John 6:66-71

These verses form a sorrowful conclusion to the famous discourse of Christ which occupies the greater part of the sixth chapter. They supply a melancholy proof of the hardness and corruption of man’s heart. Even when the Son of God was the preacher, many seem to have heard in vain.

Let us mark, in this passage, what an old sin backsliding is. We read that when our Lord had explained what He meant by “eating and drinking His flesh and blood,” “From that time many went back and walked no more with Him.”

The true grace of God no doubt is an everlasting possession. From this men never fall away entirely, when they have once received it. “The foundation of God standeth sure.” “My sheep shall never perish.” (2 Tim. 2:19; John 10:28) But there is counterfeit grace and unreal religion in the Church, wherever there is true; and from counterfeit grace thousands may and do fall away. Like the stony ground hearers, in the parable of the sower, many “have no root in themselves, and so in time of temptation fall away.” All is not gold that glitters. All blossoms do not come to fruit. All are not Israel which are called Israel. Men may have feelings, desires, convictions, resolutions, hopes, joys, sorrows in religion, and yet never have the grace of God. They may run well for a season, and bid fair to reach heaven, and yet break down entirely after a time, go back to the world, and end like Demas, Judas Iscariot, and Lot’s wife.

It must never surprise us to see and hear of such cases in our own days. If it happened in our Lord’s time, and under our Lord’s teaching, much more may we expect it to happen now. Above all, it must never shake our faith and discourage us in our course. On the contrary, we must make up our minds that there will be backsliders in the Church as long as the world stands. The sneering infidel, who defends his unbelief by pointing at them, must find some better argument than their example. He forgets that there will always be counterfeit coin where there is true money.

Let us mark, secondly, in this passage, the noble declaration of faith which the Apostle Peter made. Our Lord had said to the twelve, when many went back, “Will ye also go away?” At once Peter replied, with characteristic zeal and fervour, “Lord, to whom shall we go? Thou hast the words of eternal life. And we believe and are sure that Thou art that Christ, the Son of the living God.”

The confession contained in these words is a very remarkable one. Living in a professedly Christian land, and surrounded by Christian privileges; we can hardly form an adequate idea of its real value. For a humble Jew to say of one whom Scribes, and Pharisees, and Sadducees agreed in rejecting, “Thou hast the words of eternal life; Thou art the Christ,” was an act of mighty faith. No wonder that our Lord said, in another place, “Blessed art thou, Simon Bar-jona: for flesh and blood hath not revealed it unto thee, but my Father which is in heaven.” (Matt. 16:17)

But the question with which Peter begins, is just as remarkable as his confession. “To whom shall we go?” said the noble-hearted Apostle. “Whom shall we follow? To what teacher shall we betake ourselves? Where shall we find any guide to heaven to compare with Thee? What shall we gain by forsaking Thee? What Scribe, what Pharisee, what Sadducee, what Priest, what Rabbi can show us such words of eternal life as Thou showest?”

The question is one which every true Christian may boldly ask, when urged and tempted to give up his religion, and go back to the world. It is easy for those who hate religion to pick holes in our conduct, to make objections to our doctrines, to find fault with our practices. It may be hard sometimes to give them any answer. But after all, “To whom shall we go,” if we give up our religion? Where shall we find such peace, and hope, and solid comfort as in serving Christ, however poorly we serve Him? Can we better ourselves by turning our back on Christ, and going back to our old ways? We cannot. Then let us hold on our way and persevere.

Let us mark, lastly, in this passage, what little benefit some men get from religious privileges. We read that our Lord said, “Have not I chosen you twelve, and one of you is a devil.” And it goes on, “He spake of Judas Iscariot, the son of Simon.”

If ever there was a man who had great privileges and opportunities, that man was Judas Iscariot. A chosen disciple, a constant companion of Christ, a witness of His miracles, a hearer of His sermons, a commissioned preacher of His kingdom, a fellow and friend of Peter, James, and John,–it would be impossible to imagine a more favourable position for a man’s soul. Yet if anyone ever fell hopelessly into hell, and made shipwreck at last for eternity, that man was Judas Iscariot. The character of that man must have been black indeed, of whom our Lord could say, he is “a devil.”

Let us settle it firmly in our minds, that the possession of religious privileges alone is not enough to save our souls. It is neither place, nor light, nor company, nor opportunities, but grace that man needs to make him a Christian. With grace we may serve God in the most difficult position,–like Daniel in Babylon, Obadiah in Ahab’s court, and the saints in Nero’s household. Without grace we may live in the full sunshine of Christ’s countenance, and yet, like Judas, be miserably cast away. Then let us never rest until we have grace reigning in our souls. Grace is to be had for the asking. There is One sitting at the right hand of God who has said, “Ask, and it shall be given you.” (Matt. 7:7) The Lord Jesus is more willing to give grace than man is to seek it. If men have it not, it is because they do not ask it.