Giovanni Battista Tiepolo, La raccolta della manna. (From Wikimedia Commons)

On the Roman Catholic calendar, this Sunday was the 18th Sunday in Ordinary Time. The readings today (Exodus 16:2-4, 12-15, Psalms 78:3-4, 23-24, 25, 54, Ephesians 4:17, 20-24, and John 6:24-35) concerned God’s gift to man: bread, literally to feed our bodies, and spiritually to feed our souls.

Deacon Doug Souza took today’s readings and related it to the father who is tempted to take time away from his family in order to provide for them: an extra job or overtime, for example. Yet as he says, “no amount of material goods can take the place of a father’s loving, attentive prescence at home.” He then talks about God, in that He suffers no such temptation: that no matter how much God provides for us, He’s always by our side because that’s what we need the most.

What interested me the most about today’s readings, however, wasn’t God’s provisions for us, or that He’d always be by my side. It’s important, but a part of the Gospel reading was especially interesting given the project of this blog:

So they said to him, “What can we do to accomplish the works of God?” Jesus answered and said to them, “This is the work of God, that you believe in the one he sent.” So they said to him, “What sign can you do, that we may see and believe in you? What can you do? Our ancestors ate manna in the desert, as it is written: He gave them bread from heaven to eat.” So Jesus said to them, “Amen, amen, I say to you, it was not Moses who gave the bread from heaven; my Father gives you the true bread from heaven. For the bread of God is that which comes down from heaven and gives life to the world.” (John 6:28-33)

Here, Jesus’s disciples request their own shibboleth for one who comes in the name of God: they imply that, since in Exodus, God gave bread to the Israelites, that might be a good indicator that a person should be believed in. Jesus explains that only God gives true nourishment, and as He says immediately after:

“I am the bread of life; whoever comes to me will never hunger, and whoever believes in me will never thirst.” (John 6:35)

What I find fascinating about this is that the crowd doesn’t necessarily believe in Jesus unquestioningly: in fact, they want to make sure He’s on the level with the God they know. God provided manna from Heaven: will Jesus do the same? Surprisingly, Jesus accepts the contract and makes a pledge, in contrast to other times he’s been challenged. In the Gospel of Matthew, Jesus gets angry when He’s tested:

Then the Pharisees went off and plotted how they might entrap him in speech. They sent their disciples to him, with the Herodians, saying, “Teacher, we know that you are a truthful man and that you teach the way of God in accordance with the truth. And you are not concerned with anyone’s opinion, for you do not regard a person’s status. Tell us, then, what is your opinion: Is it lawful to pay the census tax to Caesar or not?” Knowing their malice, Jesus said, “Why are you testing me, you hypocrites?” (Matthew 22:15-18)

Why is it different, here? Prima facie, it seems God answers to those who have a noble intent: the disciples asking Jesus about the bread genuinely want to understand the signs, whereas the Pharisees were merely trying to entrap Him. God knows the minds of all, so Jesus responded accordingly. But going back farther into the Bible, there are two more examples of questioning or testing God: in Genesis, Abraham bargains with God (Genesis 18:16-33) regarding the fate of Sodom and Gommorah, and God responds as if this was normal.

Léon Joseph Florentin Bonnat, Job (From Wikimedia Commons)

This seems to back up the case: Abraham was righteous, so God listened and responded pleasantly. But the other example throws a wrench into the works: God’s response to Job (Job 38-40). Like Abraham, Job was righteous (Job 1:1): even if he wasn’t as great as Abraham, he’s at least equal to or better than the disciples in John. So why does God respond so violently? In fact, God responds almost in the same manner Jesus does with the Pharisees: He gets angry, He asks why He’s being questioned, and answers the question with another question.

To add more to the confusion, Job was asking for the same thing the disciples were asking for: a sign that God’s there:

I cry to you, but you do not answer me; you stand off and look at me, then you turn upon me without mercy and with your strong hand you buffet me. You raise me up and drive me before the wind; I am tossed about by the tempest. Indeed I know you will turn me back in death to the destined place of everyone alive. Yet should not a hand be held out to help a wretched man in his calamity? (Job 30:20-24)

So what’s different about the disciples and Job?