1:44, we’re told that Philip is from this area (cf., Luke 9:10). He’s the local. It’s like when I see someone post something like, “Hey, I’m in Philly; where should I get a cheesesteak?” The locals chime in with their intel. So Jesus picks Philip. “Hey, Phil, looks like they might be getting hungry. Where do we grab food ’round here?”
Maybe Philip was the disciple most aware of the sacrifice the crowd was making to be there. Maybe Philip was even getting a little frustrated with Jesus. In another gospel account of this story, the disciples collectively come to Jesus to tell Jesus that he should send the crowd away because they are in a remote place with nowhere to buy food. Jesus, they feel, is actually being irresponsible (Luke 9:12). Look how Philip responds.
7 Philip answered him, “Two hundred denarii worth of bread would not be enough for each of them to get a little.” 8 One of his disciples, Andrew, Simon Peter’s brother, said to him, 9 “There is a boy here who has five barley loaves and two fish, but what are they for so many?”
Philip’s answer to Jesus is supposed to be ridiculous. You see that in the wording. He picks an amount of money that feels impossibly large—eight months’ wages—and then he says that even if we had that impossibly large amount, there’s no way that everyone would get more than a little.
Even as Jesus is miraculously, supernaturally healing people, it can be hard for disciples to remember that just because he is one of us that he’s also not one of us. To make it more personal, I think about this story sometimes when marriages are hard. If you’re not married or you have some other kind of challenge, just insert that. People often think as a pastor that I’m merely saying the options are A or B. Option A is to keep vows and have a lousy marriage, or Option B, which is to end the marriage. In situations like this, when both people seem to want to follow Jesus, I’m trying to say to them that Jesus might create an Options C, a path to blessing that you can’t see right now, and it might be a long ways away and it might be hard to get to, but Jesus is big enough to change big things. Philip can’t see that.
The Crowd’s version of “too small”?
Seeing Jesus as small isn’t only a problem for Philip. It’s a problem for the crowd as well. In v. 4 we read that this was taking place during a Jewish festival called Passover. That’s an important detail.
Passover is the celebration of when God rescued his people from slavery in Egypt. I’ll say it another way. Passover is the celebration of when God went into a hostage negotiation with the most powerful man in the world of the most powerful nation on earth, and he crippled that man and that nation so that the whole world would know that God is really, really big and awesome and that he loves his people. That’s Passover.
In some ways we could liken Passover to the Fourth of July, the time when America declared her independence from British rule. Passover, like the Fourth of July, is a time of intense, nationalistic zeal. It’s a time for patriotism. This caused tensions in Israel because, at the time, Israel wasn’t in charge of Israel. Rome was in charge of Israel. So, you might imagine how celebrating Passover might be, shall we say, charged. Passover celebrated the time when God overthrew those who were over his people. And now, with each Passover celebration, many prayed and hoped God would do it again.
I’ve used this illustration before, but I find it helpful. Imagine that Canada becomes the most superpower of superpower nations, and then imagine that Canadian armies come attack the United States and conquer us. Now, because America is so big and there are so many people, Canada decides to basically let us do our own thing while finding ways to remind us that they are still in charge. Like taxes, for example. Americans have to start paying huge taxes to Canada to pay for their prosperity. Also, the Canadian military patrols our streets. Stuff like that.
But then every year comes the Fourth of July. Can you imagine the tension created if you were to put your little flags, your little stars ’n stripes along your yard? You put bunting along your porch. Can you imagine the tension of shooting fireworks? All those signals of independence would be charged. We’d be saying, “Hey, Canada, just remember what we did to the British.” In the same way, Israel through Passover was saying to Rome, “Just remember what God did to Egypt.”
Back to the text. Jesus feeds the crowd. And they go nuts. How does the passage end? Look at vv. 14–15.
14 When the people saw the sign that he had done, they said, “This is indeed the Prophet who is to come into the world!” 15 Perceiving then that they were about to come and take him by force to make him king, Jesus withdrew again to the mountain by himself.
That line about “the Prophet” comes from something Moses said in the book of Deuteronomy, that God will send a prophet and that they must listen to him (Deut. 18:15, 18; John 1:20–21; 7:40–41; Acts 3:22–23; 7:37). The crowd makes a leap from the healings to feeding to the prophet to making him king. Which is great, right? “Come on, Jesus, this is your moment! You got 5,000 men and maybe 15,000 people ready to enthrone you.” But he slips away, just like in John 5 after he healed the man who couldn’t walk. What’s this pattern about?
Well, the crowd views Jesus too small. If Jesus had done merely another Passover, if he becomes just another Moses and throws off Rome, then what? Someday they’ll be another Rome with all the power. Jesus is building a kingdom not of this world. Jesus came among them as one of them, but Jesus did the signs to show them that he was also not one of them. He is not small. Philip couldn’t have imagined Jesus feeding the crowd. The crowd couldn’t imagine Jesus doing anything better than healing their sick, filling their bellies, and becoming a puppet king. But it was all too small.
Our version of “too small”?
What are ways you make Jesus too small? Maybe, like Philip, you can’t even imagine him fixing something broken. It just doesn’t seem possible. Maybe, like the crowd, you want Jesus because he’s useful to you.
Here’s another way too keep him small. Liberal theologians who have taught this passage are offended by the supernatural components of the feeding because they don’t believe the accounts of Jesus, so they try to explain him away, which is their way to keep him small. They say that, really, the little boy’s generosity inspired the crowd to share, and that’s how everyone got fed. I think it would be more honest to just say what they really believe, which is that Jesus is small, and therefore we won’t believe the account as it is written, rather than trying to create a ridiculous interpretation. Maybe that’s one way you keep Jesus small. Are you refusing to take the plain account of him as it’s presented to us because Jesus is easier to control if he’s not who he says he is?
To bring all of these together, I remember talking with a friend who was new to Christianity. He had a number people in his life who could coach him and help him, from doctors to business partners to fitness experts and so on. I asked if I could share this. Early on, as he was considering Jesus, one day I said to him, “You know, the challenge for you will be that you don’t just add Jesus into your life to make your life better, to add another helpful advisor. The challenge will be to see Jesus as the Lord over all of your life and that he’s precious to you because of who he is not what he does for you.” And that tension at the start of the Christian life only continues. Your challenge right now, no matter how many years you’ve been walking with him, is to see Jesus as precious for who he is, not merely for how he makes your life better. (I’m drawing here from sermon I heard by John Piper this passage when I use the language of “useful” and “precious.”)
The real Jesus is better than our small versions of him.
This leads to the next part of the sermon. We need to spend time not merely thinking about the ways we treat Jesus as small but the ways John 6 shows us Jesus is big.
Consider the ways he both sees and knows. You can get the impression that Philip is almost a little impatient with Jesus. “Like, come on, Jesus, can’t you see that while these healings are nice, it’s also causing a problem? People gotta eat, and they can’t eat around here, so just send them away.” Look at the wording again.
5 Lifting up his eyes, then, and seeing that a large crowd was coming toward him, Jesus said to Philip, “Where are we to buy bread, so that these people may eat?” 6 He said this to test him, for he himself knew what he would do.
John tells the story of the feeding so that we see not merely the feeding, but we see and know that Jesus sees and knows. Whatever is going on in your life, you don’t need to get God’s attention so that he sees what’s going on. As a pastor, you might have to get my attention; you might have to send emails or text or call or show up at the office and be mad or disappointed or something because I see and know so little. Jesus, however, sees every need you have. You don’t have to get his attention. He might be getting yours, which is what that language of testing is about. He wants you to be fully formed, fully mature in your faith and strong in him. He might test you, but he wants you to pass. In whatever trial you have, Jesus wants to become more precious to you as he shows himself bigger and bigger.
So that’s one way John 6 presents Jesus as big: he sees, and he knows. Also, I’ll mention that he puts blessings along the path of obedience. This one I’ll spend a bit more time with and I’ll tell you a long story. I’ll say the principle again. Jesus is so big and wonderful and precious that he puts blessings along the path of obedience, blessings his people couldn’t have asked for or imagined. Let me re-read the middle of the story again.
8 One of his disciples, Andrew, Simon Peter’s brother, said to him, 9 “There is a boy here who has five barley loaves and two fish, but what are they for so many?” 10 Jesus said, “Have the people sit down.” Now there was much grass in the place. So the men sat down, about five thousand in number. 11 Jesus then took the loaves, and when he had given thanks, he distributed them to those who were seated. So also the fish, as much as they wanted. 12 And when they had eaten their fill, he told his disciples, “Gather up the leftover fragments, that nothing may be lost.” 13 So they gathered them up and filled twelve baskets with fragments from the five barley loaves left by those who had eaten.
It says there were 5,000 men there. I don’t think it highlights the men because they were more important than the women or children. John mentions 5,000 men, I think, because of the line about coming to take him by force. And when talking about who’s important outside of Jesus, clearly the hero of the story is a little boy. So women and children matter. But regardless of why the number of men were counted, it helps to know there perhaps some 15,000 men, women, and children there. We can go to the store and get as much as we want. Except for toilet paper during Covid, right? I’m not being silly. Food for them was like toilet paper was for us during Covid. Jesus was giving out food to people who needed food, people who didn’t know where the next meal might come from. That makes the line about the twelve baskets so interesting. Each disciple would have gone around and collected food. That meant they’d walk up to people, like a server at a restaurant, and say, “Excuse me, are you going to eat that?” Even though food is scarce, the people had eaten so much that after they had filled their purses and pockets and made “to-go boxes,” they finally gave up and said to a disciple, “No, you can have that. I’m too full.”
This sign points to the abundance of Jesus, for sure. But I’m pointing out something more specific. God puts blessings we can’t imagine along the path of obedience. Philip likely thought Jesus should send them away, but that’s not what Philip does. Jesus says, “Tell them to sit down.” And in that moment, Philip had to decide whether he should do what he thought was best or whether he would obey, not fully knowing where obedience would lead or how it would work out. But at Christ’s word, Philip told them to sit down. And not only Philip and the other disciples, not only that boy and his generosity in giving what he had even though he couldn’t imagine how it would even help, but all who read this story and receive the real Jesus will experience blessings along the path of obedience. That’s my experience. And I want to tell a long story as we close. It’s a story about moving across the country and a story about planting a church and a story about obedience and blessings we can’t anticipate. It goes like this…
So, about ten years ago I get a phone call from my friend Jason who I had known for twenty years, and he asked me to come to consider coming to pastor here with him. I say, more or less, “No.” Why? Two reasons, I had only recently begun my first pastorate, and my thinking was that roots were going into the soil, not that I should yank them up. Second, I said no because when I moved to that pastorate, life got really hard. We lost all our savings in a housing market crash, my wife had a miscarriage, the church that hired me changed my job description, we had no family near us, and we moved three houses in about eighteen months. So, no, I didn’t want a new job because in my mind moving to a new church was linked with all that. But I simply prayed, “Lord, if you want to lift up roots, I’ll follow you. I’ll try to trust and obey.” And then, over the next six months, I can tell you that in strange but also healthy ways the Lord changed things. He gave me and us a freedom to move through the circumstances of the other pastors at that church.
At one point during the interviews to come here, after I did apply, I remember talking with Mike, who is now my good friend. I’m 2,000 miles from here, standing outside of a Mcdonald’s Play Place with my kids playing inside, and we’re interviewing each other. In the process of the conversation, Mike tells me about Community’s desire to plant a church. “Tell me more,” I say. Mike says, as he often does, that every church is a church plant, and he believes it’s a biblical thing for churches to do. I agreed. He says, then, “We’d probably rather choose to plant a church than grow our church to 500 people.” This church was about 150 people ten years ago.
I say, “Well, that’s not me. I’d probably rather grow a church to 500 than plant a church.” I asked Mike this week if he remembered that conversation. He didn’t remember but said it sounded like something he would say. I remember it so well because all those interviews are etched into my brain because every conversation felt so weighty. Mike and I agreed that this wasn’t a deal breaker and that, neither was necessarily better than the other. So, I thought, maybe I could work here. So I continue interviewing.
Then months later I come and preach, and the church has to vote on me and all that. Not only that, but I had to decide if I wanted to be here, if we wanted to be here. And now, some nine years later, I’m going to tell a part of this story I’ve never told except to just a few people. A part of me didn’t want to come. I’ll put it this way. I felt about 95% sure that God was telling us to leave and come. But I also felt about 40/60 that I didn’t really want to be here. I’m not telling you the reasons why part of me didn’t want to come because they don’t matter so much. I can tell you I’m not trying to be the hero of this story. I’m trying to say I was really conflicted. I’m trying to say I can relate to Philip.
But what I can also say is something very related to John 6. God has put along the path of obedience blessing that I could have never imagined. Indeed, it’s not just that there are blessings in my life that would not have been here otherwise, but it’s also that Jesus has become the blessing along the path in ways I would never have expected. I enjoy the living Jesus and he is precious to me in ways far more abundantly than I could have ever thought or imagined.
Let me bring the story even more full circle. Last year we had the question in front of us, Do we grow to 500 or plant a church? Well, church, I’ll tell you I haven’t really changed that much. I love seeing Mike and Pastor Ben and a hundred of you who are jazzed about the church plant. I’m not one of them. Maybe you feel the same, and you wonder if it’s okay to say it out loud. I just did.
I am saying, though, that I feel as sure as I can be that this is a good and right, and it is the obedient path for our church to take. And I believe—I truly do—that along this path for our church and the new church there will be blessings we could have never imagined. I’ve already seen them. And I believe along this path there will not only be a hundred blessings we can point to, but especially we’ll have one blessing to point to, namely, that Jesus will become more precious to us.
In the passage, they wanted to make him their puppet king by force. Later, when Jesus goes to die for their sins and save them, we read Jesus say, “My kingdom is not of this world. If my kingdom were of this world, my servants would have been fighting, that I might not be delivered over to the Jews. But my kingdom is not from the world” (John 18:36). The good news of Jesus is that he saves us not merely from oppression in this world but from God’s wrath. He dies in our place so we can be happy in him forever (not merely for a moment). And if Jesus, the real Jesus, the big Jesus, becomes precious to you in this life, he’ll be precious to you in the next life—forever.
I’ll invite the music team forward so we can have a time of response through singing. Let’s pray. “Dear Heavenly Father. . .”
Sermon Discussion Questions
Many people already feel familiar with the story of the feeding of the 5,000, even those outside of the church. Now that you’ve heard it taught and read it carefully, what new things did you notice?
Who do you identify with in keeping Jesus too small? Philip? The crowd? What other ways do you see Jesus as smaller than he really is?
Why is it a good thing that Jesus doesn’t let the crowd make him king? How does that relate to the larger purposes of his mission to save sinners?
What do you feel like God is asking you to do right now that feels hard and you’re not sure if you want to obey?
Benjamin told a story of finding blessings along the path of obedience. Do you have any stories like that? How does Jesus become more precious to us as we follow him?
