“Very truly I tell you, the one who believes has eternal life. I am the bread of life. Your ancestors ate the manna in the wilderness, yet they died. But here is the bread that comes down from heaven, which anyone may eat and not die. I am the living bread that came down from heaven. Whoever eats this bread will live forever. This bread is my flesh, which I will give for the life of the world.” Then the Jews began to argue sharply among themselves, “How can this man give us his flesh to eat?” Jesus said to them, “Very truly I tell you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you have no life in you. Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise them up at the last day. For my flesh is real food and my blood is real drink. Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood remains in me, and I in them. Just as the living Father sent me and I live because of the Father, so the one who feeds on me will live because of me. This is the bread that came down from heaven. Your ancestors ate manna and died, but whoever feeds on this bread will live forever.” He said this while teaching in the synagogue in Capernaum. On hearing it, many of his disciples said, “This is a hard teaching. Who can accept it?” Aware that his disciples were grumbling about this, Jesus said to them, “Does this offend you? Then what if you see the Son of Man ascend to where he was before! The Spirit gives life; the flesh counts for nothing. The words I have spoken to you—they are full of the Spirit and life. Yet there are some of you who do not believe.” For Jesus had known from the beginning which of them did not believe and who would betray him. He went on to say, “This is why I told you that no one can come to me unless the Father has enabled them.” From this time many of his disciples turned back and no longer followed him.
—John 6:47-66

~~~~~

The Dividing Bread
By Jennifer Kane

Picture this:
a close-knit family
gathered for a holiday meal—
smoke rising from the grill,
laughter warm as the sun,
the table heavy with shared tradition.
Unspoken bonds,
born not just of blood,
but of years,
of forgiveness given and forgotten,
of stories half-true and always told.

Then—
a word spoken.
Not hateful.
Not loud.
Just true.

And it slices the air.

Not politics, not petty griefs,
not even pride or jealousy this time.
But something deeper.
A name—Jesus.
A truth—He is the Bread of Life.
A call—eat His flesh, drink His blood.
And suddenly
the room is split
like the veil in the temple.

Some lean in—
confused,
but curious.
Others lean away—
offended,
threatened by a hunger they do not feel.

This is not the division of dysfunction,
but the revealing
of what was already divided
beneath the surface.

Jesus
—gentle and fierce—
doesn’t apologize for truth.
He offers Himself,
not as condiment or side dish,
but as the meal,
the sustenance,
the Savior.

And many walk away,
as they did that day
when He taught in the synagogue.
Too hard, they said.
Too strange.
Too much.

But some stay.
Not because they understand.
But because they believe.

“Lord, to whom shall we go?
You have the words of eternal life.”

Even when it hurts,
even when it divides,
even when we are misunderstood
by those who love us most—
we eat the Bread,
we trust the Giver.
For He has never failed.

~~~~~

Scripture: John 7:1-71

In John 6, Jesus confronts His followers with a profound truth: He Himself is the sustenance their souls need—not just the miracle worker who feeds their bodies. Many had followed Him after the feeding of the 5,000, not because they understood who He was, but because they wanted more miracles, more bread.

But Jesus is not interested in gathering fans. He is calling for faith—deep, abiding, consuming faith.

When Jesus declares that His flesh is true food and His blood is true drink, He isn’t speaking of cannibalism but of spiritual participation in His life, death, and resurrection. It is an invitation to believe so fully in Him that He becomes our very nourishment, our identity, our everything.

Yet many could not accept this. His words were too hard. Verse 66 is haunting: “After this many of his disciples turned back and no longer walked with him.” They weren’t just casual observers—they were called disciples. And still, they left.

Jesus’ words didn’t just divide the curious from the faithful. They revealed the true nature of discipleship. Not everyone who follows Jesus is truly surrendered. The Word of God is sharper than any sword—it cuts between soul and spirit, revealing the thoughts and intentions of the heart (Hebrews 4:12).

Even today, Jesus’ words divide. His teachings about sacrifice, submission, and spiritual dependence aren’t always palatable. Many admire Jesus as a teacher or healer, but stumble at His call to lose our lives to find them in Him.

But there are also those like Peter, who though confused, remain:
“Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life.” (v. 68)

That is the heart of a true disciple—not perfect understanding, but unwavering trust in Jesus, even when His ways are hard.

Have you ever found Jesus’ teachings hard to accept?
Are you following Him for who He is—or what you hope He will give you?
Will you stay when others walk away?

Spend time in prayer today, asking God to deepen your faith. Ask for the heart of Peter—that when all else fails, you would cling to Jesus as your Bread of Life.

~~~~~

Lord Jesus, Your words are sometimes hard to understand, and even harder to live. But I believe You have the words of eternal life. Strengthen my heart to trust You, even when I don’t understand. Feed me with the Bread of Life, that I may never hunger again. In Your name, Amen.

July 1 2025