Rev Harry Newton preaches on John 6:1–15 at Sumner Redcliffs Anglican Church
A sermon exploring the feeding of the five thousand and what it reveals about why people follow Jesus.
Summary
Rev Harry Newton, Vicar of Sumner Redcliffs Anglican Church, preaches on John 6:1–15 — the feeding of the five thousand — as part of an ongoing series in the Gospel of John. He opens by situating the passage within John's unusual structure and its relationship to the other three gospel accounts, before drawing out the Jewish theological significance of the two miracles: the feeding in the wilderness and the walking on water. The central argument of the sermon is that the crowd in the passage followed Jesus for the wrong reason — for what he could give them rather than for who he is — and that this same misdirected desire is a live challenge for contemporary believers and seekers alike. Newton concludes with a direct invitation: whether someone has followed Jesus for years or never started, the call is to come to Jesus for who he is, not merely for what he can provide.
Key Takeaways
FULL TRANSCRIPT
Welcome and Introduction to John's Gospel
Rev Harry Newton: My name's Harry. Welcome to church. If we haven't met before, I'm the minister here, so good to be with you today.
Today's reading is from one of four accounts of the Jesus story. It's from the Gospel of John. We've got Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John, and they all tell the stories of Jesus' life, death, and resurrection. And John is a bit weird. He really is. I'll be honest — out of the four accounts, it's my least favourite. It's very weird.
It's in three parts. Part one is only the first 18 or so verses of chapter one. It's called the prologue. Then right through to the end of chapter 12, it's what's called the Book of Signs. Funnily enough, there's another sign today that's outside of the Book of Signs proper, but it's still considered part of that section. And then from chapter 13 through to chapter 20, we have what's called the Book of Glory. With me so far?
And then if you really want to get technical, there's a fourth part — the last chapter — which is the post-resurrection appearance of Jesus. Now, he structured it that way on purpose. The Book of Signs covers approximately three years of Jesus' life and ministry, and this story, even though it's just outside of that section, is part of that period. When we get into the Book of Glory, John zooms in on the last 72 hours of Jesus' life. So you have about half of his book dedicated to just 72 hours.
In the parts where he's telling us about the life and ministry of Jesus, we have something called the Bread of Life discourse — which is a fancy way of saying the bit we just heard. It's about Jesus talking about who he is: "I am the bread of life." This is all about the identity of Jesus.
The Feeding of the Five Thousand
And it all kicks off at the beginning of this chapter that we just heard from, where Jesus feeds about 5,000-odd people. There's a bit of a back and forth — they're saying, oh, we'd need a whole bunch of money to buy food, we don't know what to do, maybe just send them away — and then it culminates in Andrew, one of Jesus' twelve disciples, stepping forward and saying, "Here is a boy with five small barley loaves and two small fish, but how far will they go?"
To which Jesus replies, "Have the people sit down." And he takes the loaves, he gives thanks, he distributes them to those seated — as much as they wanted, we're told. He does the same with the fish. And when they'd had enough to eat, the disciples filled twelve baskets with the pieces of five barley loaves left over by those who had eaten.
Great yarn, hey? Sounds a little far-fetched. And if you struggle to believe it, you're not alone. People have tried to explain this away — oh, the real miracle is that everyone actually had food all along and had been selfish, and they brought their own little lunch boxes out of their bags and they all kind of just shared, and that's why there was lots of food left over.
The whole Christian faith is predicated on miracles. If you struggle with miracles, that's understandable — I totally get it. But the whole faith is predicated on a miracle. So if we assume that miracles, even though they are very few and far between, could happen, then this is a miracle.
And evidently it was hard to believe — not just for people reading about it years later, but also for those who were there on the day. We're told the crowd, when they'd eaten their fill and seen the baskets of leftovers, began to mutter among themselves. And people, I think, often miss this part: did you notice the bit where they try to kidnap Jesus? Did you notice that? They try to grab Jesus and forcibly crown him king.
So what does Jesus do? He withdraws to a mountain by himself. And then Jesus' disciples evidently have no idea where he was. It gets to nighttime, and they kind of hop into their boat and quietly sneak off, leaving the crowd behind. They hop in their boat and off they go. They get about halfway across the lake — about three miles out — and then a big wind whips up.
Walking on Water and Its Significance
When we read the story across the four different Jesus accounts, we get lots of details about what happened. The boat's getting swamped. They're straining at the oars. They're struggling. And then Jesus appears, walking on the water. Peter — if you know the story — hops out of the boat to go walk with Jesus, starts to sink, Jesus catches him, climbs into the boat, calms the storm. Everyone's happy. They go on to where they're going. Epic story, right?
Clearly important to the early church — so much so that it's one of the few Jesus stories recorded in all four gospel accounts. Matthew, Mark, and Luke are what we call the synoptic gospels. That means they tell the Jesus story in a similar pattern, similar language, in a similar order. There are a few bits and pieces that are different, but as a general rule of thumb, they follow the same material. They also share a large chunk of their content — sixty-something percent of Mark is quoted verbatim across the other two gospels. That's a lot.
There's also a fifth source. We call it Q. It comes from a German word that starts with Q that I can't pronounce, but it's essentially a lost version of the Jesus stories that we no longer have. We know it existed because it's quoted at length in both Matthew and Luke. So Matthew and Luke base a lot of their content off Mark and off this missing gospel account.
With me so far? Now, John's weird. It's completely strange. I don't like John — it's my least favourite out of the four. It's really esoteric and a bit bizarre. But he only has 8% crossover of his content with the other three gospel accounts. Interesting, eh? And when he does cross over, the content isn't word for word the same. Where Matthew, Luke, and Mark all cross over, you'll literally find bits where it's almost like someone's copied and pasted in a Word document — but it's not like that with John. He's completely different.
Yet when he does tell us something, we know it's significant. And these two stories — the feeding of the five thousand and the walking on water — are two of the very few stories accounted by John and by the synoptics. Why? Because they're important. Because for John, they tell us something important about who Jesus is.
The Jewish Echoes: Moses and the Wilderness
To his Jewish disciples, these signs would have echoed some of the most defining moments in their collective history. Who's heard of Moses? Great. If you haven't heard of Moses — grumpy old fella who got in a bit of trouble back in the day — not quite. He was a prophet who was chosen by God to lead the Israelites out of slavery in Egypt. They go out of Egypt, out into the wilderness, and for forty years they wander about before arriving in the Promised Land. I'm doing a very quick, tongue-in-cheek summary.
While they're in the wilderness — who here has been in the wilderness before? Did you get hungry? What happens when you're tramping and you run out of food? It sucks, right? I remember when I was a soldier being out in the middle of what we call Zone Zero in Waiouru and had no food, and it was sub-zero. My pants literally froze shut. Not pleasant. And when they turn up with that slop they call powdered eggs — it's literally sachets that they mix with boiling water and it turns into an egg-like substance full of fake protein — it's delicious. It's delicious because you're hungry.
But they didn't have it back in the day. And so when they got into the wilderness, they started to starve. And the people turned to Moses and said, "Moses, feed us." And then he interceded with God on their behalf. And what turned up? Something called manna — a flaky substance on the ground that they ate, a bit like bread. And then what else turned up? Quails. And they ate the quails.
So you have Moses who is leading the people in the wilderness, who is teaching in the wilderness, and then feeds God's people in the wilderness. What does Jesus do? He leads people into the wilderness, he teaches in the wilderness, and he feeds them miraculously in the wilderness. We see a clear parallel here between Jesus and Moses.
The Ocean, Chaos, and the Spirit of God
The other thing that happens is this walking on water. In the Old Testament — the old Jewish scriptures before Jesus — right back at the first book of the Bible, Genesis: does anyone remember how it describes the world before creation? Formless, chaotic, dark. Ancient Jewish people did not like the ocean. They weren't really seagoers, not proper seafarers. They had this whole fear of the ocean. Why? Because the ocean can be chaotic, can't it?
I remember years ago when I moved to New Zealand, my dad got a boat. We went off the Kāpiti Coast — which, if you know Kāpiti, is the most placid ocean in the world, until it's not. We got out there, and we had a guy called Teriora Crane — he was a huge Tongan fella, massive — sitting on the back of the boat, and the boat's doing this. And he's going, "I'm gonna die, Dave, I'm gonna die, I'm gonna die." And my dad goes, "Harry, take him out." So I tackled him off the back of the boat — it was awesome. And then I had to swim back to the shore with a life jacket, and it was scary. I got thrown around and got dunked. My dad said afterwards it was probably the stupidest thing he ever asked me to do. It was. It was dangerous.
The ocean is chaotic and it is dangerous and it's uncontrollable. And yet, as Debs just reminded us, what happens right back at the beginning of Genesis is God's Spirit comes and hovers above the waters and brings calm, brings order, brings life and creation. It brings goodness.
What's Jesus doing? Going out onto the chaotic, watery depths — and then, almost like the Holy Spirit hovered, he walks. What does he do, like the Holy Spirit? He brings calm and goodness. Do you see the parallels here?
We might not be Jewish, and we might miss some of this, but in both these stories, Jesus is doing what, from a Jewish perspective, only God can do. They aren't just bold miracles. They're bold claims about who Jesus is.
The Crowd Seeks Jesus for the Wrong Reason
And so John, our author, having made these epic claims about Jesus' identity, writes and says this: the next day — remember, the disciples had snuck away and left the crowds behind — once the crowds realised that neither Jesus nor his disciples were there, they got into boats and went to Capernaum in search of Jesus. When they found him on the other side of the lake, they asked him, "Rabbi" — that means teacher — "when did you get here?"
And Jesus answered, "Very truly I tell you, you are looking for me not because you saw the signs I performed, but because you ate the loaves and had your fill."
And right there, I reckon, we see the story culminate in an interaction that's relevant to you and me, regardless of our spiritual orientation. Because these people have seen Jesus do the impossible. They've seen Jesus do all sorts of things that push the bounds of credulity — things that from a Jewish perspective can only be done by God. They've heard him preach with authority. He's challenged the corrupt Jewish religious leaders. He's healed children. Just this morning, I was doing my Bible reading early down at the other church in Redcliffs, and the story set for this morning was Jesus healing a child — a little boy — for no reason other than he wanted to.
He also turned water into wine — 732 bottles of plonk. That's what my wife did the math on. It's roughly that much. That's a lot of wine, and apparently it was good. Then he made a man who had been paralysed for 38 years walk. He miraculously fed over 5,000 people, and then to top it all off, he walks onto the ocean and calms the farm.
And yet, rather than seek Jesus because of who he might be, Jesus says: "You are looking for me not because you saw the signs I performed, but because you ate the loaves and had your fill." In other words, they've sought him out for what they can get out of him.
Misdirected Desire — Then and Now
Right there, I think we see the issue at the heart of our passage: misdirected desire. The crowd was chasing after Jesus not because they'd grasped who he is, but because they wanted more of what he could do for them. They wanted more miracles. They wanted more signs. They wanted more food — which is entirely understandable if you're a first-century peasant living at the poverty line — and they wanted immediate help. But they had missed the point of his actions.
The signs weren't simply displays of miraculous, Marvel-like powers. They were invitations to belief. But instead of looking through the miracle to see who Jesus is, they fixated on the benefits of it. They got it around the wrong way. And their vision ended up shrinking — focusing on the immediate and the material felt needs rather than on the eternal and relational elements.
And I think that is a challenge that we all face today to some degree. Because we're not that different from the crowd. We like to think of ourselves as more enlightened and smarter than ancient peoples. But there is no evidence in psychological studies that we in any way have higher IQs than people back then. We're more educated, but they've actually done studies and they can't prove that our brains are in any way more advanced. We're not that different.
Often we approach faith, church, even prayer, with a mindset of: what is in this for me? I will only go to church if I get something out of it — if the music's good enough, or if there's a hot guy or girl there, or the preaching's just right, or it matches with my theology. I know it sounds a bit harsh, but this is a thing I hear occasionally. I'm not saying you're like this at all — you're all lovely. But it's a thing.
We also do the same thing with prayer. It's like a grocery list, isn't it? Lord, I'm going to pull out my list on my phone today. What do I need? I need this, this, this. Oh, Lotto would be nice. Thank you, Lord. What's in it for me? We want God to fix things. We want God to bless things. We want God to sort our things. We turn to God because we're hurting, in crisis, or desperate for something to change, and we hope he'll fix it.
And for the record, he will and he does. Jesus cares about our needs. But what he wants most is your heart. He wants you and me to follow him — not just for what he gives, but for who he is.
If you're in a healthy relationship, be it a friendship, a romantic relationship, or a marriage, you don't want the person to simply be with you because of what you can give them. That's not a healthy relationship, because eventually at some point you'll be found lacking and it'll be the end of the relationship. In a healthy relationship, you are there for who the person is. And it's the same with Jesus. He doesn't want you to follow him simply because of what he can give you, but for who he is.
Faith That Holds Under Pressure
And here's the risk. When our faith is built solely on what Jesus can do for us rather than who he actually is, it will not hold when things go awry. That kind of faith is incredibly fragile, and it will falter in suffering.
The amount of times I've heard people say, "I don't go to church anymore because this terrible thing happened to me and where was God?" At one level, I get it. Those of us who have been next to a spouse as they suffered, or have seen our business collapse, or faced financial ruin, or seen our kids make terrible decisions — we know what it's like in that moment to wonder those things. But here's the thing: Jesus never promised we wouldn't face hardship or suffering.
The kind of faith that is built solely on what Jesus can do for you rather than who he is will falter when you face significant suffering, and you'll end up running the risk of walking away when Jesus doesn't meet your expectations.
But the kind of faith that Jesus invites us into is deeper and grounded in a genuine, tangible relationship.
The Question: What Do You Look For in Jesus?
So here's my question for you, if you consider yourself a Jesus follower. If you don't, you get a free pass. But if you do consider yourself a Jesus follower, here's my question: what do you look for in Jesus?
Comfort? Answers? A spiritual high? Good vibes? A moral code? Those aren't bad things. They're actually all good things. But they're things that flow out of who Jesus is. They're not the reason we follow Jesus. We follow Jesus for who he is, and those things all flow out of that.
So like the crowd, do you want something — or do you want him?
And if you're here today and you're not really a church person, you don't consider yourself a follower of Jesus — well, awesome. You're more than welcome here, genuinely. But can I just ask: why? Why don't you follow him? What holds you back?
As we've discovered over the last few weeks, the case for following Jesus makes sense historically, it makes sense logically, it makes sense philosophically. What holds you back? Because for some people, that day in the crowd, this was the moment they tapped out. They'd seen the miracles, they'd heard the teaching, they'd eaten their bread — but when Jesus started speaking about things like belief, eternal life, surrender, and suffering, the line was: "This teaching is too hard." And they turned away.
Maybe you've done the same. Maybe you prayed and felt let down. Maybe you got church hurt. Maybe you've got doubts. Maybe you've got questions. Maybe you just never really saw the point of it all.
But let me gently suggest something. Maybe, just like the crowd, you've missed what was right in front of you. Maybe you misunderstood what Jesus came to do and what he actually came to offer.
What Jesus Actually Offers
Because Jesus didn't come to offer a magic fix to our problems. My little girl has significant health issues. I wish she would be healed. I've seen people be healed. She hasn't been. I wish God would heal her. But just because Jesus doesn't doesn't mean he doesn't care. He didn't come primarily to be the magic genie who fixes my problems. He didn't come simply to offer fast results, or spiritual highs, or a grocery list of answers when I need them.
What he does offer is himself — and that will change everything in your life.
When he responded to the crowd that morning — what I imagine was a cold morning — Jesus said, "Do not work for food that spoils, but for food that endures to eternal life, which the Son of Man" — which is a self-reference — "will give you."
In other words: stop chasing after things that won't last in life. Things that will leave you hungry and unsatisfied. You can go do yoga. You can go meditate. Or if you're in Christian circles, you can go attend worship events and praise nights until you're blue in the face. You can attend great conferences, a church service, experience all sorts of spiritual vibes — but they will not last.
Jesus isn't about simply sating our felt needs, as important as they are. He's about offering something much, much deeper — something eternal. A kind of soul satisfaction that you can't buy, fake, or manufacture.
The Simple Invitation: Believe
And so when the crowds heard him say all this, they responded by saying, "What must we do to do the work God requires?" In other words: what does God actually want from us?
And Jesus' answer is so brilliant. It's incredibly simple. He just says this: believe. Believe in me. Believe in the one he has sent. That's it. That's the starting point of finding true satisfaction in life — simple belief in the one God has sent into the world, so that we might know him in all his fullness, and know life in all its fullness.
Closing Challenge
So to bring this all together, I want to leave you with a simple question this morning. If you are a follower of Jesus — why? Why do you follow Jesus? Just be honest with yourself. It's not a negative thing. It's just something to think about. Why do you follow Jesus? Is it for what he can do for you, or is it because of who he is? Because that was at the heart of Jesus' challenge to the crowd that day. And I think it's a challenge he's putting before you and me this morning.
They followed him because he met an immediate felt need, but they missed the deeper invitation to know the one who gives more than bread, more than miracles, and more than temporary satisfaction.
And to those of you this morning who aren't sure what you believe, or where you stand on the whole God thing — maybe you just aren't really into the following Jesus thing right now — the question for you is equally important. Why not? What's holding you back? Because if Jesus really is who he says he is — not just a wise teacher, but the Son of God, the bread of life — then knowing him is worth everything.
Today is not about trying to earn anything, or getting Jesus to tick off all the requests on the grocery list. It's not about being perfect. It's simply about believing in the one that God has sent. Not just when life is good, not just when you get what you want, but because he alone can satisfy in a way that nothing else ever will.
So whether you've followed Jesus for years, or you've never really started, the invitation this morning is the same. Come to him — not just for what he can give you, but for who he is. Because when you do, you'll find that he is enough. He is more than enough. And you will genuinely, truly be satisfied.