The Great Sifting Text: John 6:59-65
Introduction: The Scandal of Specificity
We live in a sentimental age, an age that wants a Jesus made of soft focus and marshmallow. The world wants a therapeutic deity, a divine life coach who affirms our choices and never, ever makes anyone uncomfortable. But the Jesus of the Scriptures is not a tame lion. He is not safe. He is the stone that makes men stumble and the rock that makes them fall. And nowhere is this stumbling block more apparent than in the sixth chapter of John's gospel.
After the great miracle of feeding the five thousand, a miracle that tickled their bellies and satisfied their carnal desires, the crowds were hot for Jesus. They wanted to make Him king by force. They were ready for a political Messiah who would provide perpetual bread and circuses. But Jesus will not be the king of bellies. He is the king of hearts, and He rules over a spiritual kingdom. And so, He begins to preach a sermon designed to do something that makes our modern church growth experts break out in a cold sweat. He begins to preach a sermon designed to thin the herd. He preaches a sermon to drive away the uncommitted, the superficial, and the carnal.
He tells them that He is the true bread from heaven, and that unless they eat His flesh and drink His blood, they have no life in them. This is not seeker-sensitive language. This is not designed to make the marginal feel included. This is a divine offense, a spiritual filter. And as we see in our text today, the filter worked exactly as intended. The crowds began to grumble, and many of His so-called disciples decided that this teaching was too much. The free lunch was over, and the cost of true discipleship was coming due.
This passage is a crucial diagnostic for the church in any age. It forces us to ask what kind of Jesus we are following. Are we following the Jesus of our own making, the one who caters to our felt needs? Or are we following the Christ of Scripture, the one whose words are spirit and life, and who demands absolute, unconditional surrender? This is the great sifting. This is where the wheat is separated from the chaff, not by our decision, but by His Word.
The Text
These things He said in the synagogue as He taught in Capernaum.
Therefore many of His disciples, when they heard this said, “This is a difficult statement; who can listen to it?” But Jesus, knowing in Himself that His disciples were grumbling at this, said to them, “Does this cause you to stumble? What then if you see the Son of Man ascending to where He was before? The Spirit is the One who gives life; the flesh profits nothing; the words that I have spoken to you are spirit and are life. But there are some of you who do not believe.” For Jesus knew from the beginning who they were who did not believe, and who it was that would betray Him. And He was saying, “For this reason I have said to you, that no one can come to Me unless it has been granted him from the Father.”
(John 6:59-65 LSB)
The Carnal Gag Reflex (v. 59-61)
We begin with the setting and the immediate reaction.
"These things He said in the synagogue as He taught in Capernaum. Therefore many of His disciples, when they heard this said, 'This is a difficult statement; who can listen to it?' But Jesus, knowing in Himself that His disciples were grumbling at this, said to them, 'Does this cause you to stumble?'" (John 6:59-61)
John reminds us that this was not a private conversation. This was a public sermon in the synagogue. Jesus is laying down the foundational claims of His identity and mission in the midst of their formal worship. And the reaction is immediate. Many of His "disciples," and we must put that word in quotation marks for a moment, find His teaching to be a "difficult statement." The Greek word is skleros, which means hard, harsh, or offensive. They are not saying it is intellectually difficult to parse. They are saying it is offensive to their sensibilities. It is a statement they cannot stomach.
Their question, "who can listen to it?" is not a request for clarification. It is a rhetorical dismissal. It means, "No reasonable person could be expected to accept this." They were following Jesus for the loaves and fishes, for the signs and wonders. They were carnal men, and they could only hear His words on a carnal level. They heard "eat my flesh" and thought of cannibalism, because their minds were stuck in the mud of the material world. They were spiritually tone-deaf.
Jesus, knowing their grumbling without anyone telling Him, goes straight to the heart of the issue. "Does this cause you to stumble?" The word for stumble is skandalizo, from which we get our word scandal. Jesus is asking, "Is this the point where you are offended? Is this the rock you trip over?" He is not surprised by their offense. He engineered it. The Word of God is a stumbling block to the proud, and Jesus is the Word made flesh. He confronts their unbelief head-on. He doesn't soften the message. He doesn't apologize for being misunderstood. He doubles down.
The Greater Stumbling Block (v. 62)
If they think His claims about His flesh are hard to swallow, Jesus points them to an even greater offense to their naturalistic worldview.
"What then if you see the Son of Man ascending to where He was before?" (John 6:62 LSB)
This is a master stroke. They are choking on the metaphor of His incarnation and sacrificial death, and He tells them to get ready for the reality of His ascension. He is essentially saying, "If you are scandalized by My coming down from heaven, what will you do when you see Me going back up to heaven?" This statement is a profound claim to both His pre-existence and His deity. He is the "Son of Man," a direct reference to the glorious figure in Daniel 7 who comes on the clouds to the Ancient of Days to receive an everlasting dominion. He is telling them that His origin is not Nazareth, but Heaven, and His destination is not the grave, but the throne of the universe.
The ascension is the ultimate vindication of His claims. It proves that He is who He said He was. For the grumbling disciples, this was an even greater absurdity. A man floating up into the sky? It violates every law of physics and common sense. But for those with eyes to see, the ascension is the exclamation point on the gospel. The one who descended in humility is the one who will ascend in glory. He is not just the bread that comes down; He is the King who goes up to rule.
The Spiritual Key (v. 63)
Jesus now provides the interpretive key to His entire discourse. He tells them why they cannot understand Him.
"The Spirit is the One who gives life; the flesh profits nothing; the words that I have spoken to you are spirit and are life." (John 6:63 LSB)
Here is the central problem. They were trying to understand spiritual truth with carnal minds. "The flesh profits nothing." The word for flesh here is sarx, which refers to unregenerate human nature, man in his own strength, wisdom, and ability. Your natural reason, your five senses, your best human efforts, all of it is utterly useless when it comes to apprehending the things of God. The natural man does not accept the things of the Spirit of God, for they are folly to him (1 Cor. 2:14).
Life, true spiritual life, is the exclusive work of the Holy Spirit. The Spirit is the one who "gives life," who quickens the dead heart and opens the blind eyes. Without this sovereign, regenerating work, the words of Jesus will always be a hard saying. But when the Spirit gives life, those very same words become "spirit and are life." They are not just letters on a page or sounds in the air; they are the very power of God unto salvation. Jesus is telling them that their problem is not intellectual; it is spiritual. They are spiritually dead, and dead men cannot respond to the living Word.
The Divine Diagnosis (v. 64-65)
Jesus then moves from the general principle to the specific diagnosis. He applies the scalpel to the hearts of those standing right in front of Him.
"But there are some of you who do not believe." For Jesus knew from the beginning who they were who did not believe, and who it was that would betray Him. And He was saying, "For this reason I have said to you, that no one can come to Me unless it has been granted him from the Father." (John 6:64-65 LSB)
Jesus is not surprised by their defection. He "knew from the beginning" who were true and who were false. This includes Judas, the ultimate false disciple. This is a staggering claim to omniscience. He is not discovering their unbelief; He is exposing it. Their grumbling is not the cause of their unbelief; it is the symptom. The root issue is a heart that does not believe.
And then He brings it all back to the bedrock of divine sovereignty. "For this reason I have said to you, that no one can come to Me unless it has been granted him from the Father." He connects their unbelief directly to the doctrine of sovereign grace. Why do some believe and others do not? Why did Peter stay and Judas leave? The ultimate answer is not found in the will of man, but in the will of God. Saving faith is not a product of human initiative. It is a gift. The ability to "come to Jesus" is not a native power we all possess. It must be "granted" by the Father.
This is the doctrine that our proud, autonomous, democratic age despises above all others. We want to believe that we are the captains of our own souls, that we cast the deciding vote in our salvation. But Jesus says no. God is the potter, we are the clay. He is sovereign in salvation from beginning to end. The Father elects, the Son redeems those the Father has given Him, and the Spirit applies that redemption, giving life to the dead. This is why the gospel is good news. If salvation depended on me, it would be the worst news imaginable. But because it depends entirely on the grace of a sovereign God, it is an anchor for the soul, firm and secure.
Conclusion: To Whom Shall We Go?
This passage functions as a great fork in the road. For the carnal disciple, the one following Jesus for what he can get out of it, these words are intolerably offensive. They are a stumbling block that sends him away, grumbling, back to his old life. He came for a free meal, and he was offered a crucified Lord. He wanted a political king, and he was given spiritual bread. He wanted a religion that made sense to his flesh, and he was confronted with the sovereign grace of God. And so he leaves.
But for the true disciple, the one to whom it has been "granted from the Father," these words are spirit and life. They may be hard, they may be challenging, but they are the words of eternal life. When Jesus turns to the twelve and asks if they too want to leave, Peter gives the only possible answer for a regenerated heart: "Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life" (John 6:68).
The true believer understands that there is no other option. The world offers nothing but husks. Philosophy offers nothing but empty speculation. Other religions offer nothing but works-righteousness and false gods. Only Jesus has the words of eternal life. The true believer has been given life by the Spirit, and he recognizes the voice of his Shepherd. He may not understand everything. He may wrestle and struggle. But he knows he cannot go back. He has tasted the heavenly bread, and all other food is now sawdust.
So the question comes to us today. Do these words cause us to stumble? Does the exclusivity of Christ, the necessity of His atoning death, the sovereignty of God in salvation, does all this offend our modern sensibilities? If it does, then we are hearing with the ears of the flesh. But if, by the grace of God, we hear these words and say with Peter, "To whom shall we go?" then we have been given life by the Spirit. We have been granted the gift of faith. And we can rejoice that our salvation rests not in our wavering ability to hang on to Him, but in His sovereign, unshakeable, eternal grip on us.