Summary: It's Bible verses we have heard many times but, in this day of politically correctness... the true meaning and purpose sometimes gets lost
Bible says in John 6:35 And Jesus said unto them, I am the bread of life: he that cometh to me shall never hunger;
Jesus also said in John 3:16 For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.
It's Bible verses we have heard many times but, in this day of politically correctness... the true meaning and purpose sometimes gets lost.
We cheer Jesus on in Matthew chapter 21 for coming into the temple and turning the tables over and rebuking them for using it as a market place. But, what about some of these temples or churches today? What about some of the ways the churches in America worship today? Are they sending people to Jesus the bread of life or to join their social club?
Should it be up to those church members or leaders that decide whether or not they fit in their church social club or family?
The message should always be what Jesus said; , I am the bread of life: he that cometh to me shall never hunger.
What happens when our message is not all about Jesus? It's not just the message that the preacher preaches. It's the mes-sage that we live! It's our personal message to lost and hungry souls. If we invite folks just to have a "worldly open house" and to show them buildings and activities that we have. Where does that leave the hungry for the bread of life?
It leaves them out in the cold. It leaves them weary of religion. It leaves them the same place as Jesus is, on the outside knocking on the door. Below is the best illustration I have come across to make this point. Entitled: "I just want bread."
There was a beggar who came and sat before a baker. "I want bread," he said.
"How wise you are," the baker assured him. "Bread is what you need. And you have come to the right bakery." So he pulled his cookbook down from his shelf and began to tell the beggar all he knew about bread.
He spoke of flour and wheat, of grain and barley. The baker's knowledge impressed even himself as he cited the measure-ments and recipe. When he looked up, he was surprised to see that the beggar wasn't smiling. "I just want bread," he said.
"How wise you are." The baker applauded his choice. "Follow me, and I'll show you our bakery." Down the hallowed halls he guided him, pausing to point out the rooms where the dough is prepared and the ovens where the bread is baked.
"No one has such facilities. We have bread for every need. But here is the best part," he proclaimed as he pushed open two swinging doors. "This is our room of inspiration."
The baker knew the beggar was moved as they stepped into the auditorium full of stained-glass windows. The beggar didn't speak. The baker understood his silence. With his arm around his shoulder, he whispered, "It overwhelms me as well."
Then the baker leaped to the podium and struck his favorite pose behind the lectern. "People come from miles to hear me speak. Once a week my workers gather, and I read to them the recipe from the cookbook of life."
By now the beggar had taken a seat on the front row. The baker knew what he wanted. "Would you like to hear me?"
"No," he said, "but I would like some bread."
"How wise you are," The baker replied. And he led him to the front door of the bakery. "What I have to say next is very important," he told him as they stood outside. "Up and down this street you will find many bakeries. But take heed; they don't serve the true bread. I know of one who adds two spoons of salt rather than one. I know of another whose oven is three degrees too hot. They may call it bread," the baker warned, "but it's not according to the book."
The beggar turned and began walking away. "Don't you want bread?" the baker asked him. He stopped, looked back, and shrugged, "I guess I lost my appetite."
The baker shook his head and returned to his office. "What a shame," he said to himself. "The world just isn't hungry for true bread anymore."
Love in Christ Jesus, Ronnie Miller