What began with a sense of elation, awe, and wonder ended in acrimony. They had feasted on free bread, made miraculously abundant, to their heart’s content. So much so that they tried to crown Jesus as their king by force. When he eluded their grasp, they sought him out and found him in the town of Capernaum, on the far side of Lake Gennesaret. The more they listened to Jesus there, the more their initial hope, expectations and assumptions gradually faded, replaced by disappointment, bitterness, and anger: “This is intolerable language. How could anyone accept it?” What began with a sense of elation, awe, and wonder ended in acrimony: “After this, many of his disciples left him and stopped going with him.” Those who departed were not the only ones disillusioned by the turn of events. Jesus, too, must have been upset by their departure as he turned to his trusted disciples and asked, “What about you? Do you want to go away too?”
When I arrived in Scotland seventeen years ago, I was hugely impressed to see so many churches in the city of Aberdeen. But, on closer inspection, I realised that most of them had been converted into pubs, restaurants, dance halls, and so on or entirely closed down. That was the starkest illustration of a process that had started in the second half of the twentieth century and increasingly gathered pace over the last thirty years or so. The decline in church attendance and, more broadly, Christian religious practice seems to be an unstoppable movement going in one direction. It can be disheartening to see that happening, regardless of our collective efforts to halt it. Some churches went into overdrive trying to adopt the new social norms, only to discover that they had lost the core of their congregations while there’s been no influx of those they tried to please. In a world of such a great variety of entertainment available at one’s fingertips, the church’s misplaced crowd-pleasers cannot permanently win people over. That’s not what the Church was established to do. Although it inevitably has a sociable aspect to its mission, it is not a social but a spiritual enterprise: “The flesh has nothing to offer. It is the spirit that gives life.”
Over the centuries, in the so-called Western world, we have collectively become used to seeing Christianity as the dominant cultural and political power, greatly influencing every aspect of people’s lives and taking it as the norm. That’s why it comes as a shock to those old enough to remember the “good old days” when the churches were full each Sunday, and society seemed governed by religion-based social and moral rules. I’m sorry to break the bad news to you. Those days are gone. Christian society as we used to know it is gone for good. We might feel saddened and hopeless to see that, as did the Twelve in today’s gospel when “many of Jesus’ disciples left him and stopped going with him.”
The turn of events must have left the Apostles disconcerted. From the broader context of the gospels, we know that they genuinely wanted to see and enjoyed the crowds gathering around Jesus. It’s a natural human desire to be popular and liked by others, and the Apostles were no different. The miraculous multiplication of food must have filled them with awe, no less than the crowds, and given them a sense of something even more extraordinary about to happen. They didn’t expect such a rueful outcome of the “Bread of Life” discourse and must have felt disappointed, just like those who had abandoned Jesus. If that was not bad enough, He confronted the Apostles with a tough question: “What about you? Do you want to go away too?” It mirrored the choice set in today’s first reading by Joshua, the leader of the People of Israel, at the end of their campaign to conquer Canaan: “Choose today whom you wish to serve.” As they were about to settle down and build a community, its character would be decided by their personal choices. In other words, it would be a grassroots movement rather than a top-down imposition. Joshua himself declared: “As for me and my House, we will serve the Lord.”
At the heart of the gospel lies a personal response to Jesus. He doesn’t seek crowds of anonymous people. He desires to build a close, personal relationship with each of us: “Listen! I am standing at the door, knocking; if you hear my voice and open the door, I will come in to you and eat with you, and you with me.” (Revelation 3:20) The decision to let Him into your life and allow Him to make an impact on it is yours. Joshua declared his, as did the Apostles: “Lord, who shall we go to? You have the message of eternal life, and we believe.” What is your answer to this question: “What about you? Do you want to go away too?”
Image by Rudy and Peter Skitterians from Pixabay
