Following Judah's Lion

Eat My Flesh - Drink My Blood

Jn.6:48-57 - I am that bread of life.
49 Your fathers did eat manna in the wilderness, and are dead.
50 This is the bread which cometh down from heaven, that a man may eat thereof, and not die.
51 I am the living bread which came down from heaven: if any man eat of this bread, he shall live for ever: and the bread that I will give is my flesh, which I will give for the life of the world.
52 The Jews therefore strove among themselves, saying, How can this man give us his flesh to eat?
53 Then Jesus said unto them, Verily, verily, I say unto you, Except ye eat the flesh of the Son of man, and drink his blood, ye have no life in you.
54 Whoso eateth my flesh, and drinketh my blood, hath eternal life; and I will raise him up at the last day.
55 For my flesh is meat indeed, and my blood is drink indeed.
56 He that eateth my flesh, and drinketh my blood, dwelleth in me, and I in him.
57 As the living Father hath sent me, and I live by the Father: so he that eateth me, even he shall live by me.
How shocking! How arresting! Even His own disciples were offended at such words, and many of His followers walked away. This kind of language rejects the euphemism and uses metaphorical words that even imply cannibalism. But Jesus used all sorts of “Hebrewisms” that bring home a point with strong word pictures and heart shaking verbiage.
He said He was the door; He said He was the resurrection; He said He was the Son of man; He used words like fire and worms for hell, and words like gold and pearls for heaven. The Master was never shy about startling words, and His listeners said He spoke as someone with authority. No kidding!
But here in John chapter six Christ raises the bar substantially. Our Roman Catholic friends have built an entire sect upon a misinterpretation of His teaching here. Look here at a verse in the next chapter of John.
Jn.19:9 - I am the door: by me if any man enter in, he shall be saved, and shall go in and out, and find pasture.
Was Jesus a literal, earthly door through which people could pass like some Star Trek travel? And when He says they will find pasture does He mean grass and dirt and rocks? Of course not, and so when Jesus speaks about eating His flesh and drinking His blood He is presenting a teaching that is profoundly spiritual, but so important that He uses an astounding word picture to grab not only their attention, but their hearts as well. Some could not endure such words.
But so often we in the west either turn His words into an ecclesiastical tradition as in the Roman Catholic Church, or we ignore the deeply provocative nature of that teaching by rendering it as purely philosophical and stimulating by its metaphorical creativity. But if we stop for one moment and get out of the Biblical drive through lane, we just may allow the Spirit to imprint our hearts with something far more valuable than just the well worn “trust Jesus to be saved” catch all truth. As western evangelicals, we have succumbed to a spiritual malaise that is satisfied with a thin layer of truth that is mostly a redundancy of the same truth. Deep and penetrating truths are far too costly in time and energy, and they may well bring with them some personal challenges that stray outside the accepted convenience of the average pew dweller’s lifestyle.
Now the metaphor about the manna coming down from heaven is easily understood, and it openly compares Christ to that manna. He is the bread of life that came down from heaven. And bread was and still is very important in the oriental cuisine. It is a part of their lives. We occidentals like bread as well, but our understanding is far less observant and does not have thousands of years of history attached to it. Bread gives and sustains life. The similarity to Christ is obvious.
Then Jesus takes another step by saying that He is the living bread from heaven, and that all who eat of this bread shall live forever. He isn’t saying that He will give them some bread; He says that He IS that bread. And here is where the water becomes much deeper and the truth more profound in its Christ centered teaching. Jesus says that His flesh is that bread, and that He will give His own flesh for the life of the world. (Yes, John Calvin, the world.)
Now we have entered into the “Twilight Zone”. Of course we understand, post Calvary, that Jesus was directly referring to the cross. After His resurrection, and more substantially after the Day of Pentecost, believers would come to rejoice in the many teachings by Christ that foretold His death and resurrection. But Jesus adds something else here that is so pungent and so mentally and emotionally scalding, that one must either meditate upon His words, or dismiss them as just another way to present John 3:16.
Our Lord speaks of eating His flesh and later about drinking His blood. Talk about a striking word picture! Using a reference to cannibalism, as it were, is most unusual and some might suggest somewhat offensive. But those words were meant to carry the weight of what it means to believe on the Lord Jesus Christ. This is no “say a prayer win a cupie doll” type of religious carnival, regardless of the Joel Osteen climate that spreads today. And believing on Christ involves sacrifice as well as great and surpassing gain.
How deep must a disciple’s life be when Christ is moved to teach with such reckless abandon and offensive verbiage? When the Creator speaks of eating flesh and drinking blood, He must consider the subject matter of great magnitude as well as of great consequence. These are eternal truths that hold the weight of men’s souls in their quintessence and their reality. And in that same teaching resides the very glory of Almighty God.
So the magnitude of this truth is so towering in its scope, that just a children’s flannel board teaching will not suffice. And although John 3:16 presents this same truth, this time Jesus makes a linguistic leap that challenges His closest followers and demands they seek out the treasure that these words expose. This believing on Jesus issue must be more than believing in black holes or believing in your own children. What kind of faith can be defined by a spiritual act of cannibalism? It is most disturbing, which is exactly what Jesus intended.
We need to be disturbed. It should disturb us that we are not more hungry for Christ and His kingdom. It should disturb us that we are comfortable in this world’s system that is so at odds with our Redeemer. It should disturb us that prayer is such a chore and has become a mere ritual that is practiced with such convenience and economy. It should disturb us that we rarely seek Christ anymore with any passion or relentless Jacob-esque resolve.
But if a business opportunity exists, or if a special vacation is on the horizon, or if we sense an investment could lead to a financial windfall, then our intensity and resolve is observable. Yes, we should be disturbed that the depth of our own faith falls embarrassingly short of the flesh eating metaphor. The Lord is not interested in this run of the mill “I’ve trusted Jesus” kind of religious expression. When you eat flesh and drink blood, even when that picture is a communication tool, it requires a level of commitment that runs far deeper than a revolving Sunday morning experience.
And that devotion also rises above just a fleeting, sacred moment around the communion table. What kind of open rebuke is it to our Lord when those that claim His name rush in on Sunday mornings, fresh from a week consumed with self and the things of this world, and bow their heads and take communion? And if the truth be known, the overwhelming majority of the ecclesiastical mob on Sunday mornings spent more time combing their hair than they did in separated communion with Him. And that is on the very day reserved to worship Him collectively!
Eat His flesh - drink His blood? Who are we kidding? The words of our Lord in John chapter six are not only arresting in their linguistic shock, but when received in their spiritual reality, they should be an open rebuke to us all. Is our faith so strong, so deep, so relentless, and so eternally betrothed, that people might understand the communion table as a devotional practice that does mirror our life’s commitment to Him? Is it ritual without substance, or is it a natural expression that reveals a changed heart and captures in a sacred ceremony that which lives through us during the week in unmistakable and remarkable clarity?
We have just scratched the surface here, but if this makes you too full and too uncomfortable, then there is only one recourse. Return to a “shallow stream of piety that runs a fresher course on Sunday mornings”. (R.G. Lee)