A wee boy in the church was watching the priest, who had raised his arm and shown the congregation a white circular thing held in his hand. When the priest said: “This is the Lamb of God” the boy spontaneously thought that that thing wasn’t a lamb and didn’t even resemble it by any stretch of the imagination. Several decades later, the same boy – though not a boy anymore – will do the same thing here as that priest in the distant past, in about fifteen minutes’ time. This is one of the very few memories from my childhood that I can still remember, and rather vividly. Some pious people might call the wee boy “silly”, but I’d risk saying that the incident reflects a challenge faced by many churchgoers, including regular ones. I certainly don’t mean this in a negative, accusatory way. Having attended Mass regularly for years we are familiar with its rhythm and structure, but its meaning might pass us by. There are two reasons for that, and they are not necessarily separate. The first one is that because we are used to Mass, we skim the surface in autopilot mode. Secondly, we might not grasp the meaning of symbols used in the liturgy. We will respond to the proclamation “this is the Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world” because our autopilot has been engaged since the start of Mass. But what does it really mean?
We heard that phrase in today’s gospel, uttered by John the Baptist while pointing at Jesus. Had John and Jesus spoken the Polish language, the Polish equivalent of the word ‘lamb’ would have been considered a serious insult as it means ‘fool’ or ‘idiot’. Thankfully, John’s use of the phrase was deeply rooted in Jewish lore, history and religion rather than Polish culture. That’s why his pronouncement immediately drew his audience’s attention; they viscerally grasped the meaning and importance of such a proclamation. No wonder the early Church, consisting mainly of Jewish converts, kept using this phrase in their worship as it encapsulated the core of their faith. Does it hold the same importance for us, two millennia later? To make sure it does, let’s refresh our memory and understanding.
There are three stepping stones in the Jewish lore and religion that we have to recall. The first is the story of the patriarch Abraham and his prolonged longing for a son. It eventually happened in his old age and, as is quite often the case with an only child, Isaac became the centre of Abraham’s universe. Then Abraham was called to offer Isaac as a sacrifice to God. On the way to the top of the mountain where the sacrifice was to take place, Isaac, unaware of his fate, asked his father about a sacrificial animal that was missing: “The fire and the wood are here, but where is the lamb for a burnt offering?” In a prophetic way, Abraham said: “God himself will provide the lamb for a burnt offering, my son.” (Genesis 22:7-8) Having bound and laid Isaac on the altar Abraham was stopped at the last moment: “Do not lay your hand on the boy or do anything to him; for now I know that you fear God, since you have not withheld your son, your only son, from me.” (Genesis 22:12). Abraham found a ram caught by its horns in the thicket and offered the animal in place of his son. That story introduced the idea of a substitute sacrifice, a sacrifice made on behalf of or instead of someone else. That leads to the second stepping stone in the Jewish lore, which was the Passover in Egypt.
The enslaved people of Israel were to be liberated and led out of Egypt and to the promised land by Moses, against the will of the Pharaoh, who was unwilling to let them go. To achieve this, Moses pronounced a series of ten disasters (known as the Plagues of Egypt) badly affecting the country. The final one was the death of the firstborn sons. On the designated night, “about midnight I will go out through Egypt. Every firstborn in the land of Egypt shall die, from the firstborn of Pharaoh who sits on his throne to the firstborn of the female slave who is behind the handmill, and all the firstborn of the livestock.” (Exodus 11:4) However, the Israelites were commanded to sacrifice a lamb per household and mark the door frame outside with its blood, and to stay inside overnight: “For the Lord will pass through to strike down the Egyptians; when he sees the blood on the lintel and on the two doorposts, the Lord will pass over that door and will not allow the destroyer to enter your houses to strike you down.” (Exodus 12:23) In other words, the blood of the sacrificial lamb literally was to save people’s lives. The Passover has always been the celebration of salvation with the sacrificial lamb as its central entity.
The third stepping stone was the Jewish Day of Atonement, Yom Kippur. Two goats played a key part in the proceedings in the Temple in Jerusalem. The archpriest “shall cast lots on the two goats, one lot for the Lord and the other lot for Azazel. [He] shall present the goat on which the lot fell for the Lord and offer it as a sin offering.” (Leviticus 16:8-9) To cut a long story short, the blood of that sacrificial lamb was taken inside the holiest chamber of the Temple to “make atonement for the sanctuary, because of the uncleanness of the people of Israel, and because of their transgressions, all their sins.” (Leviticus 16:16) Then the archpriest “shall lay both his hands on the head of the live goat and confess over it all the iniquities of the people of Israel, and all their transgressions, all their sins, putting them on the head of the goat, and sending it away into the wilderness by means of someone designated for the task.” (Leviticus 16:21) The term for this animal? A scapegoat.
Those three stepping stones played in the minds of John the Baptist’s audience when he proclaimed “there is the lamb of God that takes away the sin of the world” and pointed at Jesus. They must have been intrigued too; not certain what John meant by those words. They would become clear after Jesus made the ultimate sacrifice on the cross. He was the substitute sacrifice, just like the lamb offered instead of Isaac. Jesus’ blood saved lives, just as in Egypt during the first Passover. He was the dual sacrificial lamb of the Atonement Day, a scapegoat driven out of Jerusalem and crucified outside the city walls, carrying the sins of the people. When He died on the cross, “at that moment the curtain of the temple was torn in two, from top to bottom” (Matthew 27:51), a symbol of Him, the sacrificial lamb, entering the holiest chamber. Later, the author of the Letter to the Hebrews explained: “it is impossible for the blood of bulls and goats to take away sins. Consequently, […] it is by God’s will that we have been sanctified through the offering of the body of Jesus Christ once for all. […] Therefore, my friends, […] we have confidence to enter the sanctuary by the blood of Jesus, by the new and living way that he opened for us through the curtain, that is, through his flesh” (10:4.10.19-20)
“This is the Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world” is the proclamation of Jesus’ redeeming presence in the sacramental form – the Word became flesh. It’s presented to each one of us not as a reward for good behaviour over the week but as a way of restoring your spiritual wholeness, your dignity as the child of God, and of strengthening you for all the challenges ahead: “Lord, I am not worthy to receive you. But only say the word and my soul shall be healed.”
