Lamb of God

A sermon for this Sunday . . .

If like me you were brought up on the old Prayer Book communion service and the music of Merbecke, then when you see the traditional words in English of the Agnus Dei: “O Lamb of God, that takest away the sins of the world, have mercy upon us” you may well find yourself inwardly at least singing them, as I did as a boy in our church choir. The beauty of the music and the familiarity of the words continue to move me.

But what about the meaning of the words we sing - the title ‘Lamb of God’ that we find in this morning’s Gospel reading? In his Gospel John the Apostle has John the Baptist himself tell the story of the baptism of Jesus; and he begins by calling Jesus “the Lamb of God”. The Gospel of John is often depicted as the deepest and most theologically complex of the four; and you could say that while Matthew, Mark and Luke tell us the story of Jesus, John gives us an extended and reflective sermon on the Christ.

John the Baptist calls Jesus the Lamb of God at the very start of our Lord’s ministry; but it’s a title intimately connected to the way that ministry would end, and one that links him to the salvation history of the Jewish people. Each year the Passover festival called to mind God’s mighty act of salvation, the time when he brought his people out from slavery in Egypt; and at the Passover the people recalled the last and most terrible of the plagues that fell on Pharaoh and the Egyptian people: the slaughter of their first-born - children, animals and all. The people of Israel were told they must insulate themselves from this disaster by killing a yearling sheep or goat and smearing some of the blood on the lintel and doorposts of their homes. And then as the angel of the Lord rampaged through the land wreaking havoc on Pharaoh and his people he passed over the places marked in this way. You can read the story in chapter 12 of the Book of Exodus.

“Behold the Lamb of God,” says John the Baptist. In Jesus, God is preparing a new exodus, a new escape from bondage. Here the work begins that will form a new people of God, a new holy nation. For Jewish people the sacrifice of a lamb in each Jewish home at the Passover Festival was understood as symbolising the work of the Lord as he acted to save his people from their suffering and slavery. So now Jesus is hailed by John: not as a new Moses, a hero to lead the people to freedom, but as the Lamb who will be slain, the sacrificial beast whose blood will be shed.

From start to finish the way he walks is one of self giving and self offering love: the Gospel story is cross-shaped and cross-centred. The medieval mystic writer Mother Julian of Norwich wrote these words, from her understanding of what Jesus was saying to her: “It is a joy, a delight and an endless happiness to me that I ever endured suffering for you.” The lamb sacrificed at Passover is plucked unknowing from the flock to be put to death; but Jesus is the Lamb who offers himself. He goes freely and with loving intent to take the way of the cross; and that way begins with his baptism by John, and the sign there of his Father’s blessing.

We know from Luke that John the Baptist was the son of a temple priest, so it’s fair to assume John would have known all about the rituals and sacrifices performed there. Every morning and every evening a lamb would be offered in sacrifice to atone for the sins of the people. The instruction to do this dates back further than the building of the first temple, all the way back to chapter 29 of the Book of Exodus, where Moses tells the people to offer at first light a yearling ram, and to offer a further yearling straight after sunset. This continued to be done until the destruction of the temple in AD 70. It was done even when the city was under siege, and the people all but starving to death themselves. So it was understood as very necessary, something that had to be done to maintain the right relationship between the people and their God.


But now John says, “Behold the Lamb of God, who takes away the sins of the world.” And maybe here John the Gospel writer is pointing up the useless insufficiency of the sacrifices that had to be offered again and again in the Temple. Was God really placated by such offerings? John the Baptist had turned from the organised religion of the Temple to preach in the wilderness: to preach there a new beginning and to call the people into a new relationship with God; he was there to prepare the way, in the line of the great prophets of old, men who’d looked for the day when God would act to save his people, after God’s people had been so often and so sorely betrayed by those who should have guided and tended them, kings, priests, even prophets.

So now comes the one who, as chapter 53 of the prophet Isaiah says, would “be brought like a lamb to the slaughter.” The sacrificing of animals is, I guess, something quite foreign to our thinking and probably quite abhorrent. It can be hard to relate to the image of a wrathful God who needs to be placated by the offering of blood. But we can perhaps turn that thought on its head; thinking not of God demanding from us, but instead of God giving to us - giving all of himself, making of himself the sacrifice our sin demands. The cross on which the Lamb of God dies convicts us of our sin and our rebelliousness, while at the same time it also draws us to him, to offer our lives for his life, our love for his love.

In Acts chapter 4 we find the apostle Peter saying that salvation is found only in the name of Jesus. Here are some more words from Julian of Norwich, with which I’ll close: “The blessed wounds of our Saviour are open and rejoice to heal us; the sweet, gracious hands of our Mother are ready and carefully surround us; for in all this he does the work of a kind nurse who has nothing to do but occupy herself with the salvation of her child. His task is to save us, and it is his glory to do so, and it is his wish that we know it; for he wants us to love him tenderly, and trust him humbly and strongly. And he showed this in these gracious words, ‘I hold you quite safely.’” Amen.