Introduction

Friends, I’m so glad you’re here. Some of us arrive with hearts humming like a highway—noise and nagging worries at every mile marker. Others walk in weary, wanting a word that steadies the soul and stills the storm inside. Jesus meets us here. He speaks not to impress but to impart life. He doesn’t sugarcoat truth; he serves it straight and strong because he loves us too much to leave us stuck. And sometimes, when his words meet our wounds, it feels weighty. Sometimes his teaching rubs the grain of our comfort. But it is a holy rub, a kind Father’s correction, a faithful Friend’s honesty.

Have you ever noticed how the toughest words often carry the greatest healing? A doctor who cares will tell you what you need, not just what you prefer. Jesus is like that—gentle and good, yet gloriously honest. He speaks to the secret places: the corners of our cravings, the rooms of our regrets, the cupboards of our control. He stands there, steady, and asks us to trust him. Can we trust him when his way is winding? Can we say yes when the crowd says, “Too hard”? Can we keep walking when the shine of the miracle wears off and all that’s left is obedience?

Dietrich Bonhoeffer put it simply and solemnly: “When Christ calls a man, he bids him come and die.” That line doesn’t make for easy slogans, but it makes for deep disciples. It invites us to lay down the illusion of control and take up the treasure of Christ himself. Because in the end, that is the secret we were made for: not easier circumstances, but a nearer Christ; not lighter words, but living words.

In John 6, Jesus has just fed thousands. Bellies are full, expectations are high, and then he speaks about himself as the bread of life. The crowd leans in—until his words begin to stretch them. What happens next is painfully honest: some walk away. But Peter gives us a sentence for the ages, a confession for every season: “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life.” That’s where hope holds. That’s where courage kindles. That’s where our hearts can settle tonight: not in easier answers, but in the only One whose words breathe life into dust and courage into fear.

So if today you’re carrying questions, you’re in good company. If you’re feeling the tug-of-war between comfort and calling, you’re not alone. Jesus is here, not to shame you, but to shepherd you. He doesn’t scold your struggle; he speaks life into it. And as we listen, we’ll find that the same words that unsettle us also anchor us—the same Savior who confronts our comfort also carries our hearts. Let’s listen to his voice together.

Scripture Reading — John 6:60-69 (ESV) 60 When many of his disciples heard it, they said, “This is a hard saying; who can listen to it?” 61 But Jesus, knowing in himself that his disciples were grumbling about this, said to them, “Do you take offense at this? 62 Then what if you were to see the Son of Man ascending to where he was before? 63 It is the Spirit who gives life; the flesh is no help at all. The words that I have spoken to you are spirit and life. 64 But there are some of you who do not believe.” (For Jesus knew from the beginning who those were who did not believe, and who it was who would betray him.) 65 And he said, “This is why I told you that no one can come to me unless it is granted him by the Father.” 66 After this many of his disciples turned back and no longer walked with him. 67 So Jesus said to the Twelve, “Do you want to go away as well?” 68 Simon Peter answered him, “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life, 69 and we have believed, and have come to know, that you are the Holy One of God.”

Opening Prayer Father, we come with open hands and, in many ways, open hurts. Speak life to us. Where our hearts are hardened, soften us. Where our minds are crowded, clear them. Where our wills are wobbly, steady them. Lord Jesus, you have the words of eternal life; let your words find welcome in us today. Holy Spirit, breathe courage, conviction, and comfort. Help us hear, help us trust, help us follow. We ask in the name of Jesus, our bread and our life. Amen.

When Jesus' Words Confront Our Comfort

Jesus speaks into the places we guard. He steps into rooms where we like to keep the lights dim. His voice goes to the heart. It presses on desires and habits. It moves past what we can manage. It calls for trust when we would rather hold on.

In the crowd that day, many had their hopes set a certain way. They had ideas about what life with God should feel like. They expected easy answers. They wanted more of what filled them the day before. Then his teaching went deeper. He spoke of himself as the bread that truly satisfies. He called for a kind of receiving that is total, personal, and daily. That felt heavy to them. It felt costly.

Our patterns are not that different. We come to Jesus for help. We ask for relief. We ask for guidance. He is kind. He cares. But his words also reach into our motives. They ask why we want what we want. They ask who we trust when it hurts. They ask what we love most.

So when we read this passage, we are watching desire meet truth. Many hear him and say, This is hard. That is not only about ideas. It is about appetite. It is about wanting a certain kind of life and feeling shaken when Jesus points to another way. He asks them to receive him, not just his gifts. He asks them to feed on him, not just on what he gives.

That is where many of us feel the pinch. He talks about forgiveness, and we like holding a grudge. He talks about money, and we like control. He talks about loving enemies, and we like winning. He talks about holiness, and we like a little fog. He talks about serving, and we like being seen. His words are good, yet they touch nerves we hide.

So what do we do when that happens? We name it. We say to him, This part is hard for me. We ask him to help us want what he wants. We open our hands, even if they shake. We take the next small step he shows. We do that again tomorrow.

He also speaks about how his life reaches us. He says life comes from the Spirit. Human effort cannot produce it. The problem is not that we try to obey. The problem is when we rely on our own power to make life with God happen. We treat faith like a project. We try to build it with our tools. Then his words hit a wall in us.

We read and feel numb. We hear and feel closed. We try harder and feel tired. Jesus is clear. Life in God comes from God. His words carry life. The Spirit makes them alive in us. This humbles us. It slows us down. It turns us into people who pray before we push.

So we come to Scripture with simple prayers. Make this word live in me. Give me a soft heart. Help me trust what I cannot see yet. Change what I cannot change. We confess our way of measuring everything by speed and ease. We ask for a new measure. We ask for a living hunger for Christ himself.

This changes how we hear hard teaching. We do not stand over the text with a grading pen. We sit under the text with an open heart. We do not wait for the feeling to arrive before we obey. We take small steps and ask for help while we walk. Over time, the Spirit knits truth into the way we think and love.

Jesus also names unbelief in the room. He says some do not believe. He is not shocked by it. He is not shaken by it. He keeps speaking truth with calm strength. He also says that coming to him is a gift from the Father. This takes the pride out of us. It also takes the panic out of us.

We learn to ask. Father, draw my heart. Father, draw my child. Father, draw my friend. We stop trying to force people to change. We stop trying to force ourselves to feel. We bring hearts to God. We keep sowing the word. We keep praying. We wait with patience. We trust that God gives life.

This also helps when we hit resistance in our own soul. Some days your faith feels thin. Some days you want to quit. You wonder if you ever believed at all. Hear this. Jesus knew who in that crowd did not believe. He also knew those who would keep walking. He will not confuse you for his enemy because you are tired. He calls you to keep coming. He gives grace for that. He grants strength for the next step.

So we learn a simple way. We confess where faith is weak. We ask for help. We obey what we know. We keep at it. We do not rush the work of God in us. We do not shame ourselves into fake zeal. We put ourselves where his word is heard. We ask the Father to make that word take hold.

There is also a painful moment in the passage. Many turn back. They stop walking with him. The crowd gets smaller. The noise dies down. That is heavy. You can feel the weight in the air. Then Jesus looks at the Twelve and asks if they want to leave too. He is honest. He will not keep people by hiding the cost.

This is where faith shows itself. Staying can feel lonely. You can feel odd. The stream of friends may move a different way. Old habits call your name. New doubts press hard. Jesus does not give a pep talk. He gives himself. He stands there and waits for a real answer.

Peter speaks for the group. He does not have every answer. He does not have a plan for tomorrow. He knows this much. No one else speaks life like Jesus. No one else matches his worth. No one else carries heaven’s authority with human compassion. So he stays. He stays because of the person standing in front of him.

That is how staying still works. We stay because of Jesus. We do not stay because we like the feeling of being different. We do not stay because our circle approves. We stay because we have tasted something true in him. We have seen that his words are alive. We want more of him.

Here is a way to practice this when comfort calls the shots. Think of one hard word you have heard from Jesus. Do not try to fix everything. Take that one word to him. Tell him why it feels hard. Ask him for power to do one clear act in light of it. Make it small. Make it honest. Then do it. Tell a friend. Ask them to pray.

When you fail, get up. When you fear, speak to him about it. When you feel alone, sit with his word again. Put a short promise where your eyes can see it. Say it aloud in the morning. Say it in the car. Say it before bed. The point is not a trick. The point is steady trust.

Over time you will notice something quiet and real. His commands will start to feel wise. His warnings will start to feel kind. His comfort will meet you in the very place where it once stung. Your heart will grow a new reflex. You will hear him and move toward him, even when it is hard.

Discipleship Tested by the Choice to Stay or Leave

Hard words bring us to a crossroads ... View this full PRO sermon free with PRO