Behold the Lamb of God
John 1:29-42
About a week and a half ago, I worked alongside many volunteers to remove Christmas decorations from our sanctuary and chapel. I love how beautiful our sanctuary looks during Advent and Christmas. The banners with the words “Love,” “Peace,” Hope”, and “Joy”, the colorful poinsettias, the lighted trees up near the communion table, the Christmas tree right next to the pulpit, the banners in the chapel, the Advent wreath, the shining star, and the manger scene outside are such wondrous reminders of what God has done in the incarnation- Emmanuel, God with us, the birth of God in human form in the Christ child. It isn’t easy to take them all down. Part of me wants to keep those decorations up, right on through the church year. When all the decorations are removed, the chapel and sanctuary initially appear somewhat stark, stripped bare. I find myself wanting to linger a bit longer at the manger, to ponder the bright star in the sky and sing a few more Christmas hymns, but am forced to set my face towards Lent- a time of remembering our sinfulness, Christ’s suffering, and his death on the cross. This bare chapel/sanctuary and today’s passage from the Gospel of John begin to move all of us on that same path from Christmas towards Lent and Easter, whether we are ready or not.
I have had the opportunity on several occasions over many years to sing solos from Handel’s Messiah. I love Handel’s masterful work, which was miraculously written in a span of 24 days in 1741. This masterpiece has stood the test of time for 285 years. The work is a testament to both librettist Charles Jennen’s and Handel’s faith in God and in the life of Jesus Christ and is most often performed at Christmastime. Yet, in reality, it comprises two parts: the Christmas story and the Easter story. I even assembled a small orchestra and a group of singers to perform only the Easter parts for my senior thesis while at seminary. Singing the whole of the Messiah is much like journeying from the manger to the empty grave in about 2 hours.
The chorus that introduces the Easter section, “Behold the Lamb of God,” is a beautiful piece of music about John the Baptist's vision of Christ. I’m going to ask our AV squad to play it for you now, so that you can understand how reverent, somber, and somewhat sad it is. (The 8 am service will hear the chorus on CD)
Clearly, Handel and Jennens captured the mood perfectly for this phrase spoken by John. The Messiah also focuses on Isaiah 53, which speaks of the Messiah as a suffering servant, emphasizing the suffering of one who was “like a lamb that is led to the slaughter.” (Isaiah 53:7) When John uttered this phrase twice, “Behold the lamb of God,” what did he mean by it? Was he hearkening back to this notion of a suffering Messiah from Isaiah 53?
When John called Jesus “The Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world,” this phrase has a connection all the way back to the time of Passover, when God passed over and then spared the Israelites in Egypt, while striking down firstborn Egyptians. (Exodus 12) Whoever had the blood of a lamb that was perfect and without blemish smeared upon their doorposts was saved. This was the final plague upon Pharaoh and Egypt, which allowed God’s people to leave in freedom. There is another connection between Jesus and the Passover: Jesus died during the Passover week. In John's account, Jesus is called “the Lamb of God,” indicating his sacrificial nature as one who would save the people of God from the plague of sinfulness.
Now, John, the gospel writer, sought to emphasize this point as well, particularly in the first interaction between John the Baptist and Jesus. The Gospel of John differs from the accounts of Matthew, Mark, and Luke in its description of this encounter.
In the other three gospels, the purpose of John’s water baptism was repentance for the forgiveness of sins. How John ever came to baptize the Hebrew people for repentance is somewhat of a mystery to scholars. Devout Jewish people would have an immersion pool in their homes for bathing after contact with anything unclean. (e.g., Lev 15). Priests would also wash their hands and feet before making an offering (Ex 30:18,‑21). But these washings were for specific occasions. A few passages in the Hebrew scriptures allude to a more all-encompassing cleansing. God "will sprinkle clean water" upon Israel and they "shall be clean" from all their "uncleanliness" and from all their "idols" (Ezek 36:25) David prays that God "wash him thoroughly" from his sin (adultery with Bathsheba; Ps 51:2). Zechariah promises a future “fountain to cleanse the house of David from sin and impurity" (Zech 13:1). Thus, John seems to have adapted the function of the immersion pool into a symbol of more generalized cleansing from all sin. This idea of John forgiving sins through baptism raised questions, at least for Matthew, about why Jesus would need to submit to it, and it confuses Jesus’ particular role as the only one who would forgive people their sins.
Yet here in John’s gospel, there is absolutely no connection between John’s act of baptizing and repentance or forgiveness. In John’s Gospel, John the Baptist merely baptizes with water and the Spirit to prepare the way for the Messiah. John explains the "reason" for his baptisms, and he relates them solely to the purpose that the one "who ranks ahead of him, because he was before him, might be revealed to Israel" (1:30-31). John prepares the way and clarifies who Jesus is, the Lamb of God, the one whose blood saves the people from their sinfulness. Unlike the other accounts in Scripture, it is no longer John who, through his call to a baptism of repentance, opens the way to forgiveness; rather, forgiveness is accomplished through Jesus’ identity as the Lamb of God.
In verse 36, John reiterates that Jesus is “The Lamb of God”. This phrase recruits Jesus’s first two disciples, who began to follow him. Jesus turns around and asks them, “What are you looking for?” The two call him “Rabbi”- teacher- They wanted instruction from the Lamb of God about Godly things. Then they say something that seems a bit cryptic in English—"Where are you staying?" (1:38). It may seem that they just blurted out these words to hopefully begin a conversation. Still, the phrase employs a Greek verb, meno meno, that recurs frequently at key points in this gospel. Meno really means “remaining”. Much more than just an attempt at small talk or a request for an address, "Where are you staying?" and Jesus’s response, "Come and see," are, respectively, a request for and permission to remain in a relationship that will change Andrew, the other unnamed disciple, and Simon forever.
They have come to believe Jesus is the Messiah in part because of John’s proclamation- “Behold the lamb of God!” They would understand who Jesus was even more as they journeyed through their relationship with him, remaining with him throughout his ministry, suffering, death, and resurrection.
We too are on that same journey- We cannot stay at the manger, or in a sanctuary decorated for Christmas, for that is only our beginning. We, too, must journey in relationship with the Lamb of God, learn his teachings, hear the story of his betrayal, suffering, and death, and experience the joy of his resurrection. We, too, must rely upon and give thanks for the sacrifice of the Lamb of God, so that we can obtain forgiveness, begin anew, and extend that forgiveness to others.
During my last call in Fort Bragg, CA, I recall that one January, I was putting away all the Advent and Christmas decorations by myself when I noticed something. In my haste to get things put away, I grabbed the wooden manger scene outside and saved some time. Instead of placing it with the other Advent Christmas items, I just stored it in a closet near the sanctuary. Then, a couple of days later, I looked again at where I had quickly placed the manager and noticed it was against the wall, on the base of the cross we would use for the flowered cross on Easter Sunday. The shadow of the cross was over the manger. In retrospect, I would imagine God wanted me to place it there and cannot think of a more fitting place for it to be stored- the cross and the manger, together as one.
Anne Weems, in her poem, " The Cross in the Manger, wrote-
“If there is no cross in the manger, there is no Christmas.”
I would add that if the child in that manager doesn’t become the Adult, there is no reconciliation.
If there is no reconciliation, we cannot call Christ “Lamb of God.”
If there is no forgiveness for us or in us, there is no cause for hope amid a dark and broken world. There is no new life.
May God be with us, as we reluctantly follow Jesus from the manger to an empty tomb, for you cannot have one without the other. Alleluia Amen.

