Why the thing you’re chasing to fill the void probably isn’t the thing

Somewhere out there right now, someone is ordering an embarrassingly expensive pizza delivery.

We’ve all been there. Hungry, slightly irrational, willing to spend money or time or energy we don’t really have just to scratch the itch. The hunger takes over and suddenly the math stops mattering.

But here’s the thing I’ve been sitting with lately: most of us are walking around with that same irrational hunger all the time. Just not for food. We’re hungry for something. We’re just not always sure what it is. And we keep trying to fill it with things that don’t actually work.

The Cracker Problem

This Sunday I was preaching through a passage in John’s gospel where Jesus makes one of the most audacious statements in human history. He says: “I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never go hungry.”

I’ve been a pastor long enough to know that when most people hear that, they either nod politely or quietly wonder if it’s actually true. Because most of us have tried the “Jesus thing” at some point and still ended up hungry. Still ended up tired, or lonely, or empty, or anxious, or chasing something we couldn’t quite name.

So either Jesus is wrong, or we’ve been eating the wrong thing.

I think it’s usually the second one.

We come to Jesus asking for crackers – quick fixes, parking spots, a way out of the thing we’re in – and then we’re surprised when we’re hungry again an hour later. Crackers do that. Bread doesn’t.

What Hunger Actually Feels Like

It shows up in a lot of different ways. Maybe it’s the thing you check first thing in the morning. Is it your phone, your email, the number in your bank account? Maybe it’s the credential you’re chasing, the relationship you’re trying to hold together, the approval you’re still waiting on from someone who may never give it.

Maybe it’s more subtle than that. Maybe it’s just a low-grade restlessness you can’t shake. A feeling that something’s missing but you can’t quite locate it.

You know that feeling? That’s hunger. Not the Snickers-bar kind. The deeper kind.

Augustine, a guy who spent a good chunk of his life trying to fill that void with all the wrong things before becoming one of history’s most important Christian writers, put it this way: “Our heart is restless until it rests in you.” He was talking to God. And he knew from personal experience what it felt like to try everything else first.

The Difference Between Crackers and Bread

In the passage I was preaching from, Jesus has just done something remarkable. He fed over 10,000 people with a little boy’s lunch. Five small loaves and two fish. The crowd is amazed. They follow him across the lake. They want more.

And Jesus essentially says: I know why you’re here. You’re here because I fed you yesterday. You’re not here because you believe anything about who I am. You just want more food.

Then he says something that reframes the whole thing. The bread your ancestors ate in the wilderness. You know the miraculous manna, the daily provision. They ate it and they died. I’m offering you bread that leads to a different kind of life entirely.

The crackers are anything that gives you a temporary hit of what you want and sometimes need in the moment. The bread is the thing that actually satisfies.

A promotion can feel like bread. So can a new relationship, a fresh start, a better city, a cleaner diet, a fuller inbox, a bigger platform. And none of those things are bad. But they’re crackers. They work for a while and then you’re hungry again.

The claim Jesus is making is that he’s different in kind, not just in degree. Not just a better cracker. Actually bread. The sustaining kind.

The Part That Costs Something

Here’s the part of Sunday’s message I couldn’t get away from. To illustrate what he means by “bread of life,” Jesus uses the image of wheat. Wheat berries straight off the stalk are kind of gross. I know I grew up chewing them as a kid with my grandpa. You can do it, but it’s not exactly a meal. And it’s not really all that tasty either.

You know how grain becomes bread? It gets plucked, sifted, pounded, ground down, beaten, and baked.

Not long after Jesus called himself the bread of life, he was arrested, beaten, tortured, and killed. The same language. The same process. Ground down to nothing and placed in a grave.

And then, just like bread rising, he didn’t stay there. He rose.

I’m not asking you to believe that right now if you don’t. But I’m pointing at it because it matters for the claim. Jesus isn’t just offering a philosophy or a set of principles that might help with the hunger. He’s saying he went through something on your behalf so that the hunger could actually be answered.

So What Are You Hungry For?

Genuinely. Not the Sunday school answer, not the polished version. What’s the thing you keep reaching for that never quite satisfies? What’s the void you’ve been trying to fill with crackers?

I’m not going to tell you Jesus is a magic fix for your specific situation. He’s not a slot machine. Believing in him doesn’t mean your marriage gets easier, your diagnosis goes away, or your finances sort themselves out.

What it means is that underneath all of those things, there’s a hunger that those things can’t touch. And there’s a claim on the table that says that hunger has an answer.

Stop turning to creation to fill the void that only the Creator can fill.

I don’t know where you’re at with any of this. Maybe you’ve believed it for years and you’re still working out what it means. Maybe you’ve never given it a serious thought. Maybe you had a bad experience with church and you’re reading this with one eyebrow raised.

All of that is fair. But I’d rather you sit with the honest question than walk away with a polite nod.

What are you hungry for? And is what you’re eating actually working?