Lamb of God: SALT's Commentary for Epiphany 2
Epiphany 2 (Year A): John 1:29-42 and Isaiah 49:1-7
Big Picture:
1) Each year the lectionary takes one of the synoptic Gospels (Matthew, Mark, and Luke) as its basis, and weaves in passages from John at key points along the way. This week’s Gospel reading — in which Jesus calls his first disciples — is one of those passages from John; we’ll hear Matthew’s version of part of the same story next week. Likewise, this week’s reading from Isaiah is also on the theme of God’s call.
2) As the Gospel of John opens, religious authorities have just asked John the Baptizer, “Who are you?” — and he responds that he is neither the Messiah, nor Elijah, nor Moses, but rather is a forerunner and herald of the Messiah, who even now stands “among you” (John 1:26). Who is it? This week’s passage, which takes place “the next day,” answers that question (John 1:29).
3) This week’s reading from Isaiah is the second of four “servant songs” in the book (the other three are 42:1-9; 50:4-11; and 52:13 - 53:12). Across these four songs, sometimes the servant seems to be an individual (perhaps Jacob), and other times a group (perhaps the people of Israel). Over the centuries, many Christian interpreters have used the ideas in the servant songs to throw light on the identity and mission of Jesus of Nazareth.
4) Reading these passages from Isaiah and John side-by-side opens up an opportunity to reflect on the theme of “calling” or “vocation.” And what better time of year to do so than January, with the air still full of new resolutions? What's more, since Matthew’s passage next week is on the same theme, a two-week reflection on "calling" might work nicely.
Scripture:
1) At first glance, John the Baptizer’s name for Jesus — “the Lamb of God” — seems to cast Jesus as a kind of sin offering who “takes away the sin of the world” (John 1:29). But at least three factors point in a quite different direction, suggesting that “the Lamb of God” isn’t about atonement at all.
2) First, in those days, bulls, goats, and adult sheep were the typical animals used in sin offerings — not lambs. Second and more decisively, later in the story, John (the Gospel writer, not the Baptizer) implicitly identifies Jesus with the Passover lamb, and in first-century Jewish life, the Passover lamb wasn’t a sin offering or atonement sacrifice. Rather, the lamb was a ritual remembrance of the Exodus story in which a lamb’s blood protected the ancient Israelites from death, thereby making possible their liberation from Egyptian enslavement (Ex 12:1-13). As a name for Jesus, then, “the Lamb of God” is less about expiation of sin and more about liberation from sin and its constraining, oppressive, death-dealing effects.
3) Indeed, for all four Gospel writers, Jesus comes to inaugurate a New Exodus: not from captivity in Egypt, but rather from the even broader, deeper captivity that holds all of us back from being the children of God we’re created to be. So yes, Jesus comes to “take away the sin of the world” — in the same way a liberator comes to “take away” the shackles of captivity. Accordingly, John (both the Baptizer and the Gospel writer!) poetically links Jesus to the Exodus narrative, calling him not the Goat of God or the Bull of God, for this is no sin or atonement offering — but rather the Lamb of God, the new Passover lamb. In this way, the “Lamb of God” idea frames John’s Gospel, like bookends (John 1:29; 19:36; compare Ex 12:46; Num 9:12).
4) Third and finally, the word John uses for “takes away” in this passage is illuminating: airo means “to raise, to lift up, to take away, to remove.” It’s the same word used in John 20 (“the stone had been removed [airo] from the tomb”) and in John 11 (“the Romans will come and destroy [airo] both our holy place and our nation”) (John 11:48; 20:1). So yes, Jesus comes to “take away [airo] the sin of the world,” in the sense of rolling it out of the way, destroying it, abolishing it — or “lifting” it in the sense of ending or annulling it, as in “lifting a ban.”
5) In the second part of the passage, John’s story of Jesus calling the first disciples underlines the idea that discipleship arises in various circumstances, in various ways, among people with various needs and temperaments. Andrew decides to follow Jesus after both John the Baptizer’s endorsement and spending a day with Jesus where he was staying (John 1:36,39; the word translated “remained” here is meno, “abide,” a key verb repeated more than 40 times in the Gospel of John). Simon, for his part, decides to follow Jesus based on Andrew’s recommendation and, perhaps, Jesus’ startling recognition and welcome (John 1:41-42). And in the verses that immediately follow this week’s reading, Philip’s decision is a direct, immediate response to Jesus’ simple summons, “Follow me” — while Nathanael, on the other hand, is a cynical skeptic, signing on only after Jesus impresses him with apparently preternatural knowledge about Nathanael himself (John 1:43-51).
6) Strikingly, in all of these encounters, Jesus makes no explicit arguments, no “pitches” about the benefits of following him. Rather, he asks a question (“What are you looking for?”) and offers an invitation (“Come and see” — a phrase later echoed by Philip (John 1:46)). The powers of hospitality and experience seem to supersede debate and explicit rationale. For both Jesus and Philip, “come and see” is their signature mode of spreading the good news and recruiting disciples.
7) The servant in Isaiah, though called by God even before birth, is initially an unimpressive failure: “I have labored in vain, I have spent my strength for nothing and vanity” (Isa 49:4). But this failure turns out to be part of the point, for God calls people from unlikely ranks, even among those “deeply despised, abhorred by the nations, the slave of rulers” (Isa 49:7). Precisely such a servant, God insists, will be the instrument through which God restores Israel — and not only Israel, for that would be “too light a thing” on its own (Isa 49:6). God has an even bigger, breathtaking vision in mind, one that begins with Israel and extends to the whole creation: “I will give you as a light to the nations, that my salvation may reach to the end of the earth” (Isa 49:6).
Takeaways:
1) When we “behold the Lamb of God,” we aren’t looking at a sin or atonement offering, but rather a Passover lamb in a new rendition of the Exodus story, in which God makes it possible for God’s children to move from enslavement to freedom, “taking away” (or “rolling away”) the obstacles of sin in our path. John the Baptizer’s message is clear: Just as the Passover lamb protects and liberates, so does Jesus — follow him!
2) Stories of “calling” and discipleship take many forms. Andrew gets a trusted recommendation and a day with Jesus; Philip jumps aboard right away; Nathanael engages in skeptical debate; and Isaiah’s servant initially feels incapable (“I have labored in vain”). In short, there’s no single way to receive and respond to God’s call, and there’s plenty of room under the tent: room for those ready to take the plunge, room for those who'd rather put a toe in first — and room for those who doubt they’re up to it at all.
3) Whatever our story, however, God’s calling is never for our sake alone; it’s always also for the sake of others, and ultimately for the sake of creation: “that my salvation may reach to the end of the earth” (Isa 49:6). It’s “too light a thing” to focus only on ourselves. Like ripples from raindrops on the surface of a pond, God’s liberating love and redemption continually expand outward, beyond the self, beyond family, beyond community, beyond religion, beyond humanity — finally to embrace the whole world and all its creatures. Even enemies ultimately will be included, Isaiah declares. Even Egypt, the paradigmatic oppressor in the Israelite imagination, will be delivered in the end (see Isa 19:19-22)!
4) One of the most celebrated pocket-sized definitions of vocation is Frederick Buechner’s: “The place God calls you to is the place where your deep gladness and the world’s deep hunger meet.” It’s a lovely definition — but it sometimes doesn’t seem to fit. Moses, for example, doesn’t demonstrate much “deep gladness” when God calls him at the burning bush (Moses sums up the discussion with, “O my Lord, please send someone else!” (Ex 4:13)); nor does Isaiah’s “servant” initially feel qualified and competent (“I have spent my strength for nothing and vanity” (Isa 49:4)). In the Gospels, too, the disciples typically experience their calling as leading them toward difficulty, not away from it. In the end, while Buechner’s formula is still a valuable discernment tool, so is its complementary opposite: “The place God calls you to is the place where your deep discomfort (or ambivalence, or insecurity) and the world’s deep blessings meet.”
5) Finally, Jesus’ words (and Philip’s echo of them) — “Come and see” — stand out this week as a witness and a challenge. For both Andrew and Nathanael, and for many of us besides, second-hand reports just won’t do. We want to come and see for ourselves. For John, this is the primary mode of spreading the good news and growing the community of disciples, and we are wise to do the same. Try this line of thought with your community or congregation: If we were to invite a friend to experience the best of our life and work with this simple, three-word invitation, to what specifically would we invite them? A worship service, a meal, a service project, a prayer meeting, a vigil, a rally? When and where do we most vividly, experientially embody the Gospel we proclaim? What in particular might someone “come and see” in our community that might cause them to decide to step more fully into God’s mission of liberation, love, and joy?