As we move toward that pivotal day of Good Friday, we are conscious of the fact that Jesus from the beginning was to act as a sacrificial lamb for the sins of the whole world. That has always been one of the central truths of the Christian faith. John 1:29-30 tells us of John the Baptist’s first encounter with Jesus. Immediately he said of Jesus: “Look, the lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world! This is the one I meant when I said, ‘A man who comes after me has surpassed me because he was before me.”
The use of a lamb for a sacrifice goes back as far as Abel in Genesis 4. It is used from the time of Moses as an integral part of the Israelite sacrificial system. The Suffering Servant passage in Isaiah 53 has these lines in verse 7 to indicate the kind of sacrifice Jesus would offer: He was oppressed and afflicted, yet he did not open his mouth; he was led like a lamb to the slaughter, and as a sheep before its shearers is silent, so he did not open his mouth.
For the Christian, the life of surrender begins with an image of total surrender. Unless we depend on the sacrifice of Christ for our salvation, we have nothing to surrender. We have no life to give. Far from distancing himself from the Old Testament sacrificial system and the need of atonement, Jesus emphasized that he had come to fulfill all that these sacrifices had been pointing to all along. “For even the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many” (Mark 10:45).
Flemish painter Jan van Eyck painted his Adoration of the Lamb in 1432. It can be viewed today in the Cathedral of St. Bavon in Ghent, Belgium. For those of us not traveling to Belgium in the near future, it can be viewed online. It is a landscape, with cities and forests on the horizon and people groups in the foreground. Women and men, rich and poor, working class and scholars encircle an altar. The altar is in the centre of the painting. There is a cross to one side and a column on the other side, symbolizing redemption and creation. Standing on the altar is a lamb, appearing healthy and strong, looking straight into our eyes. There is a hole in the chest of the lamb, and a stream of blood pours out, filling a chalice that stands on the altar.
Van Eyck’s painting captures the biblical meaning of God’s great gift of salvation. The Saviour of the world is symbolically pictured as the Lamb that was slain, now standing in the centre, encircled by angels and surrounded by people from every tribe and nation and language (Rev. 5:6,9). A fitting caption would be “Worthy is the Lamb, who was slain, to receive power and wealth and wisdom and strength and honour and glory and praise!” (Rev. 5:12). It makes us want to stand and sing:
Crown Him with many crowns, the Lamb upon His throne;
Hark, how the heavenly anthem drowns all music but its own!
Awake, my soul and sing of Him who died for thee,
And hail Him as thy matchless King through all eternity.
The victory of the Lamb that was slain and the scene of universal adoration described in Revelation are powerful pictures of the consummation of God’s work of salvation. But it also demonstrates the humility of God, that He would use the imagery of the lamb to illustrate the extent of His love. The willed passivity we see in Isaiah 53:7 of the Lord of glory, Creator of all and ruler of the cosmos, assuming humility and submissiveness like a lamb is diametrically different from the way the world thinks today. His plans always seem to be that way.
On behalf of the staff at First Baptist Church and my family, I want to wish you all a wonderful Holy Week and Easter season. May we all ponder what Christ has done for us and contemplate how we might draw closer to Him.
FOR THOSE WHO LIKE TO READ
I am amazed at how few funerals I have performed since coming to Kingston. I would regularly do at least a dozen a year during my last pastorate. In fact, I did three in my first 10 days in Oxford. So far, by the grace of God, I have only done one in almost three years since I have been here. Believe me, I am not complaining. However, invariably most of us have lost loved ones whom we mourn. Bereavement is a very difficult time. There are a number of books on bereavement which I have read that have richly blessed me. C. S. Lewis’ A Grief Observedwas written after the death of his wife, Joy Davidman nearly fifty years ago. It is a wonderful book. But other books have also been a powerful testimony.
Martin Marty, a preeminent American church historian of Lutheran background who taught for years at the University of Chicago wrote a book shortly after his first wife, Elsa, also died of cancer. It is entitled A Cry of Absence: Reflections for the Winter of the Heart. San Francisco: Harper, 1983; revised edition 1993; Grand Rapids, Mich.: Wm. B. Eerdmans, 1997.
This is a book written as a reflection, based on Psalms, about the spiritual life in a time of death, alienation, separation, or distance. In her last months, they would get up at midnight for her last medication of the day. As they waited for the medication to settle, they would read a psalm. One night, he planned to skip over Psalm 88 but she challenged him to read it. Granted a sabbatical for a quarter afterwards, he reflected on the psalms again and wrote this book which has been reprinted again and again and has blessed thousands of people.
Mark Buchanan’s Things Unseen: Living in the Light of Forever. Portland: Multnomah Press, 2002 is another fine book written after his father died. Mark pastors one of our Baptist congregations on Vancouver Island in the community of Duncan.
Finally, I would draw you attention to a writer who has become one of my favourites since I first heard of him nearly two years ago. Gerald (Jerry) Sittser has taught theology at Whitworth College in Spokane, Washington since 1989. Jerry Sittser grew up in Grand Rapids, Mich. He attended Hope College and Fuller Theological Seminary, where he earned an M.Div. degree. He served as an associate pastor at Emmanuel Reformed Church, in Paramount, Calif.,, for four years, then as chaplain at Northwestern College, in Orange City, Iowa, for six years before returning to school, this time at the University of Chicago, to earn his Ph.D. in the history of Christianity under Martin E. Marty, mentioned above. His book, When God Doesn ’t Answer Your Prayer won several awards. At Whitworth, he has been voted by senior students as the college's Most Influential Professor on seven occasions, and he has won both the junior- and senior-faculty teaching awards, decided by colleagues. A Grace Disguised: How the Soul Grows Through Loss (Zondervan) is a best-seller that has been translated into a dozen languages. Both of these books were written after a family tragedy. Sittser, his wife, four children, and his mother went out to a reservation one day for a class project of one of their children. On the way back, their vehicle was struck by another driven by a drunk driver. In the accident, his wife, one daughter, and his mother all died. Other family members were badly injured. This is a wonderful account of how he coped with that loss. When God Doesn’t Answer Your Prayer is written after reflecting that he had prayed for safety the morning prior to the accident. Both are exceptional books.
One book I haven’t yet read is Nicholas Wolterstorff’s Lament for a Son. Wolterstorff is the Noah Porter Professor Emeritus of Philosophical Theology at Yale Divinity School. It is highly recommended. This book was written after his son was killed in a climbing accident.