Bread, Belief, and the Big Exit
Today I read John 6, and one section in particular caught my attention. After the feeding of the five thousand and Jesus’ long teaching about being the “bread of life,” the crowd begins to thin out. Many of those who had been following him start to walk away. The text says, “At this point many of his disciples turned away and deserted him” (John 6:66, NLT).
This moment feels very human. People were enthusiastic at first—drawn in by the miraculous meal, the excitement of the crowd, maybe even the hope that Jesus could keep solving their everyday problems. But when his teaching became difficult, when it required something more than just showing up for food or spectacle, many decided it was too much. They left.
The Twelve on the Spot
The story then turns to the twelve disciples, who are faced with a choice. Jesus asks them directly: “Are you also going to leave?” (John 6:67, NLT). Peter answers for the group: “Lord, to whom would we go? You have the words that give eternal life” (John 6:68, NLT).
That response has been sitting with me. It’s not exactly a declaration of total clarity or confidence. It feels more like a recognition of limited options. The disciples may not have fully understood what Jesus meant by being the bread of life. They may have been just as confused as everyone else. But they also seemed to realize that, despite the confusion, there wasn’t anyone else offering the same kind of perspective, hope, or possibility.
Walking Away vs. Sticking Around
It makes me think about how people respond in moments of crisis or doubt. There’s the temptation to walk away when things no longer make sense, when the answers become complicated or unsatisfying. But there’s also the recognition that walking away doesn’t necessarily solve the tension. Sometimes it just means trading one set of unanswered questions for another.
I wonder if Peter’s words capture something familiar to anyone who has stuck with a difficult commitment—a relationship, a job, a study, even a personal project. There’s that sense of knowing it’s not perfect, not simple, but also not something you’re ready to abandon. “To whom would we go?” isn’t about certainty; it’s about acknowledging that the alternatives aren’t more compelling.
Choosing the Questions We Live With
The passage doesn’t say the disciples suddenly understood everything or that their doubts vanished. What it shows is a moment of choosing to stay, even without full clarity. That kind of decision seems to carry its own weight. It’s not about having all the answers but about deciding which questions you’re willing to keep living with.
Reading John 6 this way makes me think less about the miraculous meal at the beginning and more about the quiet decision at the end—the decision to remain, even when the crowd has moved on. It highlights a different kind of challenge: not the challenge of scarcity, but the challenge of sticking with something when it feels unclear, unpopular, or unfinished.