The Lamb That Was Slain
a sermon on John 1.29 & Revelation 5.1-14
by David C. Mauldin
Westminster Presbyterian Church, Mobile, Alabama
The Christian life is a love affair with God. As we love God, we learn to love
our neighbor. God claims us all—heart, mind, soul, and strength. You cannot hold
any part back.
Christian faith is the story of God’s love affair with creation. And this big
story is made up of many smaller stories that you know if you attended Sunday
school. God isn’t contained in books and creeds or even songs, although God uses
all these things to communicate with us. God isn’t contained anywhere. Instead,
God reveals himself when and how he chooses. The stories make us friends with
the people to whom God made himself known, and God uses the stories to make
himself known to us as well.
You know what happens when people share the same stories over and over? They
begin to develop shorthand. This is all that we mean by the word doctrine.
Doctrines are the stories compressed down into just a word or two. If I say “the
doctrine of the incarnation,” then informed Christians know that I am telling
the story of Jesus. Visions of shepherds, angels, and wise men dance in their
heads. Best of all, the more you know, the more you can fit into a little word
or two. Incarnation calls to mind the hymn in Philippians 2: “Though he was in
the form of God, he did not regard equality with God as something to be
exploited, but emptied himself.” In fact, more and more comes to mind until
almost the whole story of God fits into that one word.
Doctrine is the story in capsule form, and theology is nothing more than taking
the one great story of God and making it your story. You learn to live the
story. That makes you a theologian.
There is more than one way, however, to distill the story down. It doesn’t
always take the form of doctrine. Sometimes it comes out as a picture. The
picture may be drawn in paint or stained glass or even words, but whichever it
is, it always translates easily from one form to another. You may have noticed
that I regularly preach doctrine. I take one of the beliefs most cherished among
Christians, draw it out of scripture, and hold it up to the light for all to
admire. Hopefully you do more than admire it; you make it your own. Today I am
preaching doctrine, but it is not a word but a picture. One of the most powerful
images of Jesus Christ in scripture and Christian art is the Lamb that was
slain. This one picture instantly communicates a rich depth of meaning that I
want to be sure you understand. As I said, when we are dealing with the story in
picture form, it easily translates from one medium to another. I can say, “The
Lamb that was slain,” using words. Hearing this, you find it easy to picture it
in your mind. And of course countless drawings and paintings from all ages offer
this picture to our eyes as well as our ears.
Jesus Christ is the lamb that was slain. Picture that in your mind. When I do, I
see an image I must have seen in an icon somewhere but I do not remember where.
I see a lamb. His body faces to the left, but he is looking right at me. His
side is wounded and bloody, but he is standing, and he wears a crown. His front
leg is raised, so that he is holding a shepherd’s crook. It has a small cross
bar, so that it is both a crook and a cross. From it flies a long, thin white
banner of victory. The lamb that was slain. This picture speaks to me of Jesus’
death for my sake, of his victory over death, and of his role as the shepherd of
my soul (which is yet another picture tied in with this one!).
Now that you see this picture, if you want to appreciate it and what it means to
you, you need to know the stories it represents. You will find they range from
Genesis to Revelation. Let’s start at the beginning and work through the Bible
in order.
The first story is set on Mount Moriah, where a brokenhearted Abraham is set to
sacrifice his son Isaac. As I have explained before, this is not a horrible
story about abusing a child. It is a beautiful story told to protect children.
Unlike many of their pagan neighbors, the Israelites did not practice child
sacrifice. God told them this practice was an abomination. Did this mean they
were less devoted to God than their neighbors were to their idols? Not at all!
All they had to do was remember father Abraham. Who was a better friend of God
than he? So if Abraham didn’t do it, no Israelite after him should either. So if
you have a complaint against this text, let it go. You have to appreciate how it
functioned in the Israelite community.
So there is Abraham, his beloved son Isaac bound atop an altar ready for
sacrifice. He raises his knife to do the unthinkable … then suddenly God stops
him. “Do not lay your hand on the boy!” And Abraham looked up and saw a ram,
caught by its horns in a thicket. This he offered to God, and what he had told
his son on the way up the mountain proved true. When Isaac asked why they had
wood but no sacrifice, Abraham had said, “God himself will provide the lamb.”
God didn’t need the sacrifice of Abraham’s son in order to know Abraham loved
God. But we humans needed the sacrifice of God’s Son to know that he loves us.
God gave what he would never allow anyone else to give. When we see this story
in the picture, we know how much God loves us and how precious and painful was
the sacrifice he made for our sake. God did indeed provide a lamb, and that lamb
was Jesus.
The next story is a familiar one. Pharaoh has refused to let the children of
Israel go, so God visits Egypt with ten plagues. The tenth is by far the worst,
the death of every firstborn—human or animal. Yet God offers the Israelites a
protection against the angel of death. They are to take a lamb and sprinkle its
blood on the doorposts of their houses. The angel of death will see the blood
and pass over that house. Hence, the very first Passover. The blood of the
paschal lamb saved those it covered from death.
When Jesus wanted to explain his death to his friends, he used the Passover meal
to do it. The Last Supper—and therefore the Lord’s Supper—has its roots in the
Passover. Its meaning? Jesus death was for others, to save them from death. And,
his death was the path to freedom. The Passover meant the beginning of freedom
for God people. It meant God was keeping some old promises. Jesus death means
the same. The Lord’s Supper is not a doctrine or a picture; it is the story told
through our own actions. When we eat the bread and drink from the cup, we are
remembering Jesus’ death for us, and we are anticipating the heavenly feast that
awaits us in God’s Kingdom. It is a freedom meal, a God-keeping-his-promises
meal. Although Jesus used the bread and cup to explain his death, not the
Passover lamb, when we see the Lamb that was slain, we remember the Passover
lamb. Paul did. He told the Corinthians, “Christ, our paschal lamb, has been
sacrificed” [1 Cor 5.7]. John did too. When he wrote his gospel, he adjusted the
dates a bit, so that he has Jesus die at the exact time the Passover lambs were
slaughtered.
The picture of the Lamb that was slain reminds us of Abraham and Isaac. It
reminds us of the Passover Lamb. It also reminds us of the sacrifices offered in
the Tabernacle and Temple. Leviticus prescribes how an offering should be made:
When a lamb was brought as a sin offering, it had to be without blemish. The
person making the offering would lay hands on it as a way to symbolically
transfer guilt to the lamb. Then it was killed and offered on the altar. [Lev
4.32-35]
When we see the picture of Jesus as the Lamb that was slain, and we remember the
sacrificial system of the Old Testament, two things jump out at us. The first is
the sinlessness of Jesus. He is the perfect lamb without blemish. He was
obedient to his Father in all things—exactly the way we are not. And because of
this, he could take our place and suffer the punishment we deserve. The second
is the way he took our guilt. When he died, our debt died with him. Our guilt is
gone. He took it on himself, paid the full penalty, and left us pure and free.
When we see the picture of the Lamb that was slain, we also think of John the
Baptist. Early in the gospel of John, we read how important people had been
questioning John. They wanted to know who he was and what he was doing. “Are you
the Messiah?” they asked him. He told them, “No, someone is coming after me.”
Then Jesus came along. John pointed to him and said: “Behold the Lamb of God who
takes away the sin of the world!” John was painting a picture, and he was
calling to their minds everything I have already mentioned. And in doing so he
revealed who Jesus was and what he was about.
Then we come to the Book of the Revelation. Twenty-eight times it calls Jesus
“the Lamb.” The passage I read is right at the heart of this picture. Just a
reminder: The Revelation is written in a highly symbolic style. Late in the
first century, Christians were suffering at the hands of a pagan Roman Empire.
They wanted to know: Why does God let this happen? What is God going to do about
it? The Revelation was written to encourage them with the message that God is in
control and he is going to do something. One strategy for showing that God is in
control was to portray heaven, where decisions are made that affect the whole
creation. Chapter 5 is thus set in heaven, and God’s plan for dealing with evil
and setting the world right is described as a scroll. John—not John the Baptist,
but the John who wrote the Revelation—weeps because he wants to see God’s plan
take effect, but no one is found who is worthy to break the seals and open the
scroll.
Suddenly one of the elders around God’s throne tells him to cheer up. There is
someone worthy after all! The Lion of the tribe of Judah, the Root of David, has
conquered; and he is worthy to open the seals. Here are two more pictures. Both
point to the same thing. Because of God’s promises to David, Jews expected the
Messiah to be a descendant of David. Because Jesus is the Messiah, he is called
the Lion of the tribe of Judah and the Root of David. We won’t go into these
pictures today, except to note the surprise we get in the next verse. John is
told to look for a Lion who has conquered. But what does he see when he looks? A
Lamb standing as if it had been slain!
The Revelation draws here on everything I have already told you. Jesus is shown
as a lamb because he was slain for the sins of the world. Yet the Revelation has
something to add. The Lamb is standing as if it had been slain. How would you
stand as if you had been slain? Slain things don’t stand. In the Book of the
Revelation, the Lamb is the risen, victorious Christ. Jesus is not like a lamb
passively slain and then dead. His death is, irony of ironies, a victory and a
conquest. This is why the mighty Lion is the Lamb that was slain.
The passage goes on to describe his wisdom and power—that is the point of the
eyes and horns. He is the object of praise and adoration. When we see the
picture of the Lamb that was slain, we are not supposed to feel pity. This
picture turns everything upside down. The Lamb that was slain is alone worthy of
praise. He alone is worthy to judge and decide the destiny of the world. He
alone shares God’s majesty and glory. All the creatures of heaven do not say,
“Aww, poor little lamb, you were hurt, but you are all better now.” They get
down on their knees and sing the praises of their conquering hero. That too is
what this picture is about. It is about Jesus as Redeemer and Judge. It is about
his wisdom, power, and glory. And it says all this—not in spite of the cross,
but because of it. He is the Lamb that was slain, and for this reason he alone
is worthy.
Jesus is the Lamb that was slain. You see this in pictures. We sing it in songs.
Now you know why. You understand this picture, so that when you see it, you
remember the stories behind it. But understanding it is not enough. Knowing the
stories is not enough. You must also live the story. The story must become your
story, so that you find yourself rescued from sin and death, pure and spotless,
joining your voice with the multitudes of heaven praising the Lamb who was slain
for you.
How do you live it? By faith. You live it by believing the story and acting on
it. You live it by sharing in the Lord’s Supper. By forgiving others. Especially
by giving your praise to God and to the Lamb. Above all you live it by looking
to Jesus as your one hope in life and in death … trusting him to keep all God’s
promises … secure in his love. Amen.
rev_mauldin@yahoo.com
September 2, 2006