Sunday, January 16, 2011

2 Epiphany


January 16, 2011

John 1.29-42

+ Just when you think you might have me all figured out, I might possibly throw you a curve ball. And my latest curve ball is this. There was a period in my life when I actually considered—seriously considered—getting a tattoo.

Now, this was a long time ago. So don’t think that just because I’m heading off for vacation I’ll come back all tattooed.

It’s probably good that I did not get one because I really wasn’t very good at deciding what to get. For a long time I wanted a Superman S on my bicep (a la Jon Bon Jovi—yes, I know, it’s so dumb but at the time I thought it was kind of cool). Then, I thought, maybe I would get a wonderful green Celtic cross. Another time I considered getting a tattoo of Casper the Friendly Ghost (I always loved Casper). The problem with that was, the tattoo would of course be white and I so pale, that no would even would even see one it healed. So, I shot that one down.

Then, one day, like an epiphany, it came to me! I went to a funeral at a Moravian Church and while I was looking through their beautiful hymnal, there, on the cover I saw what I wanted. I wanted the Lamb of God.

Now, I know you might think this was desperately sacrilegious of me, but I didn’t think so. I thought at the time (and I guess I still do) that such a tattoo was actually paying homage to the Lamb of God. I planned to wear the Lamb proudly and as loud proclamation of my faith in that Lamb. But, no matter what you might think about it, I ended up chickening out and never having it done.

But…my decision to do so did instill in me a deep and abiding appreciation for the image of the Lamb of God.

In today’s Gospel reading we find John the Baptist calling out not once but twice, identifying Jesus as the Lamb of God.

Now, when think lamb, we think, no doubt, of a fluffy, sweet animal. We think of a gentle lamb. We think of a pillowy image of sweetness.

But that is not what John saw when he observed Jesus at the Lamb of God. For John, what he observed when he looked at Jesus and saw the Lamb of God walking past, was truly that sacrifice that was seen in the Temple in Jerusalem. There, the lamb was sacrificed as a sin offering for the people. And before John, prophet that he was, walked what we saw one ay being the sacrifice as well. He saw before him not Jesus the man, but the Lamb, broken and bleeding.

In our images of the lab of God, we don’t have just a fluffy little lamb. In our images of the lamb, if you look at them closely, we see the Lamb pierced. We see blood pouring from the side of the Lamb. We see a sacrificed Lamb.

In our Sunday Mass, we have been singing the Agnes Dei—the Lamb of God—after I have broken the bread. I am so happy that we do. This “fraction anthem” as we call it, carries such meaning. In it we sing

Lamb of God, who takes away the sins of the world, Have mercy,

Lamb of God, who takes away the sins of the world, have mercy on us.

Lamb of God, who takes away the sins of the world, grant us peace.

Then you see me hold up the chalice and that broken bread and you hear me say,

“This is the Lamb of God. This is the One who takes away the sins of the world. Happy are we whoa re called to this supper.”

I cannot tell you how many times I have stood at this altar during that anthem and looked down at the broken bread on that paten and looked into that cup and had a moment of spiritual clarity.

So many times I have looked at the broken bread and the cup and thought, this is Jesus. This is the Lamb of God.

For me, that moment of spiritual clarity is very much like the moment John announces Jesus as the Lamb. For me, it might as well be the Baptist’s voice in my ear, announcing to me that this is the One.

And it should be for all of us.

But more than just some mystical experience is this concept of the Lamb being broken. Why do we break the bread at the Eucharist? Why do I, when I hold up that broken bread with the chalice, and say, “This is the Lamb. This is the One who takes away the sins of the world…”?

Yes, we do it to symbolize the broken body of the Lamb. The Lamb was broken. The Lamb was sacrificed. And it is importance to realize that.

But it symbolizes something even more practical. We break bread, so we can share it. We break this break and then break it and then break it again until it becomes small pieces that we must share with one another.

This Lamb that we know and recognize also is broken so we can share him with others. It is not enough that we simply recognize the Lamb. We must recognize the Lamb, broken for us, so that we can share the Lamb with others.

And that is the purpose of our lives as Christians. Yes, we gather here and are Christians. But we are also gathered here so we can go out and share this Lamb that has been revealed to us. And in sharing the Lamb, others too can share the Lamb.

So, listen to the voice of the Baptist proclaiming in our ears, “Behold the Lamb of God!” Hear that voice when I hold up the Bread and the Chalice. Hear that voice as we come forward to share that bread and drink from that chalice.

But hear that voice too when we leave here. Hear that voice proclaiming the Lamb of God as we share Christ with others, in all that we do as Christians, in the differences we make in this world around, in all the good we do and say in our lives.

When we do heed that voice, we will find ourselves, as we heard in the beautiful collect from this morning, “illuminated by [God’s] Word and Sacraments” and being illuminated, we will “shine with radiance of Christ’s glory, that he may be known, worshipped and obeyed to the ends of the earth.”

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