A review and discussion of “John 6 and the Lord’s Supper,” a Concordia Seminary, St. Louis STM thesis by Jon Bischof
This thesis is well done and cited within LCMS circles regarding the meaning of John 6. This debate has been going on for over 25 years, as evidenced by this 1999 STM thesis. Bischof’s thesis is useful because it is clear and well-researched. Its arguments, though not to be accepted without being scrutinized, get to the heart of the matter.
This thesis seeks to enter “no man’s land,” since virtually the entire Lutheran tradition, until the late 19th century, followed Martin Luther’s view that “it [the sixth chapter of John] does not refer to the sacrament in a single syllable” (iii). Bischof deals with Luther extensively and touches on the Lutheran Confessions, but the sources he uses to expound upon John 6 and the arguments raised are helpful—even for those who agree with Luther. The mere opinion of a person on John 6 is not the main thing; rather, the theological implications that inform those views and the unstated assumption of the nature of Scripture, and in particular Jesus versus John as authors in this one discourse, make this a worthwhile and long-lasting debate.
The fact so many modern theologians, even those who adopt the name of Lutheran, disagree with Luther and even claim that he would hold a different position today is illuminating. Although trifling and arrogant, the reason the claim is made does illustrate the theological divide between pre-modern Lutheran theologians and those of our day. This has mainly to do with the nature of Scripture, how it is read, and the way it is interpreted. Although this thesis was done at St. Louis, a longtime Fort Wayne professor speculated, “In a different situation the reformer may have allowed his intuition to follow his instincts to develop a eucharistic interpretation of John 6. His situation did not allow him this luxury. Ours does” (David Scaer, “Once More to John 6,” 233).
Bischof holds the Lutheran line that Jesus, the next day after the feeding of the 5000, speaks of faith in verses 6:22-51a. It would be hard to do otherwise, since the text is crystal clear on this point: “Truly, truly, I say to you, you are seeking me, not because you saw signs, but because you ate your fill of the loaves. Do not work for the food that perishes, but for the food that endures to eternal life, which the Son of Man will give to you (26-27). Jesus contrasts their wanting earthly bread to Himself as the bread from heaven they should seek. “For this is the will of my Father, that everyone who looks on the Son and believes in him should have eternal life, and I will raise him up on the last day” (40).
The response of the Jews is grumbling, especially as Jesus contrasts the eating of the mouth with the eating of faith: “I am the bread that came down from heaven.” Jesus intensifies his sermon, so they are greatly offended, and most leave: “I am the living bread that came down from heaven. If anyone eats of this bread, he will live forever. And the bread that I will give for the life of the world is my flesh” (51).
At this point, many modern Lutherans diverge from Luther and the earlier verses. Why is that? Theology has shifted based on the way Scripture is now viewed in our critical, post-Enlightenment landscape. The assumption that a theologian must be “sacramental” (a vague word at best), and the fact that John has no institution of the Lord’s Supper, allows for creative explanations, and John 6 is ripe, since it mentions eating and drinking. But let us not be more sacramental than God’s revealed Word, that is, Christ’s own Word.
Bischof rightly summarizes the uncontested section of Jesus’ discourse on Himself being the true bread: the “rather common oral eating which gives temporal life is contrasted to spiritual oral eating which gives eternal life.” That is crucial, because it is reversed by those Lutherans who pivot around v51b-52 and change the topic to the Lord’s Supper, which does involve regular oral eating:
Truly, truly, I say to you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you have no life in you. Whoever feeds on my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise him up on the last day. For my flesh is true food, and my blood is true drink. Whoever feeds on my flesh and drinks my blood abides in me, and I in him (53-56).
The Lutherans cited for this switcheroo back to common oral eating (which the Supper no doubt involves, along with Christ’s true body and blood as well) are a rather meager list, including Hermann Sasse, Werner Elert, Wilhelm Lohe, and James W. Voelz. None were (or are, in the case of Voelz) truly orthodox on Scripture. Luther’s position interprets the words as clear and logically consistent with St. Paul’s warning about unworthy eating leading to condemnation in 1 Cor. 11—oral eating without faith is not helpful, but condemnation. After all, according to the Spirit’s inspiration, the ultimate author of all of the Bible is the Holy Spirit, allowing for a singular theology.
Luther could be so blunt as to say that any sow or pig can eat the Lord’s Supper orally, but that is not the Christian eating, which must involve the eating of faith as well. So John 6 certainly relates to the Lord’s Supper and has always been used in its discussion. But the real question is what do Jesus’s words actually say, and what do they explicitly refer to? Their interpretation must be separated from a secondary application.
The fleshly desire to make John 6 sacramental is natural, but the words actually given by the Spirit must confine our minds and interpretations so we may have solid doctrine and proclamation. As it turns out, the main keys to making John 6 about Supper are extra-textual and imply a subtle change in how the Gospel is read. The switch from the Jew’s fixation on filling their belly through their mouth to Jesus’ discourse of faith and then back to oral eating of the Supper is quite a transition. Especially since Jesus’ audience has no inclination of the Supper, since it had not yet been instituted.
This is the sacramental whiplash:
oral (Jesus wrongly seen as bread King) → spiritual (Christ’s incarnation and sacrifice) → oral (the Supper)
How is this shift buttressed? Almost exclusively by extra-Scriptural evidence and assumptions. Making the latter part about the Supper conflicts with the earlier part. To fit in the unworthy eating is also a challenge, unless one assumes Jesus did not use logic as we do, since there is no possibility allowed to consume Jesus’ “flesh” and “blood” without also having life in Him. Holding to Christ’s body and blood as an outward work or ritual leads to what our Confessions call “Baal Gottesdienst”—not Baal serving us, but idolatry, since the Gospel is necessary to preserve the Supper from being merely an oral eating, which itself appeases God’s justice (AP XXIV, 98).
There is a subtle, yet important contrast made in sacramentalizing John 6. Jesus’ words, which offend and drive away almost all, even the 12 (who know nothing of the Supper), are contrasted with the audience of John’s day, which is a Christian audience that has the Supper. That move is the difference between the classical Lutheran reading and the modern “sacramental” reading. “John’s readers know very well … [of] Jesus’ blood in the words of institution of the Lord’s Supper, which they hear in the Communion Liturgy every Sunday” (8-9). That is a far different context than the one John 6 presents: unbelieving crowds wanting to make Jesus King, who will not leave Him alone until he speaks of eating his flesh and drinking his blood.
“The metaphorical language which Jesus employed in speaking of faith,” according to Bischof, is not actually what the text says. Jesus actually describes eating orally (the normal eating) as a metaphorical eating—and belief in Him as the true consumption of life, that is, the real and true eating all men need. “Man shall not live by bread alone,” making the eating of faith not metaphorical but literal and the most basic eating possible by sinners. Physically eating to “belly-worshippers” (Phil. 3:19) seems like the true eating, but Jesus makes all mouth-eating shallow and fleshly, a mere shadow and metaphor of living faith in Him. Much like when Jesus uses “sleep” for “death,” he is not brushing over the reality of death but defining it by the resurrection to glory of all believers to come. Death has been made temporary, so sleep is the more accurate term for the Christian. We dare not make the true bread less true than physically eating, which does not give life and must exit the body.
But the context of Jesus is not used to show that the Sacrament is referenced in John 6; rather, it is John, the human author, and his assumed context. This is significant and why a host of modern, critical interpreters underlay Bischof’s interpretation. “John expects his readers to make the connection, even though the disciples and the other hearers in the synagogue did not understand all of what Jesus said” (14-15). This is not stated in Scripture and requires going beyond the text itself.
A German commentary by Rudolf Schnackenburg is cited by Bischof: “This Johannine addition acquires a theological meaning” (5). This is redaction criticism, a type of higher criticism between form criticism (~1950s) and narrative criticism (1980s), which was exceedingly popular among academic interpreters of Scripture. Why is there a problem with theological meaning imbued in the text? It required changing or redacting the text itself. But if the true account of Jesus’ words is edited for a particular later context, they are no longer the true and accurate words of Jesus but falsified or improved upon. Although not cited by Bischof, consider this quote from a scholar who promoted aspects of redaction criticism in a conservative way:
“Such [critical] methods are not without value in that the earliest church reflections on the Lord’s Supper are seen to resemble closely what later became the classical Reformed view of a symbolical meal. Texts in their final form, as we have them in the Bible, were encrusted with views now associated with Lutherans and Catholics …the Gospels preserve both earlier and later reflections on the Last Supper” (Scaer, “Reformed Exegesis and Lutheran Sacraments: Worlds in Conflict,’’ CTQ 64, Jan. 2000, no. 1:18-19).
Although much is made (unconvincingly) by Bischof of the Greek kai … de (and … though) formula, the switch from Jesus to John is blatant when talking about the supposed sacramental element of John 6. Sasse is heavily cited in this thesis and seems to be the main driver of its arguments. But Sasse held to a different view of Scripture than Luther and the old Missouri Synod. To quote Sasse at length (not cited in Bischof):
The transition from one theme to the next is so abrupt, the tension between the statement about the spiritual eating of Christ in faith and that about the sacramental eating and drinking of His flesh and blood is so great that John 6:51b-58 has been interpreted as an insertion by which the ecclesiastical doctrine of the Lord’s Supper as “medicine of immortality” was introduced into the Fourth Gospel, which was originally not interested in the Sacrament and therefore ignored the institution of the Lord’s Supper (thus R. Bultmann, Das Johannes Evangelium, 161ff.). Now this gospel, just like the synoptics, also in other respects shows traces of a complicated process of development, and it is quite conceivable that the discourses as we read them today may have come together from various sources. But to lay bare some sort of original John [Ur-Johannes] from the text as we have it is impossible.
This is futile speculation and does harm to the Scriptures we have been given by doing theological archaeology on them. Sasse is right, though, to hold that if the account switches from faith-eating to Supper-eating it is radically abrupt, which is why the scholars Bischof quotes do not say Jesus talked about the sacrament but rather John (the supposed redacter writing for a later 1st-century Christian context). Do you see the difference? Luther approached it doctrinally as an authentic historic account of Jesus, but moderns allow assumed outside historical factors to make the sacramental evident, but also make John 6 impenetrable without it—casting doubt on whether Jesus actually spoke about the future sacrament to offend those who could not have known about it—which is a strange proclamation of Law.
The author and audience are changed by those consistent in their sacramental interpretation: “C. H. Dodd also sees 6:51b as “an expanded transcription of the words of institution” (20), making Jesus’s words a Johannine commentary on a later institution. Likewise, the true audience is not the Jews in the account but John’s first historical original readers.
The doctrine of inspiration tells us that the Spirit can speak to all people of all times and is not bound to writing that is historically-conditioned, like we are. If the Scriptures are God’s Word and clear, the text itself must provide the clues and meaning—not what is extra-scriptural.
“Flesh” (sarx in Greek) is not the Greek word for “body” (soma) used in the four institutions we have in Scripture. To equate the two is to de-privilege the four consistent and clear passages for a supposed thematic reading that tells us nothing new about the Supper or how to receive it. Despite Bischof claiming the Lutheran Confessions do not follow Luther’s exegesis, the “Capernaitic eating” says otherwise: “He calls His true body and true blood, at the same time saying: Eat and drink. For in view of the circumstances this command evidently cannot be understood otherwise than of oral eating and drinking, however, not in a gross, carnal, Capernaitic, but in a supernatural, incomprehensible way (FC SD VII:64). “Capernaitic” refers to John 6 after the feeding of the 5000, which had Capernaum as its setting (v17). The Jews, who did not eat even some animals due to the Old Testament ceremonial law, wrongly interpreted Jesus’ words as implying cannibalism—seeing His flesh as merely a sinful man’s, not spiritual, and of no possible eternal benefit.
Does Bischof imply Jesus originally used the same word for body (soma) that the Supper’s institutions use, but that John modified it for his own purposes? “John used sarx instead of soma deliberately in order to emphasize the true humanity of Jesus in opposition to his incipient-gnostic opponents” (42-42). Besides being unprovable, it makes Scripture unreliable and a-historical—more theological-literary documents for theologians to dissect than a certain Word of God to submit to in faith.
“C. H. Cosgrove draws a distinction between ‘the ostensible audience’ (the Jews in the Synagogue in Capernaum) and ‘the implied audience’ in 6:53 … ‘secret believers’ who believe in Jesus but refuse to identify themselves with the Johannine Community.” Notice the shift in not audience—to those who did not hear Jesus’ original word. Critical historicizing allows this shift within the same text, which requires John changing Jesus’s words to some extent. Luther treated Scripture with more respect, so this searching for hidden sacramental themes was out of the question for him.
It gets awkward making Jesus’ discourse to the Jews, who had their bellies filled, not spoken to them entirely, but to a secret audience not actually mentioned. Bischof relates, “John uses [the Greek word Trogo, feed], in order to offset any Docetic tendencies to ‘spiritualize’ the concept so that nothing physical remains in it, in what many hold to be the language of the Lord’s Supper” (27). That makes Jesus’ words not actually in the mouth of Jesus historically, unless we posit Jesus talking past and over the audience mentioned in John 6.
Redaction criticism tries to imbue the narratives in Scripture with a deeper meaning. But that undermines the actual teaching it clearly states. Finding themes does not help sinners in need of forgiveness and solid comfort. Allusions cannot prove anything. Voelz describes this controverted section as a “double entendre,” that is, something with an open and also a hidden, suggestive meaning, showing the futility of basing doctrine upon this shaky foundation.
Bischof makes a number of intriguing arguments. The first is the parallel between John 3 on Baptism and John 6, though Baptism did actually exist already before Jesus spoke about it. Another one is that “it is impossible to find any other way of accounting for the introduction of ‘drinking blood’.” His argument is unique:
In the O.T. “eating blood” is never used as a metaphor for faith. The assertion that “eating flesh and drinking blood” refers to faith and faith alone has no precedent in Scripture. Therefore, the assertion that John 6:53-58 cannot in any way refer to the Lord’s Supper has no Scriptural evidence on which to stand (29).
But John 6 is Scripture, that is, God’s true words. Jesus was not confined to speaking only in pictures the OT contains. He is the eternal Word, and a second scriptural reference is not needed. This strange view makes John 6 seem unclear and potentially a dependent source, rather than the authoritative Word of God. To limit Jesus by claiming He can say nothing new is novel, to say the least. But even the original claim is not exactly true. Blood is extensively mentioned in the Bible. How do we make the blood our own? Even in the Supper, faith is required to benefit from the oral eating. The Jews who were forbidden to eat the blood of animals were surely horrified at the thought of Jesus’ life-giving blood, since they can think only of munching Him like a cow chews grass. Jesus increases the offense; he will not allow the crowds to follow Him for an ungodly motive (mere oral bread).
The Roman Catholic critic Raymond Brown is cited, along with the notorious heretic and scholar “Rudolf Bultmann [who] attributes the passage to some unnamed ‘redactor’ (29). At least Bultmann was consistent—he allowed Jesus to shift topics because he did not see them as Jesus’ actual historical words. That is where the thematic emphasis comes from—a lower view of the Bible that allows for theological development, contrast between the human authors, and creativity on the part of the exegete.
Another critical scholar cited (Schnackenburg) is honest in his speculation: “Probably the Evangelist is attacking a gnostic or docetic group within his community which rejected the reception of the Eucharist” (31). The text does not say this, so it is an uncertain guess, which assumes an uncertain Word of God. To think Luther would deny sola scriptura to have a reference to the sacrament that adds nothing to our knowledge of the Supper is quite the supposition! To go behind the words and read into the clear text is not Christian, which is why critical scholars are so helpful to the sacramentally-minded—they are not bound to any confession of the Bible as God’s true, inerrant Word.
Jesus does not change course in midstream with the Jews, nor does the text indicate that. “In 6:55 Jesus speaks of His flesh and blood as food and drink”—that is correct, since Jesus is true food, even more true than the meals we consume for strength and vitality. But Bischof argues, “Here it refers to food and drink which is real/actual in that it can really be eaten in actuality” (32). That contradicts the point Jesus makes initially and glosses over the unworthy eating revealed through Paul. Seeing Communion and Baptism under every rock and body of water in Scripture is not real theology. The Supper by itself without faith does not give life—Christ’s body and blood condemns if only taken orally, without the spiritual eating. Martin Chemnitz speaks clearly on this:
So there is a twofold eating of Christ’s flesh. First, there is a spiritual kind of eating, which Christ treats above all in John 6. This occurs in no other way than with the Spirit and faith in the proclamation of and meditation on the gospel, as well as in the Supper. It is in and of itself useful, salutary, and necessary for all Christians at all times for their salvation. Without this spiritual reception even the sacramental or oral eating in the Supper is not only not salutary but also harmful and damning.
We dare not be merely a Communion-muncher without faith. If it is merely our work to do, we are condemned outside of Christ in unbelief.
… if this passage were enjoining a sacramental eating, when he says: ‘Unless you eat my flesh and drink my blood, you have no life in you,’ he would be condemning all infants, all the sick, and those absent or in any way hindered from the sacramental eating, however strong their faith might be. (Luther, The Babylonian Captivity of the Church (1520), 36:19-20).
The list of Early Church citations is hollow, because their view of Scripture and interpretation are not followed. They took the literal sense as true, hence why the Eastern churches administer a bit of the Supper to the newly baptized, even infants. They did not bend logic completely to their sacramental vision, but neither did they speak as clearly as Luther on faith alone or Scripture alone. Someone can be well-meaning but still misguided. But a light sacramental sprinkling upon John 6 in actuality does nothing for our understanding of this important meal. To make it the test of one’s doctrine of the Supper is to put human judgment above God’s Word.
Bischof makes a bold claim that cinches Luther’s position: “John 6 can only be understood in the light of the incipient-Docetic controversy that took place in the time of John and afterwards with Ignatius” (65). This is a blatant denial of sola scriptura. It also implies the text by itself does not talk of the Sacrament and that the supposed historical circumstances allow one to read between the lines of Jesus (but with John’s later presumed historical glasses).
Sad to say, but this is the arrogance of historical criticism: “Any interpretation separated from this historical context is doomed to be guided by hypothetical historical speculation or the philosophical/ theological presuppositions of the interpreter” (66). But the text has all the clues and context we need to discern meaning. The polyvalent themes of modern, critical theology only seem like a boon—they sow doubt and uncertainty.
Luther actually read John 6 as a true historical account. Nothing John wrote was put into the mouth of Jesus after the fact but was written plainly as history. Modern theologians tend to be bored with plain words and binding dogma and want to make Scripture their playground. But this undermines the source of all doctrine. Theology must be tied to words; themes establish nothing worth living and dying for.
Incredibly, all the theological contortions to import the Sacrament into John 6 provide no actual gain. Bischof’s conclusions are fine, but redaction-critical views of John 6 are not needed to claim them. Nothing new is said about the Supper. The waters are muddied, and doctrine is overcome by anemic themes that cannot convict, encourage, or be relied upon. This passage will continue to be debated, no doubt, because it says much about our views of Scripture and the nature of inspiration, which Luther boldly confessed. The clarity of Scripture is compromised for making Jesus reverse course and speak about bare oral eating, which He earlier criticizes. Luther’s view is to uphold the Gospel, not force theological fetishes onto the text: “Therefore this Gospel does not permit itself to be interpreted of the bread of the altar. For it has much too clear a promise in itself” (91). Thankfully, Bischof quotes Luther at length, which is commendable.
Real Christians need solid comfort, not vague, unprovable explanations. In suffering we must have a solid promise to depend on. Hidden meanings and secretive allusions obscure the Gospel promise Christ makes. It certainly has a relationship to the Supper, but it is much wider than just the Supper: “Truly, truly, I say to you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you have no life in you. Whoever feeds on my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise him up on the last day.” The food that you do eat with your mouth alone is a mere external thing and is never the principal eating for those in Christ: “For the kingdom of God is not a matter of eating and drinking but of righteousness and peace and joy in the Holy Spirit” (Rom. 14:17).
No one has life except by eating this true food of our Lord by faith. Even if someone eats the Lord’s Supper 1000 times, it will not profit him without faith. John 6 will remain a hermeneutical battleground, but merely saying it is sacramental (and doctrinally it is related to the Supper) or not misses the major error of the past several centuries that we have much to learn from Luther on: the doctrine of Scripture, which has been debased by the modern denial of its inspiration, authority, clarity, and truth. —ed.
Christian News 