Love like a Lamb - The Power of Gentleness & Innocence
Isaiah 49:1-7; Psalm 40:1-11; 1 Corinthians 1:1-9; John 1:29-42
Some people, especially here in Northern Ireland have had the privilege of growing up close to farms. Others of us have not. And that makes a big difference when we hear a phrase like “the Lamb of God.”
For those of us who have never stood in a field full of newborn lambs, we may not quite feel what the Bible is pointing to. But anyone who has had this experience would know that lambs are astonishingly vulnerable and also astonishingly joyful. They are all legs and awkward leaps, skipping and kicking for no reason except that being alive feels good. They trust the world before they have any reason not to. They are gentle, open and unguarded.
Fortunately for those of us who have not grown up on farms with live sheep, one can catch a glimpse of this watching short video’s of lambs on the internet.
I watched a few lamb video’s on Youtube this week preparing for this sermon. It is seems that there is perhaps almost nothing more disarming than a little lamb at play.
And so when John the Baptist sees Jesus and says, “Behold, the Lamb of God,” I believe we should not assume that he only pointing to the sacrifice of Jesus on the cross, as most Christians theologians almost automatically assume. He is also pointing to a way of being in the world.
Yes, the lamb will later be associated with sacrifice, echoing imagery from the Old Testament, and that is an important part of the Christian story. But in Scripture and more specifically as it relates to Jesus, sacrifice is not ultimately about violence; it is about self-giving love. And before the lamb is ever to be regarded as some kind of ancient sacrificial victim, it is first a creature of innocence, joy, and trust.
And so when the writer of John’s Gospel has John the Baptist declare “Behold the Lamb of God” is it perhaps that he is saying: “This is what God looks like when God comes near”? Not armoured. Not weaponised. Not dominating. But gentle, open, vulnerable, innocent and full of life.
And John goes on: “Behold, here is the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world.”
But notice that the word is not the sins, plural, as if it were only about individual moral failures that he is talking about, but rather “the sin of the world”, suggesting that the Lamb comes to take away the collective sin of the world, to heal the collective brokeness of humanity (which clearly includes individual sin, but is also something much bigger..
The word ‘sin’ in Biblical Greek means to miss the mark. It is descriptive of someone who is aiming to hit a target (say with a bow and arrow) and the arrow misses the target, or falls short. And so sin describes our collective human tendency to miss the target… to miss the point of life. To fall short. And what are we falling short from? The Way of Divine Love. And so when John speaks of the lamb who takes away the sin of the world, he is talking about all the collective ways in which humanity falls short of Divine Love. He is speaking of the deep, tangled web of fear, violence, domination, and separation that distorts human life. And we see it regularly playing out not only in individual lives around us, but almost every day displayed in some way on the news on the TV.
And how does the Lamb take it away?
Not by overpowering it. Not by crushing enemies. But by exposing it. Violence is unmasked by gentleness. Hatred is undone by love. Fear is healed by trust.
The Lamb takes away the sin of the world by refusing to participate in it, and by drawing humanity into a new way of being. This is exactly what Isaiah saw when he spoke of the servant of God:
“I will give you as a light to the nations, that my salvation may reach to the ends of the earth.” (49:6) God’s servant does not save by conquest. God saves by light – shining the splendour of God’s light.
And this becomes breathtakingly clear in the Book of Revelation. In the great vision of heaven, the throne of the universe is not occupied by a warrior, a general, or an emperor. It is occupied by a Lamb. The writer of Revelation is suggesting that most powerful force in the cosmos is not domination or violence, as the early Christians were experiencing under Roman rule. The most powerful force in the cosmos is vulnerable love. As we read in the little Chinese book of wisdom, Tao Te Ching (the Way and it’s Power): Verse 43 “The gentlest thing in the world overcomes the hardest thing in the world.”
The Lamb reigns, not by killing, but by being faithful. Not by coercion, but by self-giving. This is how God conquers the world: by conquering hearts and minds. Not through fear. But through and inspiring love that is so strong, pure, gentle and so true that it draws everything back to itself.
But we must not imagine that this means insipid weakness. In Revelation while Jesus is referred to as the Lamb who sits on the throne, he is also in other places referred to as a Lion. But the strength of the Lion is lived in service of the Lamb on the throne otherwise it simply becomes unbridled power lived out under the motto ‘might is right’ - as we are seeing displayed on the world stage right now. For Jesus, might is not right. His strength and courage are in service of the inner Lamb who gives himself to the world in gentleness, innocence and joy.
But when the first disciples hear John call Jesus the Lamb of God, they do not receive a theological lecture. They receive an invitation. Jesus turns and says,
“What are you looking for?”
They reply, “Where are you staying?”
And he says, “Come and see.”
That is how the Lamb leads. Not by force. Not by command. But by invitation.
To follow the Lamb is not just to believe something about Jesus. It is to step into his way of being in the world to become people of the Lamb shaped by gentleness, joy, humility, and as the story unfolds, courageous love.
Isaiah puts it this way: “The Lord called me before I was born… He made me a light.”
To follow the Lamb is to become light in the world — not by shining harshly, but by quietly illuminating the world with kindness, mercy, and truth.
So what does it mean for us to follow the Lamb? It means choosing tenderness in a brutal world. It means choosing the courageous and vulnerable path of healing, reconciliation and forgiveness in a vengeful culture. It means choosing joy in a fearful age.
It means daring to live unarmoured. In a world that says, ‘Above all else protect yourself’ the Lamb says, ‘Give yourself’. In a world that says, Win at all costs, the Lamb says, Love with costly love. In a world that says, ‘Be strong and don’t give anything away’, the Lamb says, ‘Be faithful and open’.
And the story of Jesus tells us strangely, and wonderfully this is how is how the God heals the world.
But John does not say, ‘Understand the Lamb.’ He says, ‘Behold the Lamb.’ Look. Pay attention.
Let your heart be moved.
This is what God is like. This is what love looks like. This is the power that holds the universe.
And this is the way we are called to walk: Not as conquerors, but as companions of the Lamb --
bearing joy, gentleness, and light into a wounded world.
In closing, a few questions: Jesus says to the disciples:
“What are you looking for?” And that is perhaps a question directed to each of us today. What is it that you are looking for in life. What is the deepest desire of your heart? What are you looking for? The disciples reply… Where are you staying? They see something in Jesus that has drawn them to him. They want to know what it is that Jesus life is grounded in, rooted in. What is at the centre of his being that makes him so different? Where are you staying? They ask?
Jesus replies… ‘Come and See’.
Where are we staying? What forms the centre of our lives. What are we grounded in or rooted in? What would it mean to hear the invitation of Jesus in the passage: Come and see?
Come and see, the Lamb, who takes away the sin of the world. The one who invites the whole world to begin again, with a clean, fresh slate.
And that is essentially the journey of the Christian life… come and see.
Isaiah 49:1-7; Psalm 40:1-11; 1 Corinthians 1:1-9; John 1:29-42
Some people, especially here in Northern Ireland have had the privilege of growing up close to farms. Others of us have not. And that makes a big difference when we hear a phrase like “the Lamb of God.”
For those of us who have never stood in a field full of newborn lambs, we may not quite feel what the Bible is pointing to. But anyone who has had this experience would know that lambs are astonishingly vulnerable and also astonishingly joyful. They are all legs and awkward leaps, skipping and kicking for no reason except that being alive feels good. They trust the world before they have any reason not to. They are gentle, open and unguarded.
Fortunately for those of us who have not grown up on farms with live sheep, one can catch a glimpse of this watching short video’s of lambs on the internet.
I watched a few lamb video’s on Youtube this week preparing for this sermon. It is seems that there is perhaps almost nothing more disarming than a little lamb at play.
And so when John the Baptist sees Jesus and says, “Behold, the Lamb of God,” I believe we should not assume that he only pointing to the sacrifice of Jesus on the cross, as most Christians theologians almost automatically assume. He is also pointing to a way of being in the world.
Yes, the lamb will later be associated with sacrifice, echoing imagery from the Old Testament, and that is an important part of the Christian story. But in Scripture and more specifically as it relates to Jesus, sacrifice is not ultimately about violence; it is about self-giving love. And before the lamb is ever to be regarded as some kind of ancient sacrificial victim, it is first a creature of innocence, joy, and trust.
And so when the writer of John’s Gospel has John the Baptist declare “Behold the Lamb of God” is it perhaps that he is saying: “This is what God looks like when God comes near”? Not armoured. Not weaponised. Not dominating. But gentle, open, vulnerable, innocent and full of life.
And John goes on: “Behold, here is the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world.”
But notice that the word is not the sins, plural, as if it were only about individual moral failures that he is talking about, but rather “the sin of the world”, suggesting that the Lamb comes to take away the collective sin of the world, to heal the collective brokeness of humanity (which clearly includes individual sin, but is also something much bigger..
The word ‘sin’ in Biblical Greek means to miss the mark. It is descriptive of someone who is aiming to hit a target (say with a bow and arrow) and the arrow misses the target, or falls short. And so sin describes our collective human tendency to miss the target… to miss the point of life. To fall short. And what are we falling short from? The Way of Divine Love. And so when John speaks of the lamb who takes away the sin of the world, he is talking about all the collective ways in which humanity falls short of Divine Love. He is speaking of the deep, tangled web of fear, violence, domination, and separation that distorts human life. And we see it regularly playing out not only in individual lives around us, but almost every day displayed in some way on the news on the TV.
And how does the Lamb take it away?
Not by overpowering it. Not by crushing enemies. But by exposing it. Violence is unmasked by gentleness. Hatred is undone by love. Fear is healed by trust.
The Lamb takes away the sin of the world by refusing to participate in it, and by drawing humanity into a new way of being. This is exactly what Isaiah saw when he spoke of the servant of God:
“I will give you as a light to the nations, that my salvation may reach to the ends of the earth.” (49:6) God’s servant does not save by conquest. God saves by light – shining the splendour of God’s light.
And this becomes breathtakingly clear in the Book of Revelation. In the great vision of heaven, the throne of the universe is not occupied by a warrior, a general, or an emperor. It is occupied by a Lamb. The writer of Revelation is suggesting that most powerful force in the cosmos is not domination or violence, as the early Christians were experiencing under Roman rule. The most powerful force in the cosmos is vulnerable love. As we read in the little Chinese book of wisdom, Tao Te Ching (the Way and it’s Power): Verse 43 “The gentlest thing in the world overcomes the hardest thing in the world.”
The Lamb reigns, not by killing, but by being faithful. Not by coercion, but by self-giving. This is how God conquers the world: by conquering hearts and minds. Not through fear. But through and inspiring love that is so strong, pure, gentle and so true that it draws everything back to itself.
But we must not imagine that this means insipid weakness. In Revelation while Jesus is referred to as the Lamb who sits on the throne, he is also in other places referred to as a Lion. But the strength of the Lion is lived in service of the Lamb on the throne otherwise it simply becomes unbridled power lived out under the motto ‘might is right’ - as we are seeing displayed on the world stage right now. For Jesus, might is not right. His strength and courage are in service of the inner Lamb who gives himself to the world in gentleness, innocence and joy.
But when the first disciples hear John call Jesus the Lamb of God, they do not receive a theological lecture. They receive an invitation. Jesus turns and says,
“What are you looking for?”
They reply, “Where are you staying?”
And he says, “Come and see.”
That is how the Lamb leads. Not by force. Not by command. But by invitation.
To follow the Lamb is not just to believe something about Jesus. It is to step into his way of being in the world to become people of the Lamb shaped by gentleness, joy, humility, and as the story unfolds, courageous love.
Isaiah puts it this way: “The Lord called me before I was born… He made me a light.”
To follow the Lamb is to become light in the world — not by shining harshly, but by quietly illuminating the world with kindness, mercy, and truth.
So what does it mean for us to follow the Lamb? It means choosing tenderness in a brutal world. It means choosing the courageous and vulnerable path of healing, reconciliation and forgiveness in a vengeful culture. It means choosing joy in a fearful age.
It means daring to live unarmoured. In a world that says, ‘Above all else protect yourself’ the Lamb says, ‘Give yourself’. In a world that says, Win at all costs, the Lamb says, Love with costly love. In a world that says, ‘Be strong and don’t give anything away’, the Lamb says, ‘Be faithful and open’.
And the story of Jesus tells us strangely, and wonderfully this is how is how the God heals the world.
But John does not say, ‘Understand the Lamb.’ He says, ‘Behold the Lamb.’ Look. Pay attention.
Let your heart be moved.
This is what God is like. This is what love looks like. This is the power that holds the universe.
And this is the way we are called to walk: Not as conquerors, but as companions of the Lamb --
bearing joy, gentleness, and light into a wounded world.
In closing, a few questions: Jesus says to the disciples:
“What are you looking for?” And that is perhaps a question directed to each of us today. What is it that you are looking for in life. What is the deepest desire of your heart? What are you looking for? The disciples reply… Where are you staying? They see something in Jesus that has drawn them to him. They want to know what it is that Jesus life is grounded in, rooted in. What is at the centre of his being that makes him so different? Where are you staying? They ask?
Jesus replies… ‘Come and See’.
Where are we staying? What forms the centre of our lives. What are we grounded in or rooted in? What would it mean to hear the invitation of Jesus in the passage: Come and see?
Come and see, the Lamb, who takes away the sin of the world. The one who invites the whole world to begin again, with a clean, fresh slate.
And that is essentially the journey of the Christian life… come and see.
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