John 6: 63-69

Through this journey in John 6 we’ve come to Jesus’ question to the twelve that remain, “Do you also wish to go away?” The term disciple means learner. For many who followed Jesus, their learning had ended. Whatever encouraged them to follow in the first place was replaced with discouragement, and they chose to leave Jesus. Their business of learning from Jesus was over.

Years ago, Milo Stenson, the Dean of Students at Indiana State University, informed Willis Manfred, the football coach, his star player, Malcolm Peeples, was being thrown out of college. Coach dashed over to the dean’s office and said, “Dean, I’d like to know why you’re expelling Malcolm.” The dean answered, “Well, we caught him cheating on a test.” The coach asked, “How do you know he was cheating?” “Coach,” said the dean, “he was sitting next to a straight-A student , and the history professor gave a pop quiz of ten questions. The first nine answers on the two papers were identical.” And the coach said, “Well, you know, that could happen.” Dean Stenson said, “Yes, that’s true, but it was the tenth answer that really sealed his fate. You see, the straight-A student answered that tenth question, ‘I don’t know.’ And your prize player Malcolm wrote, ‘I don’t know either.'” 

All these learners of Jesus, either called by the Father or not, were confronted with language that challenged their commitment to stay with their rabbi, their teacher. They were challenged to stay with their teacher despite their misgivings. Their relationship with Jesus was meant to grow from teacher and student to family members and something even deeper.

“I’m really worried,” said one little boy to a friend. “Dad slaves away at his job so I’ll never want for anything, so I’ll be able to go to the university if I want to. Mom works hard every day washing and ironing, cleaning up after me, taking care of me when I get sick. They spend every day of their lives working just on my behalf. I’m worried. . . .” His friend asked, “What have you got to worry about?” And he replied, “I’m afraid they might try to escape.” The large group of disciples, learners, did escape from Jesus, and he asked the twelve that remained if they wanted to go too.

Peter, the spokesperson, chances are the oldest one, spoke for the group.  “Lord, to whom can we go?” To whom can the twelve go? They could go back home. The fishing business wasn’t terrible. James and John might be accepted back by their father Zebedee. Jesus would understand because he told that story about that ungrateful son who took his inheritance and spent it all and came home ashamed, but his father threw a feast for him. Yeah, Jesus would understand.  Peter’s wife and mother-in-law would probably accept him back. His mother-in-law was healed from a high fever by Jesus. They’d welcome him back because they knew he followed a true holy and gifted man. His time wasn’t wasted. Matthew would always be accepted back into the syndicate, pressuring people to pay more taxes than they really owed. Judas would probably be thankful to get back with his zealot friends and leave Jesus if he really wasn’t the Messiah after all. They all could go back home.

They could start following the Pharisees and Sadducees. The twelve could start learning earnestly the Pharisees’ interpretation of the law of Moses. There always seemed to be more of them confronting Jesus’ words and deeds than he and his disciples. The Pharisees and Sadducees had the traditions and the temple and the blood of lamps and bulls on their side while Jesus and his rag-tag band of misfits kept moving from Jewish to Samaritan back to Jewish territory as if they were on the run, avoiding a potential ambush or arrest. It seemed only a matter of time before all of them would be on trial before the Sanhedrin. Supreme Court Justice Oliver Wendell Holmes had the reputation of being absent-minded. One day on a train out of Washington, Holmes was studying a pending case when the conductor asked for his ticket. The jurist searched each pocket nervously, but to no avail. “Don’t be concerned, Justice Holmes,” the conductor said. “We know who you are. When you return to Washington, you can send us the ticket at your convenience.” Holmes lowered his eyes and shook his head sadly. “Thank you, my good man, but you don’t seem to understand the problem. It’s not a question of whether I obtained a ticket. The problem is: Where am I going?” They could follow the law keepers and their lawyers, but where would they be going?

They could follow the spiritual enemies of Jesus, Satan and all those demons causing such havoc among so many. The evil spirits ravaged people in every quarter of Palestine. Though Jesus was always able to cast them out of the old and young, the rich and poor, it was Satan who tempted him, his authority and divine identity, but Jesus endured the temptations. Though that being so, Satan was never vanquished or defeated utterly by Jesus’ power and authority. Satan seemed to always be in the shadows lurking and waiting. There were the sicknesses and seizures they brought about that Jesus always corrected, but there were always those in religious and political authority who would succumb to the demonic temptations and compromise their authority for the sake of graft or fame. The father of a small boy would occasionally sneak into a neighbor’s orchard and pluck some of the choicest fruit. He always made sure, however, that the coast was clear. One day with his son tagging along, after carefully looking in every direction and seeing no one, he crept through the fence. He was just about ready to help himself when the youngster startled him by crying out, “Dad! Dad! You didn’t look UP! You forgot to see if God is watching.” Could the disciples really begin to follow any personification of evil after all they’d seen and experienced?

Peter said to Jesus, “Lord, to whom can we go?” Lord, we’ve seen too much, we’ve heard so much. So many have sought you for relief and grace and peace and hope. They came with high expectations. Yes, there were those who wanted you to be coronated as king with a sword in your hand and shouts in your throat to beckon the legions of followers to fight for you. But your authority and power revealed heaven coming to earth in your words and deeds, in the kingdom of God sins were forgiven, the poor heard the good news of God to all, and your resurrection opened the door for all to receive life eternal.

“Lord, to whom can we go? You have the words of eternal life.” I once heard a preacher put it this way: “When you speak, we come alive inside.” Peter knew there was nowhere else to go and no one else to go to. When Jesus speaks, we come alive inside. Peter then made his confession like he did in the other gospels in Caesarea Philippi, “You are the Holy One of God (the Christ, the Son of the living God).”

Hendrick Kraemar, the bishop and leader of the church in Denmark in the early 1940s, described the panic that overtook the clergy of his diocese as the Nazis marched in to take possession of their country. The clergy came to his house and asked, “What should we do?” He answered, “First, we must ask who we are! If we know who we are, then we will know what to do.”

Jesus’ question to Peter, “Do you also wish to go away,” is a fair inquiry to be made to any of us. Many have left because of what it means to follow and staying close to Jesus. Many have chosen to pursue him for a time because of what he is prone to do as the Son of God, to love his Father’s children and show them how much. Then there is that time, that season when he makes it clear to those he loves that he expects our love in return by manifesting that love in the lives and experiences of neighbors and strangers alike.  Still, many leave. It happened then; it happens today. And Peter’s faith, first in words, “When you speak, we come alive inside,” then in faithfulness and sacrifice, still echoes in our spirits. We have no life without him. He is our savior, our Lord. We will follow and believe.

(Preached at Lincoln UMC in Lincoln, AL, August 22, 2021)