Tabehodai: The Bread of Life
- Sep 21
- 10 min read

"Tabehodai: The Bread of Life"
John 6:1-21
Rev. Mark Bartsch
Kobe Union Church
September 21, 2025
Have you ever felt like you did not get enough. Not enough praise.
Not enough love. Not enough respect. That you are stuck in the wilderness with out even 5 loaves or 2 fishes. And to make matters worse everyone around you (especially on social media) has life in abundance. If you feel that way it is not unusual. Actually, I think that is the purpose of Social Media to make you feel like you don’t have enough. Than this message is for you. If you are in that wilderness and if you have Jesus with you trust him you will be all right. I know I have been in the wilderness with and without Jesus and being with him makes all the difference.
My first New Year's in Japan was a crash course in preparation. Stephanie had warned me, "Everything will be closed for days. We have to stock up." I didn't believe her, but she was right. Back in 1991, everything shut down for four to five days. Supermarkets, drugstores, and convenience stores were not as common then, but even they closed for two to three days.
In John 6, the disciples faced a similar problem. Passover was coming, a time like Christmas and New Year rolled into one—a time of family, celebration, and travel, when all the shops were closed. The crowds had followed Jesus into the wilderness, completely unprepared. They were sheep without a shepherd.
And let's be honest, most of us feel unprepared for our journey with God. That is a good thing. The disciples certainly weren't ready, but the good news is, Jesus was. He was ready for the crowds, for the disciples, and for us.
The Impossible Question
I don't know about you, but I've always been tempted to find a logical explanation for Jesus's miracles. We hear a story like the feeding of the five thousand and my minds start asking, "Did that really happen? How?" Maybe he just diluted the wine at Cana (that doesn't make sense if we take the account seriously). Maybe the people shared their hidden food (but then why were they hungry?). We think that if we can explain away the miracles, we don't have to wonder why they don't happen in our own lives, or happen when we most want them to. After hearing many preachers try to explain the miracles, God has led me to trust that they happened and to trust the miracles that God has done in my life and in the lives of those I know and love.
Trying to explain the miracles leads us to miss the point of the story itself. The point isn't to wonder how it happened, or for some even if it happened, but to understand what the story is trying to teach us.
As a teacher, I hate asking students questions that I know they don't have the answers to. It just makes them feel small. I had a terrible math teacher who only asked kids questions he thought they didn't know the answer to, just to embarrass them. I disliked this and vowed not to do that as a teacher.
So when Jesus asks Philip a question at this point, Jesus thinks that Philip has enough information to answer the question. Jesus looked at the hungry crowd, turned to Philip, and said: "Where shall we buy bread for these people to eat?"
John tells us why Jesus asked this: "He asked this only to test him, for he already had in mind what he was going to do." Jesus wasn't setting Philip up for failure; he was setting him up for revelation. He wanted to show Philip that his own limited resources weren't the point—God's limitless power was.
And Philip's response was exactly what you'd expect: "Eight months' wages wouldn't buy enough bread for each one to have a bite!" In other words, "It's impossible." Philip does not yet understand who Jesus is, even after the healings and miracles he has already seen Jesus perform.
Philip saw the limitations. I don't have enough time. I don't have enough skill. I don't have enough money. He saw the problem not the possibility. The Bible is filled with impossible moments: a sea parting, a shepherd boy striking down a giant, a virgin giving birth to the Savior. When God calls, impossibility becomes an opportunity. It is a lesson I have learned and am still learning.
Five Loaves, Two Fish
Philip’s doubt is met by Andrew’s half-hopeful, half-skeptical comment: “Here’s a boy with five small barley loaves and two small fish—but how far will they go among so many?” (You can hear the sarcasm in that.) At least one boy was prepared with his lunch, but Andrew still points out the obvious: “It’s not enough.” And isn’t that how we feel when life throws us problems bigger than our resources?
Some have speculated that the five loaves symbolize Jesus referring back to the Torah, the first five books of the Bible, and also represent the manna that God provided for the people in the wilderness. Or it might just mean that the mother gave her son five loaves of bread. I do not know.
The story of the feeding of the five thousand says: Jesus is about feeding hungry people. It’s a story that shows how God can work with the meager, insignificant offerings of ordinary people to do great things. It reminds us that when you’ve got almost nothing to give, God can use that if you give it to him in faith. With Jesus, what looks ruined or insufficient can become provision. I call it the little drummer boy principle.
I want to share a story about my grandparents. They were missionaries in Congo. As Europeans living in Africa at that time, they faced hardships. One thing they missed dearly was access to flour. They once received a shipment of flour from supporting European churches, and when they got it they were so excited. But after opening it, they found it was infested with weevils. As poor missionaries, they had no access to flour in those days, and now what they had hoped for was ruined. They had received three barrels, and each one was full of weevils.
My grandmother was a woman who had known suffering, who had suffered through sickness and losing all her teeth, but this time she broke down and wept. Then, as she prayed, she felt God give her an idea: she would spread the flour on white sheets in the hot sun, hoping the weevils would crawl away from the heat. She did so and then went back to her chores.
When she checked an hour later, her heart sank again. The sheets were now covered with millions of black ants swarming all over the flour. She cried, and again she prayed. After getting herself together, she got ready to throw it all away. But after some time, she went back—and to her astonishment, the ants were gone. So were the weevils. All that was left was pure, white flour. God had sent a feast of weevils to those black ants and left her the pure white flour.
She used that flour first to make communion bread before baking bread for the family.
Can you imagine if she had given up and thrown the flour away after seeing the weevils or the ants—instead of waiting for God to finish his work? Too often we say, “It’s not enough. It’s ruined. It’s too late.” Too often we say that about ourselves or other people. We give up on God when he is still in the middle of a miracle. We know we are the people that Jesus chastises by saying, “O ye of little faith.”
As Isaiah 40:31 reminds us: “They that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength.” I’ll say it again—not for your benefit, but for mine: “They that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength.” And the verse goes on to tell us that those who wait on God “shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint.”
With God, our weaknesses and broken places are what he loves to use. As 2 Cor 12:9–10 says, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness… For when I am weak, then I am strong.”
It seems like God’s favorite thing is to take something broken, worthless, or empty—and make it a vessel for his glory. Why does God do that? He does it so we will not puff up ourselves to trick ourselves into the lie that we did it on our own. We rewrite our history and leave ourselves as the star not the Lord.
God used Sarah, who could not bear children, to be the mother of a nation. He used Moses, an exile, to lead his people out of Egypt. And when it came time to save the world, God did not conquer with power and might, but by sending his Son to die on a cross.
Back to the story. In John 6:10, Jesus tells the crowd to sit down. That’s a radical gesture. In that culture (and in mine, too), telling someone to sit down meant you were about to feed them. But before he fed them, he took the boy’s small gift—five loaves and two fish, the simple food of the poor—and gave thanks.
This wasn’t a luxury banquet; it was a kingdom feast for ordinary, hungry people.
My mother used to say, “Hunger is the best seasoning.” When I would come home from school and say I was starving, she would reply, “Great, because dinner will taste great.” And that day the people were hungry—not just for food, but for the Bread of Life. As Jesus later said in John 6:35: “I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never go hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty.” They needed more than barley loaves and fish; they needed Jesus himself. We need more than physical loaves of bread and fishes; we need Jesus.
And that’s still how Jesus works. He meets us where we are, takes what we have—no matter how small—and makes it enough.
The Abundance of God’s Kingdom
After everyone had eaten their fill, Jesus told the disciples, “Gather the pieces that are left over. Let nothing be wasted.” They collected twelve baskets—one for each of the twelve tribes of Israel, and one for each of the twelve disciples.
Think about that. The disciples left that morning uncertain and worried. They had no food for the crowd, and likely none for themselves. And even if they had the money to buy food, there was nowhere to get it or buy it. Yet after they did their part—passing out the bread and fish—they were the ones who gathered the leftovers. Each disciple walked away with a full basket in his hands.
That’s a powerful picture of God’s kingdom. When we step out in faith and give what little we have to Jesus, he doesn’t just provide for others—he also takes care of us personally. He makes sure the ones who serve also receive, receive more than we can ask for or even imagine.
But here’s the tragedy: the crowd saw the miracle but missed the message. They enjoyed the gift but overlooked the Giver. They wanted to crown Jesus as a political king, not realizing he had come to be the Bread of Life. If we’re honest, we often do the same—we enjoy God’s blessings, but we struggle to trust his will and way in our lives. As a pastor, people have often asked me to preach politics—their side, of course. I tried not to be political in my preaching, supporting one side over another. I know I have disappointed some on both sides. I know people have gone to other churches because they want a political rally. Democrats good Republicans bad. Or Republicans good Democrats bad. To look at US politics. Instead, I will focus on Jesus and the Word of God. I know political pastors on the right and left and I can send you to them, but those messages will tickle your ears but leave you hungry. They will not satisfy. Only Jesus will.
It’s not enough to just say you love Jesus. You must also trust him with the “loaves and fish” of your life. Two weeks ago, we had a discussion in Sunday school about whether you can have love without trust? And I don’t think so. Whatever you think is too small, too broken, or too insignificant—God can multiply it for his glory and for the good of others. You need to trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own opinions. Your job is not to figure out how God does it but to accept that he can and does do it.
The story of the five loaves and two fish is not just about bread—it is about Jesus himself. He is the Bread of Life. He is the one who satisfies our deepest hunger, not just for food, but for meaning, love, forgiveness, and hope.
Maybe today you feel like you don’t have enough—enough strength, enough love, enough faith. Maybe all you have feels broken, too small, or too late. But the good news is this: in the hands of Jesus, it is enough. He takes the little we offer and multiplies it beyond anything we could imagine.
The crowd saw bread; Jesus wanted them to see the Bread of Life. Don’t miss the Giver for the gift. Don’t settle for a full stomach when God offers a full life.
So I’ll leave you with this question: what small gift will you place in Jesus’ hands this week? What “five loaves and two fish” do you have to trust him with? Because when you do, you’ll discover that the baskets are never empty, his grace is never exhausted, and his promise is always true: “I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never go hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty.”
Discussion Questions
Philip looked at the crowd and said, “It’s impossible.” Andrew looked at the boy’s lunch and said, “It’s not enough.” When have you looked at your own life and felt the same way? How does Jesus challenge us to see our limitations differently?
The story of your grandmother’s flour shows that sometimes God is still at work even when things look ruined. Where in your life do you need to keep waiting and trusting instead of giving up too soon?
Jesus took the boy’s simple food—five loaves and two fish—and turned it into a feast. What might be the “five loaves and two fish” in your life—your time, talents, or testimony—that God could multiply if you placed it fully in his hands?
The crowd enjoyed the gift but missed the Giver. How can we guard against focusing only on God’s blessings while missing his deeper purpose in our lives?





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