Here is the Lamb of God

Scripture Lessons: Isaiah 49: 1-7 and John 1: 29-42 Sermon title: Here is the Lamb of God Preached on January 15, 2023 What was it about Jesus? There must have been something about Him, for this second Scripture lesson from the Gospel of John describes the sacred moment when John the Baptist recognizes Him and greets Him. What we’ve just read is the Messiah’s first public appearance in the Gospel of John. So far as we know from the Gospel of John, John the Baptist and Jesus have never met. However, John knew it was his job to prepare the way for the Messiah, only how would John recognize Him? What was it about Jesus? God provided no physical description, so how did John know it was Him? I imagine John the Baptist standing there at the riverside like a limo driver waiting at the airport, trying to give a ride to someone’s he’s never met. How would John know that it was Jesus? Did Jesus have on a name tag? No. We just read John saying: I myself did not know him, but the one who sent me said, “He on whom you see the Spirit descend is the one.” There must have been something about Him. There must have been something about Jesus that set Him apart from all those who crowded around John the Baptist at the riverside, for John the Baptist knew it was Him right away, saying, “Here is the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world!” Clearly, there was something special about Jesus. However, Jesus being special is not worth preaching a sermon about. We all already know that there was something special about Jesus. What if there was also something special about John? Today, I ask you to think with me about what it was about John the Baptist. In recognizing Jesus, calling Him by name, and identifying Him as the “Lamb of God,” John demonstrates a skill in short supply in our world today, for in our world today many people are not being noticed. Many are walking around, not recognized but ignored, not called by name but overlooked, not identified but misunderstood. As our second Scripture lesson describes how John welcomed Jesus, there is a part of me that wonders if John the Baptist welcomed everyone this way, and that idea gets to the other great question I have about John the Baptist: What was it about John that made him so magnetic? We know from Scripture that John was dressed in an animal hair tunic with a leather belt around his waist, eating wild honey way out there in the wilderness, yet crowds of people made their way out to hear him. That should surprise us because the Bible describes him as though he were like any sidewalk, doomsday preacher you’ve ever seen. He had a one-line sermon that would have fit on a panel of a cardboard box: I am the voice of one crying out in the wilderness, “Make straight the way of the Lord.” A modern paraphrase might be, “Repent sinner, for the end is near,” however, rather than crowds of people looking down, and hoping to make it past him so that they can get on their way, people went out to the wilderness. People sought John out to listen to him. Why? What was it about John? For not only was his message brief and gloomy, but John was also dressed worse than a sidewalk preacher in his tunic made of camel hair with a belt around his waist. Why would anyone listen to him when the priests in the city had these beautiful robes, flowing and majestic. More than that, John had the river, and the priests had a temple. I don’t imagine John even had a lectern to place his sermon notes on, while the priests in the city spoke from a place of authority in a beautiful building that took generations to construct. Outside that temple were money changers and animals to buy. Did John have a marketplace to help you make your sacrifice? Did John have great scrolls of wisdom to read from? Why were all those crowds of people going out of their way to hear what John had to say? I have one guess: that just as John saw Jesus, so John would have seen you. There was something about John. His spiritual gift was speaking the truth, recognizing special people who walked up to him, and while Jesus is especially special, in the eyes of God, all people are special. However, few are the John the Baptists of the world who take the time to notice. John saw people. Have you ever been seen? Maybe you have, and it’s hard to explain what it feels like to be seen. It’s maybe easier to explain what it feels like to be ignored or mistaken. Misunderstood or overlooked. Years ago, when I was a student in seminary, just training to be a pastor, a friend and classmate Stephanie Coble and I would substitute preach. When a pastor at a small church wanted to take a vacation, he could call the seminary and get a seminary student to drive down to fill the pulpit for the day. This was great practice for us, plus we could make a little bit of money. Stephanie and I divided the service, about the way Cassie and I do. Sometimes I’d preach, and she’d lead the liturgy. Sometimes she’d preach, and I’d lead the liturgy, but every time we’d walk into these churches, the warm-hearted people who would show us around and give us the bulletin would direct all their comments to me. Sometimes, they’d hand me the bulletin and would walk me through the order of worship when Stephanie was the preacher. I’d interrupt and suggest that they give her these instructions. Sometimes they would. Sometimes, they’d just go on addressing me as the preacher and ignoring her. Have you ever felt ignored or mistaken? Misunderstood or overlooked? Undervalued, snubbed, slighted, disparaged, or ridiculed? Those are bad feelings that many of you have felt before. On the other hand, have you ever been seen? In our world today, it happens, and that feeling of being seen is a warm, bright light in a world that can seem so cold. The places where we’re seen are so magnetic that I can imagine people leaving the city and streaming out to the riverside, simply because the riverside was a special place. Special, not because the preacher dressed well or there was anything remarkable about the setting or the message, but simply because in a world where we often feel ignored or mistook, it feels so good to be seen. There’s a song about a place where people feel seen that you probably know. Making your way in the world today Takes everything you’ve got Taking a break from all your worries Sure would help a lot Wouldn’t you like to get away? All those nights when you’ve got no lights The check is in the mail And your little angel Hung the cat up by its tail And your third fiancé didn’t show Sometimes you want to go Where everybody knows your name And they’re always glad you came You want to be where you can see Our troubles are all the same You want to be where everybody knows your name What I’ve realized lately is that Cheers, a show named after a bar, has the best theme song for a church. Maybe that theme song is the right theme song for our church. John the Baptist stood out by the riverside looking into the eyes of people, watching them as they approached, calling them by name, and offering them relief from the worries of the day. More than that, he preached a message assuring them that Someone was coming, the Messiah Himself, who would change the world by toppling the powers that had dehumanized them, for in the eyes of the Messiah, they were all precious. When the Messiah showed up, John the Baptist recognized Him, saying, “Here is the lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world,” for He is the incarnation of the God who knows the number of hairs on your head. Who knit you together in your mother’s womb. Who calls you precious and beloved. Redeemed and forgiven. Blessed and worthy of love. If only we, as a church, did this one small thing, looking into each other’s eyes, calling each other by name, recognizing the miracle that we all are, would it not change the world? There is a painting downstairs that I’ve long walked past without noticing. It’s a painting of a cavernous cathedral at night. You know it’s at night because the only light is near the chancel at the front, where golden crosses glimmer and a pastor preaches in an illuminated pulpit. The light is at the front, save the light illuminating from Jesus who sneaks along the back row, reaching out to touch the shoulder of a figure veiled in shadow, too ashamed, too grief stricken, too modest, too brokenhearted to sit with the rest of the congregation in the front. Many walked past this man without noticing, but not Jesus. Jesus saw him. I say John would have seen him too, but what about you? Would you have seen him? Would you dare to see the one veiled in shadow, honoring the example of the One who came to earth to see you? Would you dare to help make this church a place that feels like Cheers: Where everybody knows your name? And they’re always glad you came? Would you dare to believe that such a church would be a miracle? I’ve heard that there is a church in Atlanta that has a snow machine in the room where the youth group meets. I dare you to believe that there is a teenager in that youth group who would rather be seen and heard than stand under a snow machine. Likewise, I haven’t heard it, but there might be a church that has a better choir than ours. I haven’t heard it, but what if it existed? What if there were a church with a symphony every Sunday, and soloists from the opera? Should such a church exist, I dare you to believe that there would be pew sitters in that church who would rather hear someone call them by name than listen to another note. Better sermons have been preached. Better liturgy has been written. Better technology exists. Better facilities have been built. There are churches in this world that have better stuff than we have. There are also places in this world far more entertaining than this one. Certainly, if you’re looking to be entertained, you are in the wrong place this morning. If you’re looking to cheer for the winning team, you’re in the wrong place. We barely clap here. You can’t cheer in the Presbyterian Church. However, those who walk into the great colosseums and arenas and theaters of this world will be treated more like cattle than people, while my hope for those who walk through our doors is that they will be recognized, called by name, and understood. My friends, all people want to be seen. Will you see them? Will you slow down long enough to see? Will you take the time to remember their names? Will you dare to believe that doing so might make a difference? For here we worship the God who sees us, who loves us, who comes down from heaven to walk beside us and to be baptized along with us. Will you see the person sitting beside you? Will you make this place one where everybody knows your name? And they’re always glad you came? For God is glad. So am I. So must we all be. Amen.