Behold the Lamb of God that Takes Away the Sin of the World
This was one of those weeks when the lectionary texts are incredibly full of possibilities. We could look toward Isaiah’s call for us to be a light to the nations or follow the invitation of Jesus to “come and see.” But my heart has been especially moved by John the Baptist’s profound declaration: “Behold the lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world.” It feels like a text that belongs to Holy Week. It reminds us that from the very beginning Jesus is focused on his mission.
Behold the Lamb of God that Takes Away the Sin of the World
Author: Alan Swartz
Churches: Ebenezer UMC and Black Creek UMC
Date: January 18, 2026 (The Second Sunday after the Epiphany)
Scripture References: Isaiah 49:1-7; Psalm 40:1-11; 1 Corinthians 1:1-9; John 1:29-42
Introduction: The Abundance of the Word
The lectionary texts for this Sunday presented a unique challenge for me. There are some weeks when I look at the lectionary texts and pray, “Lord, what in the world do you want me to say?” In those moments, the Word feels elusive, and I struggle to find the thread that will speak to our lives. But then there are weeks like this one, where there is such an abundance of possibility that the task is not finding the Word, but discerning which specific truth the Holy Spirit is highlighting for this congregation.
We could focus on Isaiah’s call for us to be a “light to the nations,” reflecting the radiance of Christ into the darkest corners of our world. We could follow the two disciples in John’s gospel as they accept the invitation to “come and see” where Jesus is staying—learning that to stay with him is to stay in motion, moving toward the marginalized.
Yet, as I prepared this week, one verse stood out to me: John the Baptist’s declaration in John 1:29. Standing by the Jordan, he points to Jesus and cries, “Behold the lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world.” This is not merely a title; it is a pivot point in human history. To understand why this declaration is the heart of the Gospel, we must look backward to the blood-stained doorposts of Egypt and forward to the radical, world-transforming vision of the book of Revelation. We cannot truly see where we are going until we stand upon the ground of our history and look forward with the eyes of faith—the history and future of God’s sacrificial deliverance.
The Passover Lamb: A Legacy of Sacrifice and Deliverance
We ground our understanding of Christ in the history of Israel because the gospel does not emerge from a vacuum; it is the fulfillment of a long legacy of deliverance. Throughout the Old Testament, the servants of God are often depicted as sheep led to slaughter for their faithfulness. This imagery find its most powerful historical anchor in the struggle between Moses, Aaron, and Pharaoh. Pharaoh represents the ultimate expression of earthly empire—a power that rules through forceful presence, command, and the economic exploitation of the weak.
Again and again, Pharaoh hardened his heart, content in his own sense of authority and refusing to acknowledge the higher power of the God of the Hebrews. The liberation of the Israelites was not won through a greater military force, but through a specific act of obedience involving a lamb. God instructed the people to sacrifice a lamb and paint its blood upon the doorposts of their homes. When the angel of death visited Egypt, he passed over every house marked by that blood.
This event is remembered and celebrated as the Passover. It established the sacrificed lamb as the symbol of redemption, protection, and life against the backdrop of judgment. As the Apostle Paul would later remind the church in Corinth, “Christ, our pascal lamb, has been sacrificed for us” (1 Corinthians 5:7). This historical event remembered in the observance of Passover is the necessary lens through which we must view the vision of the slaughtered and victorious Lamb who stands at the center of all creation.
The Vision on Patmos: The Paradox of the Lion and the Lamb
In the vision given to John on the island of Patmos, the scriptures utilize a profound biblical paradox to subvert every human expectation of power. John hears the voices of heaven announcing that the redeemed of the Lord number 144,000. While some people read or hear this and fret that heaven might be full, this number is a multiple of twelve and represents the fullness, the totality, of the people of God. You see, when John turns to look, he sees a multitude that cannot be counted (Revelation 7:4,9). John hears one thing and turns to see another.
We also see this pattern of hearing one thing and seeing another in the heavenly court. There is weeping because no one is found worthy enough to open the scroll with seven seals—the scroll of God’s judgment. But a voice cries out that there is one worthy to open the scroll, “Behold, the Lion of Judah!”
Now, when I think about this lion, I do not think of the Cowardly Lion from The Wizard of Oz. I think of a ferocious, deadly beast. A lion has claws, it has teeth, and it has a tremendous, bone-shaking roar. We expect a predator that will tear and destroy the evil of the world. Yet, when John turns to see this Lion, he beholds instead a Lamb that looks as though it had been slain, its throat slit and covered in blood. (see Revelation 5) This is the central paradox of our faith: the Lamb’s apparent weakness is the very source of his ultimate authority. He does not conquer through the ferocity of a predator, but through the self-giving love of a sacrifice.
The Lamb vs. the Empire: A Radical Reversal of Power
To follow the Lamb requires us to distinguish the Kingdom of God from the empires of men. This is a critique that applies not only to ancient Rome but also to the global powers of our own day—whether we speak of the United States, Russia, or China. These empires operate on the principle of Pax Romana, the “Peace of Rome.” It is a peace achieved through military might, economic coercion, and victory in battle. It is a system where kings exploit their subjects and lord their power over the vulnerable for the sake of the state.
The “Peace of the Lamb” is a radical reversal of this system. We call Christ our King, yet his kingship is defined by his bending the knee to wash the feet of his disciples. He is a King who willingly faces execution by the state on behalf of his subjects. While human empires are fragile and destined to collapse because they operate apart from God’s justice, the eternal reign of the Lamb is built on “suffering love” and persistent persuasion. Rome said, “we will have peace through victory,” but the Lamb says we have peace through sacrifice. Where the empire uses death as a weapon of control, the Lamb transforms death into the means of our redemption.
Prevenient Grace and the Call to "Come Out"
This transformation is made possible through the out-pouring of God’s abundant grace. In Revelation 18, a voice cries out: “Come out of her, my people.” This is not a call to move to a different country, but a call to a spiritual exodus. It is a refusal to share in the sins and the “complicity with evil” that defines worldly empires. God does not excuse the systems that harm the innocent, but he provides the grace necessary for us to stand against them.
This provision of grace is essentially the restoration of our capacity to choose. Because our wills can become corrupted by the weight of the world, we require the Lamb’s sacrifice to make grace available to us. God does not use coercive force to impose salvation; he offers suffering love. He enters into human pain and injustice, absorbing the violence of the world to transform it. This grace is what enables our wills to act in a godly manner once more. As we sing in our hymns, there is “nothing but the blood of Jesus” that can mark us for this new life, enabling us to choose the way of the Lamb over the way of the predator.
The Final Vindication: New Creation and Eternal Light
The final destination of the Lamb’s work is the New Jerusalem (see Revelation, chapters 21-22). In this vision of a new heaven and a new earth, the Lamb is the “light” that eliminates all darkness. There is no need for a sun or a moon, for the radiance of the Lamb enlightens the whole of creation.
This signifies God’s absolute refusal to remain distant from our suffering. Through Christ, God has stepped directly into our pain to offer a cosmic vindication. The resurrection of Jesus is not merely a source of personal comfort for the grieving; it is the guarantee that evil will never have the final word. God’s justice will prevail, and all of creation will be renewed.
Today, we are presented with a choice. We can choose the way of the empire—military might, economic coercion, and the pursuit of victory. Or we can choose to follow the sacrificed Lamb of God in humility and self-giving love.
Behold the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world.
+ In the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.
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