The Work God Requires

“The Work God Requires”

Scriptures: John 6:25-39

Pastor Mark Bartsch

Kobe Union Church

28 September 2025

Last Sunday we looked at Jesus feeding hungry people in the desert; today is the continuation of that story.

After being fed, the crowd was excited—you would be too. I went to Costco a while ago and they were giving away free samples of steak. Just a taste, and the line was super long. Some people even got back in line for another piece. Food is a good motivator. But Jesus hadn’t given them just a taste—He gave them a full meal. With five small barley loaves and two fish, He fed over five thousand people. No one left hungry; in fact, they collected twelve baskets of leftovers.

The crowd thought they knew what this meant: “Here is our king, our prophet! He can feed us and protect us.” But Jesus slipped away. Why? Because they wanted the wrong kind of bread.

I know what bread I should eat—but do I always choose it? Do I go for the bread that satisfies, or do I grab the donut? (Chocolate with cream inside—that’s my weakness.) If you want to know what really satisfies, just go to Galatians 5:22–23: the fruit of the Spirit—love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. If you’re choosing from that menu, you’ll go away satisfied.

Jesus knew the people’s hearts, so He withdrew to a mountain to pray, to spend time with God. Here’s a lesson for us: before He performed another miracle or taught a crowd, Jesus spent time with His Father.

How are you doing in your prayer life? Your “mountain” might be a crowded train, your daily walk, or picking up the kids from school. Wherever it is, talk to God—but also listen for what He wants to say to you.

Seeking the Wrong Thing

When the crowd finally found Jesus the next morning, they asked, “Rabbi, when did you get here?” Notice—Jesus doesn’t answer their question. He doesn’t say, “Well, I was praying on that hill, then I thought I wanted to be with my guys, so I walked across the water, scared the disciples half to death (you should have seen their faces—it was really funny), and then I got into the boat and we came here to the other side.”

That is what happened, but some things are not for everyone to know. Jesus doesn’t indulge their curiosity. Instead, He goes straight to their motives: Why are you here? Because motives matter.

We all have motives. Most of mine are fairly pure, but I remember as a young pastor one of my impure motives was simply to preach well. You might say, “That doesn’t sound so bad.” But the truth is, I didn’t want to preach well for Jesus as much as I didn’t want to look like a fool. I had to grow in that area and give that motive to Jesus.

I think Paul wrestled with that too, but he came out the other side when he told the Corinthian church that he was willing to be a fool for Christ (1 Cor. 4:10). It took me time to reach the point where I was willing to be foolish if that’s what it took to be effective for Christ.

Jesus sees their motives. He tells them they’re seeking Him not because they understood the meaning of the miracle, but because they ate the bread and were filled. Their stomachs had driven them to Him. This is a timeless human problem: we seek God for what He can do for us, not for who He is.

But Jesus always pointed to a deeper, lasting need. That’s why He says in verse 27:

“Do not work for food that spoils, but for food that endures to eternal life, which the Son of Man will give you. On Him God the Father has placed His seal of approval.”

This is the ultimate seal of approval. Remember, at both Jesus’ baptism and the transfiguration, God declared His approval: “This is my Son, whom I love; with Him I am well pleased.” At the transfiguration, God even adds, “Listen to Him.” If that isn’t a seal of approval, I don’t know what is.

I remember once going to interview at a university. I walked in, shook the man’s hand, and he said I had the job. I asked, “Don’t you want to interview me?” He said, “No, I trust the person who recommended you.”

But we waste so much time striving after things that do not satisfy. Why do we do that? Why do we waste hours—especially late at night—on things that don’t give us true rest?

I often come back to this: something in the human condition is broken, and only God can fix it. Everything earthly wears out—our youth, our possessions, our achievements. We put so much effort into things that don’t last.  But as Isaiah 55:2 asks: “Why spend money on what is not bread, and your labor on what does not satisfy?”

Work

Jesus brings up the topic of the work God requires, so I’d like to talk a little about work.

We might imagine that before sin entered the garden, Adam and Eve were on a perpetual holiday. Maybe it even felt that way at times—but God gave His children work even in Eden. He put Adam “in the Garden of Eden to work it and take care of it” (Genesis 2:15). This wasn’t punishment. It was a gift—a purpose. They were given meaningful work that brought joy and satisfaction. It was a beautiful collaboration with God, a way to participate in His creation.

The difference between Genesis 2 and Genesis 3 is striking. After the fall, when sin entered the world, the ground was cursed, and Adam’s work became a struggle. The ground would now produce thorns and thistles alongside wheat, and he would have to labor “by the sweat of his brow” (Genesis 3:17–19). Work went from being a gift to being a grind.

So when the people ask Jesus what work they must do to earn God’s love, what they really want is a checklist—some steps to secure a relationship with God by their own effort. But of course, we know from Ephesians 2:8–9 that salvation is not earned:

“For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God—not a result of works, so that no one may boast.”

They wanted a list of do’s and don’ts instead of a relationship. But Jesus doesn’t give it. He doesn’t say, “Wake up at 4 a.m., pray for three hours, and follow this list of rules.” That was the Pharisees’ mindset. Any meaningful work in the kingdom of God is never about earning salvation—it is always a response to salvation.

Have you ever heard the phrase, “putting the cart before the horse”? When we put works before faith, that’s exactly what we’re doing.

There’s really only one time when Jesus gives a radical, specific command to someone asking how to follow Him. It’s the story of the rich young ruler (Matthew 19; Mark 10; Luke 18). This wealthy young man asks Jesus what he must do to inherit eternal life. Jesus tells him to sell everything, give to the poor, and then come follow Him.

I don’t believe this was a universal command for everyone, but it was Jesus’ word for this man. Why? Because his wealth was the very thing standing between him and God. It was his stumbling block. The lesson is clear: if something is blocking your relationship with God, Jesus will ask you to let it go before you follow Him. Most of the time, Jesus doesn’t give a task. He simply says: “Come, follow me.”

To the crowd, His reply is almost shockingly simple: “The work of God is this: to believe in the One He has sent.”

That’s one of Jesus’ exclusive claims that makes us uncomfortable. We want options. But Jesus says the option is this: decide whether He is the One. If He is, follow Him—period.

The most important thing God asks of us isn’t just to do for Him—it’s to be with Him. I’ll say that again: Jesus isn’t as interested in what you can do as He is in being in relationship with you. And once that relationship is alive, the Holy Spirit naturally leads us into action—whatever that may look like.

Of course, many people think being a Christian means doing good things: feeding the poor, helping the sick, sharing our faith. And those are good things! But they are not the first thing. If they become the first thing, burnout is inevitable. Duty replaces joy. I promise you—if I see pastoring this church as just as a duty Sunday after Sunday with no joy, I’ll walk away. Not for my benefit, but for yours.

Our first calling is to stay close to Jesus. That’s the source. When His love and peace fill us, good works stop feeling like chores/labors and start flowing naturally, almost effortlessly. A friend of mine who golfs says it’s like hitting the ball on the sweet spot and watching it sail farther with almost no effort. Our “sweet spot” is believing in the One. Notice Jesus doesn’t say His name here—He makes us decide.

The real “work” is to be with God—and from that connection, to respond to the world around us. People sometimes ask me what I do. I might say, “I’m a teacher,” “a missionary,” or “a pastor.” All true. But those are jobs. My main work is to believe—not in myself, but in the One God has sent.

Because God has set His seal—His signet ring—on Jesus. He declared, “This is my Son, whom I love.” And notice carefully: Jesus says “the One.” Not “a choice among many,” but the One. God’s seal of approval rests on Jesus alone.

And believing in Him isn’t passive—it’s hard work. Why? Because we humans love to keep our options open. But faith means laying those options down. Still, this is not work powered by our effort—it’s fueled by grace. As Ephesians 2:8–9 reminds us:

“It is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this not from yourselves, it is the gift of God—not by works.”

Even after this, the crowd still doesn’t get it. They ask for another sign. So Jesus presses deeper and makes the first of His seven great “I AM” statements in John’s Gospel:

“I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never go hungry” (John 6:35).

Yesterday He filled their stomachs; now He says He can fill their souls.

That’s the point. Jesus Himself is the nourishment our souls long for. And the primary “work” God calls us to is simply this: come to Him.

I AM

From the very beginning, God gave humanity work as a gift. In Eden, Adam was invited into a partnership with God—tending the garden, cultivating beauty, bringing order out of creation’s raw potential. Work was meant to be joyful, life-giving, and full of meaning. But after sin entered the world, that gift became a grind. Work was twisted into toil. The ground resisted, thorns and thistles grew, and humanity began to struggle—not just against creation, but against the burden of trying to prove ourselves.

That’s where works-righteousness sneaks in. Instead of resting in God’s gift, we keep trying to earn His favor, as if salvation were another job on our checklist. But Jesus interrupts that striving. He says, “The work of God is this: to believe in the One He has sent.”

Think about that: the hardest work is not sweating in the fields, not piling up good deeds, not endless striving—it’s letting go of our pride and trusting in God. Faith is surrender. And surrender does not come easily to us. We would rather do, than trust. We would rather achieve, than receive.

And yet, Jesus insists: your deepest work is to believe in me.

Then He takes it a step further. He doesn’t just point to the gift; He declares Himself to be the gift. “I am the bread of life.” Those words echo the very name of God revealed to Moses at the burning bush: “I AM WHO I AM.” The same eternal, self-existent God now stands before the crowd in human flesh, saying: “I am the One who created you. I am the One who sustains you. I am the One who gives you life.”

The crowd wanted bread that would fill their stomachs for a day. But Jesus offers bread that fills the soul for eternity.  And here’s the dividing line: some were willing to receive, like the Samaritan woman at the well, who laid down her pride and drank deeply of the living water. But others, like the crowd of 5,000, grumbled and walked away. They wanted to line up at Costco to get another bit of meat, not a Messiah. They wanted a sign, not a Savior.

So here’s the question for us today: which will we be?

Will we be like the crowd—content with temporary comfort, chasing after what spoils, satisfied with religion but missing the relationship? Or will we be like the woman at the well—honest about our thirst, willing to lay down pride, and ready to receive living water that changes everything?

For your own soul’s sake, come to Jesus. Receive Him as the true bread. Let Him be the One who sustains you when the grind of life wears you down. Let Him be the One who fills you when nothing else satisfies. Let Him be the joy that turns duty into delight.

This morning, as we leave this place, remember: Christianity is not another job to add to your schedule. It is not another burden to carry. Jesus isn’t offering you one more thing to do. He is offering you life. He is offering Himself.

The Father’s will is clear: “that everyone who looks to the Son and believes in Him shall have eternal life” (John 6:40). That is the promise. That is the invitation.

So where are you today? Still chasing after another sign? Still striving to prove yourself? Still hungering for bread that never fills? Or are you ready to come to the great I AM, the Bread of Life, who alone can satisfy?

That is the work God requires: to believe in the One He has sent. Everything else flows from there.

Let’s pray.

Discussion Questions

The Problem of Temporary Satisfaction

• The message contrasts the crowd's desire for physical bread with Jesus' offer of "the bread of life." What are some things in your life that you "work for" that are like the temporary bread?

The True "Work" God Requires

• The message states that believing in Jesus isn't passive, but hard work because we have to "lay down our options." What does it mean for you to lay down your options and trust in Jesus alone?

Relationship vs. Checklist

• The writing explains that God gave Adam and Eve "work" as a gift, not a punishment. How can you approach your own work—whether it's your job, school, or family responsibilities—as a gift from God, rather than a grind?

• The passage mentions that if "good works" become the first thing, joy can be replaced by duty, leading to burnout. How do you maintain a balance between doing good things and staying close to Jesus as your primary source of joy?