I want to begin with a confession. Last week we heard a confession of love for Jesus, and it has been haunting me all week. It made me examine my own heart: Do I really love the Lord? Do I sincerely love Him? It’s tough for me sometimes to open up and share where I really am, because my mind is constantly moving from one thing to the next, duties to be fulfilled, responsibilities to carry, and I want to be strong for my family. But I have a persistent friend who will not let me get by with a surface-level answer. He keeps asking until I finally say, “All right. You really want to know?”

So I told him. I said that I have a daily Bible reading I do every single morning. I have been faithful in my morning prayer time, faithful in my time in the Word, faithful in gathering my family together to pray. But I said, “Most days I really don’t feel connected. I have so many burdens and cares that crowd out that fellowship, and it feels like I am trying to live my Christian life without Jesus.”

I mean it. I’m going through the list of things God wants me to do, checking the boxes, and He is over there, and I know better. Being a Christian is not checking off a list. Being a Christian is the life of Jesus Christ Himself, risen from the dead, living His life through you. And I told my friend, “I haven’t been there for a while. I’ve been running on my own strength, and I am running out.”

There is a book called The Bush Is Still Burning that has helped me, commenting on the “I am” statements of John’s Gospel. This passage hit home: “We cannot be strengthened by Christ if we want to be strong on our own for Christ. When we admit our need for strength, He gives us strength sufficient for what? To do His will, on His timing, where and when and with whom He chooses. We cannot expect His strength for our schemes. We can expect abundant energy, wisdom, and power to do what He wants us to do.”

And it closes on a hymn that has been on my heart all week:

He giveth more grace as the burdens grow greater, He sendeth more strength when the labors increase. To added affliction He addeth His mercy, To multiplied trials His multiplied peace. When we have exhausted our store of endurance, When our strength has failed ere the day is half done, When we reach the end of our hoarded resources, Our Father’s full giving is only begun. His love has no limit, His grace has no measure, His power has no boundary known unto men. For out of His infinite riches in Jesus, He giveth and giveth and giveth again.

He giveth and giveth and giveth again. That is the backdrop for what I want to look at today: the feeding of the five thousand, one of the rare accounts recorded in all four Gospels. Zach talked last week about reading the same story across all four, and it really is worth doing because each writer brings a different perspective. Let me take us through each one.

The Setting

Before we get to the accounts, let’s set the stage. Jesus had been rejected in Nazareth where people said, “Is this not the carpenter, Joseph’s son?” He had sent His disciples out two by two to preach. And then He received news that John the Baptist was dead. He wanted to get away, to pray, to be alone, because He knew that when John died, His own hour was drawing near. The one who went before Him to prepare the way was gone.

Matthew’s Account

“Now when Jesus heard this, he withdrew from there in a boat to a desolate place by himself. But when the crowds heard it, they followed him on foot from the towns. When he went ashore he saw a great crowd, and he had compassion on them and healed their sick. When it was evening, the disciples came to him and said, ‘This is a desolate place, and the day is now over; send the crowds away to go into the villages and buy food for themselves.’ But Jesus said, ‘They need not go away; you give them something to eat’” (Matthew 14:13-16 ESV).

He went there to get away. How many times have we needed just five minutes, just a moment to catch our breath? And within seconds someone needs something. And yet it says He had compassion on them and healed their sick. Not irritation. Not frustration. Compassion. His heart always went out to the person in front of Him. Even weary as He was, sitting next to the well, He offered the woman of Samaria the water of life. He was always giving Himself away.

The disciples, tired from their travels, said, “Send them away. Let them go get food.” And Jesus said, “You give them something to eat.” The point is profound: you draw on My resource. You give what I provide. And of course, all they had was five loaves and two fish. “He said, ‘Bring them here to me.’ Then he ordered the crowds to sit down on the grass, and taking the five loaves and the two fish, he looked up to heaven and said a blessing. Then he broke the loaves and gave them to the disciples, and the disciples gave them to the crowds, and they all ate and were satisfied” (Matthew 14:18-20 ESV).

They all ate, and they were satisfied.

Mark’s Account

“The apostles returned to Jesus and told him all that they had done and taught. And he said to them, ‘Come away by yourselves to a desolate place and rest a while.’ For many were coming and going, and they had no leisure even to eat. And they went away in the boat to a desolate place by themselves” (Mark 6:30-32 ESV).

And then, the crowd got there ahead of them. “When he went ashore he saw a great crowd, and he had compassion on them, because they were like sheep without a shepherd, and he began to teach them many things” (Mark 6:34 ESV).

I circled that phrase. He had compassion on them because they were like sheep without a shepherd. When I sit in my morning prayer time, dry and heavy and distant, feeling like He is far away and I cannot reach Him, I read that and think: He looks on me too. He looks on the one who feels lost and without a shepherd, and He has compassion. He does not leave them in that condition. He began to teach them.

Luke’s Account

“On their return the apostles told him all that they had done. And he took them and withdrew apart to a town called Bethsaida. When the crowds learned it, they followed him, and he welcomed them and spoke to them of the kingdom of God and cured those who had need of healing” (Luke 9:10-11 ESV).

Luke gives us the town: Bethsaida. And then, the familiar scene. The disciples say it’s late, send them away. Jesus says, “You give them something to eat.” Five loaves, two fish. “And taking the five loaves and the two fish, he looked up to heaven and said a blessing over them. Then he broke the loaves and gave them to the disciples to set before the crowd. And they all ate and were satisfied. And what was left over was picked up, twelve baskets of broken pieces” (Luke 9:16-17 ESV).

I circled two words there: all and satisfied. They all ate and were satisfied. Not a select few. Not the most faithful. Not the ones who had been following longest. All of them. Five thousand men, not counting the women and children. Jesus is abundant. There is provision enough for every one.

John’s Account

John’s Gospel is quite different from the other three, which is why Matthew, Mark, and Luke are called the Synoptic Gospels and John stands apart. John adds details none of the others include, including names.

“After this Jesus went away to the other side of the Sea of Galilee, which is the Sea of Tiberias. And a large crowd was following him, because they saw the signs that he was doing on the sick. Jesus went up on the mountain, and there he sat down with his disciples. Now the Passover, the feast of the Jews, was at hand. Lifting up his eyes, then, and seeing that a large crowd was coming toward him, Jesus said to Philip, ‘Where are we to buy bread, so that these people may eat?’ He said this to test him, for he himself knew what he would do” (John 6:1-6 ESV).

He said this to test him. The Greek word translated here as test is the same word translated elsewhere as tempt or temptation. “No temptation has overtaken you that is not common to man” (1 Corinthians 10:13) uses the same word. So you could read it: no testing has overtaken you that is not common. Jesus was testing Philip, and He Himself already knew what He would do.

Psalm 66:10-12 speaks to this: “For you, O God, have tested us; you have tried us as silver is tried. You brought us into the net; you laid a crushing burden on our backs; you let men ride over our heads; we went through fire and through water; yet you have brought us out to a place of abundance.”

Every circumstance in life, every hardship, has a lesson in it. And I’ll tell you, I’m telling you the answer without claiming I’ve always passed the test. The answer is surrender. Not arrangement. Not management. Surrender. I prayed once about something I desperately did not want to happen, and finally said, “But Lord, if this is what You want, I surrender.” Not an hour later, the thing I had feared happened. And I felt a tap on the shoulder: “You said you surrendered.” Anything that passes into your life has passed through His hand first. That is not a statement about God causing evil. It is a statement about sovereignty. And that sovereignty is our security.

The Bread of Life

John doesn’t just record the miracle and move on. He records what Jesus said afterward, because every material thing points to a spiritual truth.

“The Jews then grumbled about him, because he said, ‘I am the bread that came down from heaven.’ They said, ‘Is not this Jesus, the son of Joseph, whose father and mother we know? How does he now say, I have come down from heaven?’ Jesus answered them, ‘Do not grumble among yourselves. No one can come to me unless the Father who sent me draws him. And I will raise him up on the last day’” (John 6:41-44 ESV).

“Truly, truly, I say to you, whoever believes has eternal life. I am the bread of life. Your fathers ate the manna in the wilderness, and they died. This is the bread that comes down from heaven, so that one may eat of it and not die. I am the living bread that came down from heaven. If anyone eats of this bread, he will live forever. And the bread that I will give for the life of the world is my flesh” (John 6:47-51 ESV).

And then He pressed further: “Truly, truly, I say to you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you have no life in you. Whoever feeds on my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise him up on the last day. For my flesh is true food, and my blood is true drink. Whoever feeds on my flesh and drinks my blood abides in me, and I in him” (John 6:53-56 ESV).

When I was dry and distant and saying, “Lord, I’m so empty, I cannot reach You,” I think of these words. The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. When I honestly examine my life against that list, I know when I am running on my own strength and when I am drawing on His.

There is a physical man and a spiritual man, and my spiritual man can go hungry while my physical man goes through the motions of religion. Daily reading without abiding. Faithful prayer without fellowship. Checking boxes while He stands just to the side, waiting to be let in. The times when the light comes, the times when I do feel close to God, are the times when I confess my emptiness and say, “God, I cannot reach You. Would You come to me? Give me this bread of life.”

The apostle Paul said it plainly: “I have been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me” (Galatians 2:20 ESV). That is the Christian life. Not a checklist. Not a performance. Not managing our behavior well enough to earn “Well done.” It is surrender. It is opening the hand to receive from Him and opening the hand to give what we receive. He giveth and giveth and giveth again.

Are you fully satisfied in your walk with Jesus? Not performing, not managing, but satisfied? If not, the invitation of the living bread still stands: come, eat, and never hunger again. He has provision enough for all. He who came down from heaven so that whoever feeds on Him will live forever still offers Himself, freely, abundantly, to every hungry soul who will receive Him. This is the bread that came down from heaven. Whoever eats of it will not die.