Don Friesen
When my mother passed away my sister divided up a big pile of photographs that my parents kept in a cardboard box. Some of them are very old and a little worse for wear, but I find them interesting.
It's fun to go through old photographs, and the season of Epiphany presents us with a gallery of photographs of Jesus. And if you thought the snapshots I showed you were a little blurry from this distance, the same may be said of the array of New Testament snapshots we have of Jesus. The mists of time have obscured details in some of the pictures, and metaphors no longer in heavy use do little to enhance the picture. You would need more than a Photoshop computer programme to enhance these pictures.
Last Sunday we looked at one of the pictures, a portrait of Jesus as a servant, a suffering servant intent on establishing justice on earth, especially for those on the margins of our economy and society. Today's image of Jesus is that of a lamb. It is mentioned twice in our Gospel reading. When John the Baptist "saw Jesus coming toward him," he declared, "Here is the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world!" (John 1:29) Then a little later — the next day, in fact — John was "standing with two of his disciples, and as he watched Jesus walk by, he exclaimed, "Look, here is the Lamb of God!" (1:35-36)
Behold — Wait until you see this!
Now, the New Revised Standard Version of the Bible relates this in a rather prosaic way. The older Revised Standard Version does a better job, with John saying, "Behold, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world!" and again, "Behold, the Lamb of God!" The word, "Behold," is an archaic word, but it conveys the special attention being requested. If you were walking through an art gallery or a photographic exhibition with a friend, it's as if the friend suddenly touched your arm, pointing excitedly, and said, "Oh, you have to see this one!"
The Gospel of Matthew uses this exclamatory statement a lot:
The exclamatory "behold" is much stronger than "look" or "see". It invites you to scrutinize that to which attention is being drawn. Scrutinize, consider, concentrate on this person before you. That's the purpose of the New Testament gospels, requesting us to behold, to seriously consider this Servant, this Saviour, this Lord, this Lamb.
The Lamb Snapshot Is a Keeper!
In the days before digital cameras we looked forward to getting our rolls of film back from the store. A few days of anticipation heightened our sense of expectation. Sometimes we were disappointed. Some of the photographs didn't match what we thought we had captured on film. The light was wrong. We snapped the picture a moment too late. There was a lack of focus. The composition was all wrong. And we may have been tempted to throw out an unflattering picture of ourselves. Sometimes, however, we got lucky. I never developed much photographic skill myself, but I have a few pictures in my collection that are keepers.
The New Testament snapshot of Jesus as a lamb is a keeper. People through the ages have loved it. It's an image dear to liturgy, literature and music. In fact, the Church has embraced this image more than any other, save for the crucifix. It's been embedded in liturgy since the eighth century, when Pope Surgius made the Agnus Dei a part the mass:
"Lamb of God, that takest away the sins of the world, have mercy upon us.
No name of Jesus has been dearer to Christian devotional thought and language than this one. It's been the recipient of numerous elegant musical settings. It's found often in our hymns:
The Church through the ages has been very fond of this symbol, designating it, for instance, as the emblem of a fourth century martyr named Agnes, one of the most famous of Roman martyrs — a girl who at a very young age refused to abandon her practice of the Christian faith and consequently suffered death for her courageous witness.
What Does John's Snapshot Reveal?
Margaret Laurence begins her novel, The Diviners, with Morag digging out some old snapshots, of which she says, "I keep the snapshots not for what they show but for what is hidden in them." (page 6) Looking at one particular snapshot, of her sitting primly on a piano stool peering fixedly at the sheet music in front of her, she says, "My concentration appears to indicate interest and even enthusiasm. I did not yet know that I was severely myopic and had to peer closely to see anything at all." (page 10)
Photographs, as we well know, are seldom candid; we like to pose for pictures. We want to look our best, or, failing that, play to the camera. In the box of family photographs I inherited, for example, there are very few photographs of my father looking natural; he's always hamming it up for the camera — because he was a very private person, I think. Most family albums are full of pictures of "happy families," though there are some people who have become skilled at reading the subtle cues evident even in posed pictures.
In trying to determine what the Gospel of John is trying to tell us with the picture of Jesus as a lamb, the context is very important. What is in the background of the pictures? What are the surrounding details? For example, for years my wife, Dorothy, wore a locket with a picture of a lamb inside, which may seem a strange thing to do unless you're inordinately fond of lambs! If you look more closely at the tiny picture, however, you will see that it's me holding the lamb. If you were familiar with the setting, you would see that the picture was taken at Uncle Hermann's farm near Yorkton, Saskatchewan. It's also helpful to know that the picture was taken before we were married. And if you're familiar with my wife's family history, you will know that all five of the Deckert women paraded potential suitors in front of their Yorkton relatives as a test of their suitability and durability. And thus Dorothy's locket really contained a picture of two sacrificial lambs!
What Do we See in the Background?
Eighteenth-century poet William Blake (1757-1827), in his book, Songs of Innocence, wrote a poem about a little lamb and its ...
"clothing of delight,
("The Lamb," 1789)
In and of itself a lamb suggests a cute, cuddly little animal, its soft wooly clothing begging to be held and petted. Much depends on the how you fill in the background. As we zoom out, background details fill in the picture. For example, if you take a look at the lamb that appears on the cover of our hymnal, you'll notice that the artist has filled in the picture with a few briars, or thorn bushes. Not sufficient for Mennonites to put together a book of songs to express their joy in a way that they do so well, expressing their joy with the playfulness of a gambolling little lamb — No! — they have to surround the lamb with thorns! According to those who put together this hymnal, however, the lamb in the midst of briars is a traditional Anabaptist symbol, illustrating the suffering Lamb of God, who calls the faithful to obedient and sacrificial service.
If you look closely at the New Testament picture of the lamb, you may notice some Old Testament colouring in the background, and the colour is red! The colour of blood! In the Book of Exodus, the blood of a slaughtered lamb smeared on doorposts spared the Israelites from the judgment inflicted upon the Egyptians. (Exodus 12:3-13)
If you look closely at the lamb itself, you may notice that it is a wounded lamb. In Isaiah 53 the suffering servant of the Lord is likened to a lamb prepared for slaughter, whose vicarious sacrifice atones for the sins of wayward sheep. Isaiah says that the Suffering Servant is "like a lamb that is led to the slaughter, and like a sheep that before its shearers is silent...." (Isaiah 53:7) Isaiah then goes on to tell us that it was the will of God that this Servant would make "his life an offering for sin," and that he "bore the sin of many...." (53:10, 12)
The escape from Egypt suggests that this lamb is the means of deliverance from the things that bedevil us. The children of Israel were taken out of Egypt in a massive and unforgettable act of liberation. They were freed from the slavery and suffering they'd known there. Isaiah's description of the Suffering Servant suggests a similar liberation from that which ensnares or crushes us, for "he was wounded for our transgressions, crushed for our iniquities; upon him was the punishment that made us whole, and by his bruises we are healed." (Isaiah 53:6) This is why we sing:
"And when from death I'm free
(Hymnal: A Worship Book, #530)
There is, of course, another New Testament snapshot of Jesus as a lamb. In fact, it's the dominant lamb image in the New Testament, and it's found in the Book of Revelation. Revelation uses the image of a lamb more than any other book in the Bible, but it adds a few finishing touches to the picture. The perspective is slightly different; the lighting has changed. The briars and blood are not as dominant, a crown is added to the lamb's head, and the lamb is carrying a banner of victory in token of Christ's resurrection. As I mentioned earlier, the motif of the triumphant Lamb is of ancient origin, dating back to the catacombs.
Whereas the blood and the slaughter associated with the Old Testament images of the lamb suggest suffering and vulnerability and obedience, in Revelation the lamb is an image of power! Power and authority! Its lamb is a Conquering Lamb. It's interesting that this is the lamb to which the late, devout peace scholar, John Howard Yoder, refers on the title-page of his book, The Politics of Jesus, with the Latin statement, "Vicit agnus foster," meaning "our lamb conquers".
We read in Revelation that "...they will make war on the Lamb, and the Lamb will conquer them, for he is Lord of lords and King of kings...." (Revelation 17:14) This is an image intended to convey not only the power of Jesus to forgive sins, but also the power of Jesus and his followers to oppose evil. Ultimately this lamb will control history, presiding over the destinies of nations and the future of the world. This lamb is worshipped, worthy to receive power and wealth and wisdom and might and honour and glory and blessing!" (5:12)
The Lamb of God Spills out of the Frame
At Sandra and Kieran's wedding last summer the photographer took a picture of all of the wedding guests. At least that was the idea for this Kodak moment, but the photographer had to keep backing up and climbing higher on his step-ladder in order to squeeze all of us into his viewfinder. I don't know if we all made it or not; it could be that some of us spilled out of the frame.
Sometimes it's difficult to squeeze everything into one snapshot. And for Jesus, who was, and is, larger than life, it's difficult for him not to spill over the limited frames of our understanding. It's also difficult to "frame" a living picture. The image of the lamb is itself a dynamic image within the pages of the Bible. Interesting that the Book of Revelation, which favours the Lamb of God image, also refers to Jesus as a lion! The lion of Judah. (Revelation 5:5) It's hard to contain all of the facets of this messianic character.
Jesus as the lamb of God is an important New Testament image, and even within our short Gospel reading the epiphany of Jesus as the Lamb of God sets off a series of repercussions. Twice John the Baptist sees Jesus and exclaims, "Behold, the Lamb of God!" (John 1:29, 36) The second time he said it some of his own disciples were so intrigued that they followed Jesus to his home, with the result that after their conversation with Jesus, one of them, Andrew, hurried off to find his brother, Simon, telling him: "We have found the Messiah!" (1:41) Whereupon Simon came to see Jesus for himself, and Jesus gave him the name, Peter.
A character in a novel by James Joyce describes an epiphany as a "sudden spiritual manifestation — the most delicate and evanescent focussing moment." There are moments, words, or images that have the power to bring things into focus for us, a moment when major elements of life fall into place, and we never look at life again without reference to that moment.
John the Baptist had such a moment — twice! John's moment led to Andrew's moment, which in turn led to a special moment for Simon, who himself would have many moments in which further recognition of Jesus' character and destiny would influence his own destiny.
And so the image of Jesus as the Lamb of God spills out of it's initial frame, making an impact on several disciples; then spills out of its Gospel frame, into the larger New Testament frame, and finally into the life of the Church — in the catacombs and in early Christian iconography — until, like a never-ending series of dominoes, the image continues to make an impact on us.
Our Image of Jesus Makes a Difference and Has an Impact
During the season of Epiphany we struggle with who Jesus is and what he means for us. Our answer to that question has important implications. It has implications for what kind of people we become, and that cannot be hidden. It will have an impact, for better or for worse.
Cornelia Lehn tells the story of a time in Russia — around 1930 — when life was hard and people could not talk openly about their faith. Many were sent to the mines to work and experienced great hardship. The cruelty of the officers in charge made life almost unbearable, as we well know from the novels of Alexandre Solzynitsin. Those in charge of the labour camps ranted and raved and took any opportunity they could to break the spirit of the prisoners.
One supervisor at the camp, however, was different. Everyone noticed it. Whenever this supervisor gave an order, he did so in a firm but kind voice. He looked at the prisoners with respect. He didn't expect the impossible from them. Whenever he could, he tried to give them some measure of relief from their misery.
One of the prisoners often wondered about this supervisor. What made him act differently toward the prisoners? He wondered if the supervisor might be a Christian. The prisoner wished he could find out, because he himself was a Christian and felt very lonely not knowing whether there was anyone else in the camp who followed Jesus. He dare not go to the supervisor and ask him, since being a Christian was considered a crime and would only worsen his punishment.
One day the prisoner happened to meet the supervisor in a hallway. Quickly he stepped up to the supervisor and said in a low voice, "You are different. Tell me, why is it that you are so kind to us?" The supervisor looked at the prisoner and then said, guardedly, "I have a father who taught me to act in this way." The answer surprised but encouraged the prisoner, and he asked, "Could it be that we have the same Father?"
Both men understood. They looked at each other intently and then clasped hands in a firm handshake. They knew that they were both children of their heavenly Father and could trust each other. Acting like a child of God, a follower of the Lamb of God, had given the supervisor away. ("Children of the Same Father," Peace Be with You, page 90)
Our image of Jesus makes a difference and it has an impact. May our views of Jesus be true to his spirit, and allow others to catch a glimpse of his spirit in us.
The Epiphany Gallery
The Gospel of John also uses the word, saying, "Behold, your king is coming, sitting on an ass's colt!" (John 12:15, RSV) Or the dramatic moment when Pilate addresses the people, saying, "Behold your King!" (19:14, RSV)
"Lamb of God, that takest away the sins of the world, have mercy upon us.
"Lamb of God, that takest away the sins of the world, grant us thy peace."
The lamb of God has also been a favourite image in Christian art and architecture, sometimes showing the Lamb lying on the Book of Seven Seals, a theme taken from the Book of Revelation (5:12); sometimes showing the Lamb carrying a banner of victory in token of Christ's resurrection — a motif of ancient origin, often seen in Rome's catacombs; sometimes showing a wounded Lamb, reminding us of the bitter agony preceding Christ's triumph.
Softest clothing wooly bright;
...such a tender voice,
Making all the vales rejoice!"
I'll sing and joyful be,
and through eternity I'll sing on."
All quotations of Scripture, unless otherwise noted, are from the New Revised Standard Version.