Jesus in the Middle
Commentary
The medieval proverb declared that “all roads lead to Rome.” For a thousand years or so, Rome was the political and military center of the Mediterranean world and Europe. The empire was also the architect of an advanced and excellent network of roads — so much so that miles of those ancient roads survive to this day. It is easy to imagine, therefore, a model in which Rome was the great hub of a network of highways — much like Chicago was to trains in an earlier generation. Whatever road one was on, one might expect to see a sign indicating how many miles to Rome.
So, take that image of Rome at the center of a network of roads — or Chicago at the center of a web of trains — and change the picture just this much: put Jesus in the middle. All roads lead to Rome. And all things point to Christ.
The season of Epiphany recalls and celebrates how Jesus was made manifest to the world. The tradition focuses initially on the visit of the Magi, but the truth we celebrate of course is larger than just that episode, that moment. And we see that his manifestation is anticipated, foreshadowed, promised, and proclaimed all through scripture.
We might also suggest the image of a bicycle wheel. We recognize how the spokes attach all around the circumference of the wheel. But those spokes are not randomly attached from here to there. Rather, they all meet in the middle. That attachment from the center to every point around the perimeter is what gives the wheel its integrity and its strength.
Likewise, the Apostle Paul says that all things hold together in Christ (Colossians 1:17). That suggests something quite different from the take-him-or-leave-him secularism of our day. It may be a rude awakening to a negligent world when it discovers in the end that Jesus is at the center of it all. He is not tangential, but central. He is not optional, but essential.
As we contemplate the readings assigned to this second Sunday of Epiphany, let us observe and celebrate how all things point to Christ.
Isaiah 49:1-7
How many hermeneutical layers do we need to dig through with our people this week? How shall we answer the question of which Isaiah authored this passage? Or the question of what that prophet thought he was talking about? Or the additional question of whether the Lord had something in mind beyond what the prophet understood in his own time?
These are the sorts of issues that are appropriate for a seminary class, but they are usually not very helpful to a worship setting. Our responsibility as preachers of the word, therefore, is not to burden our worshiping congregations with these kinds of questions, as important as they are. Rather, it becomes our responsibility to have thought through those kinds of questions for ourselves, and then to preach from that thinking and studying a message that does right by both the original text and the current, living audience.
For myself, I think my best course of action is to preach this text in broad strokes. Lest I lead my people down rabbit holes that are unhelpful or make statements that are irresponsible in terms of scholarship, let me affirm broad truths.
What we can say with certainty is that, in this passage, the Lord is articulating a calling and vision for some individual or entity that will function as his special servant. From that, we can observe some truths about the function and purpose of that servant. And, from that, we can affirm some truths about the will of God. And that, even without venturing on to hermeneutical thin ice, will get us to the gospel!
So, what do we know about this servant?
We see first that the servant’s calling is prenatal. That may sound a little silly at first, yet it is theologically significant. In most human affairs, the opportunities a person is given or the roles they play are the result of unfolding events and individual performance. But the Lord’s plan for this servant is more like a divine destiny than ordinary human accomplishment.
Second, we observe the weapons imagery: sword, arrow, quiver. These suggest battle and victory. And they anticipate the language of ultimate and universal reign (“kings will see and arise, princes will also bow down”) with which the passage concludes.
Third, we note that there is not for this servant a path of uniform success. Instead, there are the reflective statements made by the servant himself: “I have labored in vain, I have spent my strength for nothing and futility.” And, later, that servant seems to be identified as “the despised one” and “the one abhorred by the nation.”
Finally, we see that the will of God to be accomplished through this servant is not best expressed as conquest but rather as restoration. One might think that a person or nation that is “despised” and “abhorred” would find vindication in defeating all those around. But this servant’s purpose is characterized as “to bring Jacob back to him, so that Israel might be gathered to him,” “To raise up the tribes of Jacob and to restore the protected ones of Israel,” and to be “a light of the nations so that My salvation may reach to the end of the earth.”
The Lord’s purpose for this servant reveals significant things about the Lord’s will. It is not reactive or capricious but is from the beginning. It is global in scope — inclusive rather than exclusive. And the emphasis is on restoration rather than destruction, redemption rather than judgment.
And from these broad-stroke observations, we have painted a picture of the gospel. The calling and purpose of the servant combined with the revealed will of God are sufficient to prompt us to rejoice in his goodness. And, taken in the larger context of this week’s selected passage, we are prompted to rejoice in Christ.
1 Corinthians 1:1-9
When we receive personal letters in the mail — if we do still receive personal communication that way! — we generally don't spend much time examining the return address and mailing address on the envelope. We digest that information at a glance, in just half of a moment, and then we open the letter to focus on what's inside. In our assigned epistle passage this week, however, we are essentially invited to examine the return address.
Admittedly, that is overstating the case and under-selling these initial verses of 1 Corinthians. Nevertheless, the opening letters of an ancient epistle included some formulaic material. This is where Paul identifies the sender and the recipient. But how he does it proves to be full of meaning.
Paul begins by identifying himself. Interestingly, his self-introduction is not who he is in relation to his audience/recipients, but who he is under God. He is “an apostle of Jesus Christ.” This is, as we would discover later in the letter (12:28), the highest office in the church. Yet it was not a high office to which Paul aspired, but rather one to which he was “called.” And, reinforcing that point, he testifies that he is what he is “by the will of God.” This should not be read as an arrogant statement; quite the contrary, it is an affirmation of divine grace.
Likewise, when Paul identifies his recipients, it is not in reference to himself but in reference to the Lord. They are “the church of God which is in Corinth.” He will later lament the divisions and sects within the Corinthian church, as they pledge their allegiance to different human leaders. But from the start, Paul makes sure that they know that their church does not belong to Paul, Apollos, or Cephas, but is “the church of God.”
As for the Corinthians themselves, they are “those who have been sanctified in Christ Jesus, saints by calling, with all who in every place call on the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, their Lord and ours.” Their entire identity, you see, is tied to Christ. That should be an obvious truth about ourselves inasmuch as we call ourselves “Christians,” but Paul’s emphatic language in vs. 2 helps to reinforce a truth that may be forgotten in our day.
It was customary for ancient letters to include a “thanksgiving section,” and that is what we find next, making up the major portion of our assigned lection. The apostle says that he gives thanks for the Corinthians. But, specifically, his cause for thanksgiving is, by implication, also theirs: for he is not merely thankful for them, but thankful for the work of God in their lives. It is a work of his grace, and Paul articulates it as comprehensive: “in everything,” “all speech and all knowledge,” and “not lacking in any gift.” Ours is not a God of a halfway measure. No, for this is the God who makes the psalmist’s cup run over (Psalm 23:5), who over-provides by twelve basketsful for the hungry multitude (Matthew 14:20), who is able to accomplish more than we can ask or imagine (Ephesians 3:20), and who gives in “good measure, pressed down, shaken together, running over” (Luke 6:38 ESV). It is with good cause that Paul is thankful for God’s work in the Corinthians’ lives, just as we likewise should rejoice in his exceedingly generous work in ours.
God’s work in their lives is not yet complete, of course. It is continuing. And Paul affirms that the Lord will bring it to completion, making them “blameless on the day of our Lord Jesus Christ.” And then he concludes with a reference to their having been called by God into fellowship with his son, echoing the original statement that Paul had been called by God into apostleship for his son.
John 1:29-42
John’s Gospel characteristically fits a lot of content into small packages. Accordingly, these 14 verses from the first chapter of that gospel feature too much material for us to do justice to all of it. We shall have to select some portion or theme on which to focus. In this space, then, we shall endeavor to offer a summary menu of opportunities available to the preacher. And in the larger treatment, we will contemplate how we might include this text with the other two assigned lections for this week.
The starting place for the episode is John the Baptist. While not identical to what we read in the synoptics, the basic flow is the same. John is already a public figure, and he becomes a sort of catalyst for the transition to Jesus’ public ministry. And so, twice in this passage, John directs others’ attention to Jesus when he is nearby. And even when Jesus is not present, John bears witness to him.
Twice John refers to Jesus as “the Lamb of God.” And in the first of those instances, he makes clear just what it is about a “lamb” that Jesus resembles: “the Lamb of God that takes away the sin of the world.” Jesus is associated with the role of a sacrificial lamb, whose blood makes for cleansing and atonement. We’ll give more detailed attention to this remarkable claim below.
Then John makes yet another remarkable statement about Jesus. He says that Jesus is superior to him “because he existed before me.” This, too, was an unprecedented sort of affirmation. The people of Israel were accustomed to stories of great men and women of God whom the Lord had chosen for his use — Abraham, Moses, Deborah, Elijah, and such. In the case of Jeremiah, there is even a claim to a divine call that preceded Jeremiah’s existence. But John is saying something far more astonishing about Jesus: not that he was specially called by God; not even that he was called before he existed; but that he existed before. The preexistence of Christ is a key component of orthodox Christology, and it is important to emphasize from our pulpits. Jesus was not just chosen or used: he came; he was sent.
Next, John describes the occasion of Jesus’ baptism. The episode is familiar from the other three gospels, though it is not presented as part of the narrative of John’s Gospel in the same way that it is in Matthew, Mark, and Luke. The theme of “witnesses” and “testimony” is prominent in John’s Gospel. And here we see that, before John bore witness to Jesus in the hearing of others, the Spirit bore witness to Jesus in the sight and experience of John.
Finally, the passage ends with two of John’s disciples following after Jesus, which eventually leads to Peter being introduced to Jesus. We see, then, this pattern of how people come to Christ: these two disciples are directed toward him by John, and Peter is in turn directed to him by Andrew. And this is our experience as well, of course. We do not come to him on our own: we have been referred to him, if you will, by others. Parents, pastors, Sunday School teachers, youth leaders, writers, musicians, campus ministers, neighbors, co-workers, and on and on — so many folks who are instrumental in bringing us to him.
Application
As we noted above, the selected Old Testament passage for this week is not explicitly about Jesus. It can’t be, for it was written seven centuries before his birth in Bethlehem. Yet we made a series of cautious, undeniable observations about the servant being described in that passage. And when all is said and done, those observations certainly seem to paint a portrait of Christ.
Different people will have different viewpoints when it comes to identifying fulfillment of Old Testament prophecies. Some folks are quick to leap to fulfillment: they see it wherever they look. Others are much more skeptical and are unwilling to be persuaded. Our endeavor is not to fall into either trap. But we recognize and affirm that the attitude of the New Testament writers — plus Jesus himself — is that many Old Testament passages point to Christ. Indeed, one might even make the case that the Old Testament as a whole is a marker that points in his direction.
The Gospel lection, meanwhile, presents a different sort of marker: an individual human being. If Isaiah and the rest of the Old Testament directed people’s attention to Jesus, it was at a considerable distance. John the Baptist, by contrast, did the same thing close up. Jesus was right there in their midst, and John repeatedly pointed to him -- directed people’s attention to him -- explaining who and what he was.
As we noted earlier, the Gospel of John makes a rather big theme of witnesses and the testimony of witnesses. This, after all, was how the truth of a matter was established in a court of law. The judge and jury did not see for themselves what happened, and so they rely upon someone who did. So, too, with character witnesses in our day: the judge and jury do not know personally the individual in question, and so they must rely upon someone who does.
The Gospel of John in general -- and John the Baptist in particular -- act as witnesses. They knew Jesus. They saw the things that happened. And they testify concerning him so that both the ancient crowd that day at the Jordan and the folks in our pews this Sunday -- along with anyone and everyone in between -- might know the truth about Jesus.
And when Paul wrote to the church in Corinth, he too made significant reference to testimony. Speaking of the Corinthian Christians themselves, Paul wrote, “The testimony concerning Christ was confirmed in you.” This, of course, takes “testimony” to a whole different level. In the instance of a court case, after all, the judge and jury simply believe or do not believe the testimony of the witnesses, and that determines the outcome of the case for the one on trial. The jurors themselves, however, go back to their lives mostly unaffected.
In the case of the Corinthian Christians, however, the situation is profoundly different. They believed the testimony about Jesus, and it impacted them. The testimony was confirmed in them. In other words, what happens in a person’s life and experience as a result of their faith in Christ is confirmation of the truth of what they have believed.
Jesus stands at the center. The law and the prophets pointed forward to him. The angels announced his coming and will herald his return. John the Baptist and the apostles bore witness to him. And all of creation is held together by him. And we, those who have believed the testimony concerning Jesus, have the truth of the matter beautifully confirmed in our own life and experience.
Alternative Application(s)
John 1:29-42 -- Behold the Lamb
The imagery of sheep and shepherds was familiar to the people around John the Baptist that day. Some of them no doubt had sheep of their own. Many of them likely saw sheep on a daily basis. And the use of sheep and shepherds as metaphor was part of their scripture.
But what John said was something new. John pointed to a human being, and called him a lamb. And a very particular sort of lamb.
The people of that time and place were accustomed to thinking of themselves as sheep and as a flock. That was a part of their understanding of their relationship with God. It served as a metaphor for the goodness of God’s care, as well as for their own vulnerability and neediness, plus their occasional waywardness. This was the conventional understanding and use of sheep imagery in the Old Testament. But John’s application of the image to a human being carried a different layer of meaning.
One wonders if John had Isaiah in mind. In Isaiah 53, we are introduced to an interesting juxtaposition of conventional and unconventional sheep imagery. On the one hand, referring to the people as a whole, Isaiah wrote, All we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned—every one—to his own way” (Isaiah 53:6a ESV). Then, immediately following that language of human waywardness, Isaiah introduces the notion of a single human being personally and individually burdened with that collective waywardness: “and the Lord has laid on him the iniquity of us all” (Isaiah 53:6b ESV). And that, in turn, is followed by a return to imagery of a sheep: “He was oppressed, and he was afflicted, yet he opened not his mouth; like a lamb that is led to the slaughter, and like a sheep that before its shearers is silent, so he opened not his mouth” (Isaiah 53:7 ESV).
Taken together, this is an unconventional use of the otherwise familiar sheep imagery. This is not about being part of God’s flock and being under his care. Rather, this is about being slaughtered, silent and submissive, and that on behalf of others.
It is unknown to us what the level of biblical literacy was for the people of John’s day. We know that there was an historic emphasis on instruction in the home (e.g., Deuteronomy 6:7-9), as well as personal meditation on God’s word (e.g., Deuteronomy 6:6, Psalm 1:3). But it is impossible for us to determine to what extent the people in John’s audience were acquainted with Isaiah 53. If they were, perhaps John’s declaration resonated with them.
“Substitutionary atonement” is not an expression found in the text of scripture. It is certainly implied in the imagery of scripture, however. Isaiah lays the groundwork for it. And John the Baptist picks it up and uses it to point to Jesus.
So, take that image of Rome at the center of a network of roads — or Chicago at the center of a web of trains — and change the picture just this much: put Jesus in the middle. All roads lead to Rome. And all things point to Christ.
The season of Epiphany recalls and celebrates how Jesus was made manifest to the world. The tradition focuses initially on the visit of the Magi, but the truth we celebrate of course is larger than just that episode, that moment. And we see that his manifestation is anticipated, foreshadowed, promised, and proclaimed all through scripture.
We might also suggest the image of a bicycle wheel. We recognize how the spokes attach all around the circumference of the wheel. But those spokes are not randomly attached from here to there. Rather, they all meet in the middle. That attachment from the center to every point around the perimeter is what gives the wheel its integrity and its strength.
Likewise, the Apostle Paul says that all things hold together in Christ (Colossians 1:17). That suggests something quite different from the take-him-or-leave-him secularism of our day. It may be a rude awakening to a negligent world when it discovers in the end that Jesus is at the center of it all. He is not tangential, but central. He is not optional, but essential.
As we contemplate the readings assigned to this second Sunday of Epiphany, let us observe and celebrate how all things point to Christ.
Isaiah 49:1-7
How many hermeneutical layers do we need to dig through with our people this week? How shall we answer the question of which Isaiah authored this passage? Or the question of what that prophet thought he was talking about? Or the additional question of whether the Lord had something in mind beyond what the prophet understood in his own time?
These are the sorts of issues that are appropriate for a seminary class, but they are usually not very helpful to a worship setting. Our responsibility as preachers of the word, therefore, is not to burden our worshiping congregations with these kinds of questions, as important as they are. Rather, it becomes our responsibility to have thought through those kinds of questions for ourselves, and then to preach from that thinking and studying a message that does right by both the original text and the current, living audience.
For myself, I think my best course of action is to preach this text in broad strokes. Lest I lead my people down rabbit holes that are unhelpful or make statements that are irresponsible in terms of scholarship, let me affirm broad truths.
What we can say with certainty is that, in this passage, the Lord is articulating a calling and vision for some individual or entity that will function as his special servant. From that, we can observe some truths about the function and purpose of that servant. And, from that, we can affirm some truths about the will of God. And that, even without venturing on to hermeneutical thin ice, will get us to the gospel!
So, what do we know about this servant?
We see first that the servant’s calling is prenatal. That may sound a little silly at first, yet it is theologically significant. In most human affairs, the opportunities a person is given or the roles they play are the result of unfolding events and individual performance. But the Lord’s plan for this servant is more like a divine destiny than ordinary human accomplishment.
Second, we observe the weapons imagery: sword, arrow, quiver. These suggest battle and victory. And they anticipate the language of ultimate and universal reign (“kings will see and arise, princes will also bow down”) with which the passage concludes.
Third, we note that there is not for this servant a path of uniform success. Instead, there are the reflective statements made by the servant himself: “I have labored in vain, I have spent my strength for nothing and futility.” And, later, that servant seems to be identified as “the despised one” and “the one abhorred by the nation.”
Finally, we see that the will of God to be accomplished through this servant is not best expressed as conquest but rather as restoration. One might think that a person or nation that is “despised” and “abhorred” would find vindication in defeating all those around. But this servant’s purpose is characterized as “to bring Jacob back to him, so that Israel might be gathered to him,” “To raise up the tribes of Jacob and to restore the protected ones of Israel,” and to be “a light of the nations so that My salvation may reach to the end of the earth.”
The Lord’s purpose for this servant reveals significant things about the Lord’s will. It is not reactive or capricious but is from the beginning. It is global in scope — inclusive rather than exclusive. And the emphasis is on restoration rather than destruction, redemption rather than judgment.
And from these broad-stroke observations, we have painted a picture of the gospel. The calling and purpose of the servant combined with the revealed will of God are sufficient to prompt us to rejoice in his goodness. And, taken in the larger context of this week’s selected passage, we are prompted to rejoice in Christ.
1 Corinthians 1:1-9
When we receive personal letters in the mail — if we do still receive personal communication that way! — we generally don't spend much time examining the return address and mailing address on the envelope. We digest that information at a glance, in just half of a moment, and then we open the letter to focus on what's inside. In our assigned epistle passage this week, however, we are essentially invited to examine the return address.
Admittedly, that is overstating the case and under-selling these initial verses of 1 Corinthians. Nevertheless, the opening letters of an ancient epistle included some formulaic material. This is where Paul identifies the sender and the recipient. But how he does it proves to be full of meaning.
Paul begins by identifying himself. Interestingly, his self-introduction is not who he is in relation to his audience/recipients, but who he is under God. He is “an apostle of Jesus Christ.” This is, as we would discover later in the letter (12:28), the highest office in the church. Yet it was not a high office to which Paul aspired, but rather one to which he was “called.” And, reinforcing that point, he testifies that he is what he is “by the will of God.” This should not be read as an arrogant statement; quite the contrary, it is an affirmation of divine grace.
Likewise, when Paul identifies his recipients, it is not in reference to himself but in reference to the Lord. They are “the church of God which is in Corinth.” He will later lament the divisions and sects within the Corinthian church, as they pledge their allegiance to different human leaders. But from the start, Paul makes sure that they know that their church does not belong to Paul, Apollos, or Cephas, but is “the church of God.”
As for the Corinthians themselves, they are “those who have been sanctified in Christ Jesus, saints by calling, with all who in every place call on the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, their Lord and ours.” Their entire identity, you see, is tied to Christ. That should be an obvious truth about ourselves inasmuch as we call ourselves “Christians,” but Paul’s emphatic language in vs. 2 helps to reinforce a truth that may be forgotten in our day.
It was customary for ancient letters to include a “thanksgiving section,” and that is what we find next, making up the major portion of our assigned lection. The apostle says that he gives thanks for the Corinthians. But, specifically, his cause for thanksgiving is, by implication, also theirs: for he is not merely thankful for them, but thankful for the work of God in their lives. It is a work of his grace, and Paul articulates it as comprehensive: “in everything,” “all speech and all knowledge,” and “not lacking in any gift.” Ours is not a God of a halfway measure. No, for this is the God who makes the psalmist’s cup run over (Psalm 23:5), who over-provides by twelve basketsful for the hungry multitude (Matthew 14:20), who is able to accomplish more than we can ask or imagine (Ephesians 3:20), and who gives in “good measure, pressed down, shaken together, running over” (Luke 6:38 ESV). It is with good cause that Paul is thankful for God’s work in the Corinthians’ lives, just as we likewise should rejoice in his exceedingly generous work in ours.
God’s work in their lives is not yet complete, of course. It is continuing. And Paul affirms that the Lord will bring it to completion, making them “blameless on the day of our Lord Jesus Christ.” And then he concludes with a reference to their having been called by God into fellowship with his son, echoing the original statement that Paul had been called by God into apostleship for his son.
John 1:29-42
John’s Gospel characteristically fits a lot of content into small packages. Accordingly, these 14 verses from the first chapter of that gospel feature too much material for us to do justice to all of it. We shall have to select some portion or theme on which to focus. In this space, then, we shall endeavor to offer a summary menu of opportunities available to the preacher. And in the larger treatment, we will contemplate how we might include this text with the other two assigned lections for this week.
The starting place for the episode is John the Baptist. While not identical to what we read in the synoptics, the basic flow is the same. John is already a public figure, and he becomes a sort of catalyst for the transition to Jesus’ public ministry. And so, twice in this passage, John directs others’ attention to Jesus when he is nearby. And even when Jesus is not present, John bears witness to him.
Twice John refers to Jesus as “the Lamb of God.” And in the first of those instances, he makes clear just what it is about a “lamb” that Jesus resembles: “the Lamb of God that takes away the sin of the world.” Jesus is associated with the role of a sacrificial lamb, whose blood makes for cleansing and atonement. We’ll give more detailed attention to this remarkable claim below.
Then John makes yet another remarkable statement about Jesus. He says that Jesus is superior to him “because he existed before me.” This, too, was an unprecedented sort of affirmation. The people of Israel were accustomed to stories of great men and women of God whom the Lord had chosen for his use — Abraham, Moses, Deborah, Elijah, and such. In the case of Jeremiah, there is even a claim to a divine call that preceded Jeremiah’s existence. But John is saying something far more astonishing about Jesus: not that he was specially called by God; not even that he was called before he existed; but that he existed before. The preexistence of Christ is a key component of orthodox Christology, and it is important to emphasize from our pulpits. Jesus was not just chosen or used: he came; he was sent.
Next, John describes the occasion of Jesus’ baptism. The episode is familiar from the other three gospels, though it is not presented as part of the narrative of John’s Gospel in the same way that it is in Matthew, Mark, and Luke. The theme of “witnesses” and “testimony” is prominent in John’s Gospel. And here we see that, before John bore witness to Jesus in the hearing of others, the Spirit bore witness to Jesus in the sight and experience of John.
Finally, the passage ends with two of John’s disciples following after Jesus, which eventually leads to Peter being introduced to Jesus. We see, then, this pattern of how people come to Christ: these two disciples are directed toward him by John, and Peter is in turn directed to him by Andrew. And this is our experience as well, of course. We do not come to him on our own: we have been referred to him, if you will, by others. Parents, pastors, Sunday School teachers, youth leaders, writers, musicians, campus ministers, neighbors, co-workers, and on and on — so many folks who are instrumental in bringing us to him.
Application
As we noted above, the selected Old Testament passage for this week is not explicitly about Jesus. It can’t be, for it was written seven centuries before his birth in Bethlehem. Yet we made a series of cautious, undeniable observations about the servant being described in that passage. And when all is said and done, those observations certainly seem to paint a portrait of Christ.
Different people will have different viewpoints when it comes to identifying fulfillment of Old Testament prophecies. Some folks are quick to leap to fulfillment: they see it wherever they look. Others are much more skeptical and are unwilling to be persuaded. Our endeavor is not to fall into either trap. But we recognize and affirm that the attitude of the New Testament writers — plus Jesus himself — is that many Old Testament passages point to Christ. Indeed, one might even make the case that the Old Testament as a whole is a marker that points in his direction.
The Gospel lection, meanwhile, presents a different sort of marker: an individual human being. If Isaiah and the rest of the Old Testament directed people’s attention to Jesus, it was at a considerable distance. John the Baptist, by contrast, did the same thing close up. Jesus was right there in their midst, and John repeatedly pointed to him -- directed people’s attention to him -- explaining who and what he was.
As we noted earlier, the Gospel of John makes a rather big theme of witnesses and the testimony of witnesses. This, after all, was how the truth of a matter was established in a court of law. The judge and jury did not see for themselves what happened, and so they rely upon someone who did. So, too, with character witnesses in our day: the judge and jury do not know personally the individual in question, and so they must rely upon someone who does.
The Gospel of John in general -- and John the Baptist in particular -- act as witnesses. They knew Jesus. They saw the things that happened. And they testify concerning him so that both the ancient crowd that day at the Jordan and the folks in our pews this Sunday -- along with anyone and everyone in between -- might know the truth about Jesus.
And when Paul wrote to the church in Corinth, he too made significant reference to testimony. Speaking of the Corinthian Christians themselves, Paul wrote, “The testimony concerning Christ was confirmed in you.” This, of course, takes “testimony” to a whole different level. In the instance of a court case, after all, the judge and jury simply believe or do not believe the testimony of the witnesses, and that determines the outcome of the case for the one on trial. The jurors themselves, however, go back to their lives mostly unaffected.
In the case of the Corinthian Christians, however, the situation is profoundly different. They believed the testimony about Jesus, and it impacted them. The testimony was confirmed in them. In other words, what happens in a person’s life and experience as a result of their faith in Christ is confirmation of the truth of what they have believed.
Jesus stands at the center. The law and the prophets pointed forward to him. The angels announced his coming and will herald his return. John the Baptist and the apostles bore witness to him. And all of creation is held together by him. And we, those who have believed the testimony concerning Jesus, have the truth of the matter beautifully confirmed in our own life and experience.
Alternative Application(s)
John 1:29-42 -- Behold the Lamb
The imagery of sheep and shepherds was familiar to the people around John the Baptist that day. Some of them no doubt had sheep of their own. Many of them likely saw sheep on a daily basis. And the use of sheep and shepherds as metaphor was part of their scripture.
But what John said was something new. John pointed to a human being, and called him a lamb. And a very particular sort of lamb.
The people of that time and place were accustomed to thinking of themselves as sheep and as a flock. That was a part of their understanding of their relationship with God. It served as a metaphor for the goodness of God’s care, as well as for their own vulnerability and neediness, plus their occasional waywardness. This was the conventional understanding and use of sheep imagery in the Old Testament. But John’s application of the image to a human being carried a different layer of meaning.
One wonders if John had Isaiah in mind. In Isaiah 53, we are introduced to an interesting juxtaposition of conventional and unconventional sheep imagery. On the one hand, referring to the people as a whole, Isaiah wrote, All we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned—every one—to his own way” (Isaiah 53:6a ESV). Then, immediately following that language of human waywardness, Isaiah introduces the notion of a single human being personally and individually burdened with that collective waywardness: “and the Lord has laid on him the iniquity of us all” (Isaiah 53:6b ESV). And that, in turn, is followed by a return to imagery of a sheep: “He was oppressed, and he was afflicted, yet he opened not his mouth; like a lamb that is led to the slaughter, and like a sheep that before its shearers is silent, so he opened not his mouth” (Isaiah 53:7 ESV).
Taken together, this is an unconventional use of the otherwise familiar sheep imagery. This is not about being part of God’s flock and being under his care. Rather, this is about being slaughtered, silent and submissive, and that on behalf of others.
It is unknown to us what the level of biblical literacy was for the people of John’s day. We know that there was an historic emphasis on instruction in the home (e.g., Deuteronomy 6:7-9), as well as personal meditation on God’s word (e.g., Deuteronomy 6:6, Psalm 1:3). But it is impossible for us to determine to what extent the people in John’s audience were acquainted with Isaiah 53. If they were, perhaps John’s declaration resonated with them.
“Substitutionary atonement” is not an expression found in the text of scripture. It is certainly implied in the imagery of scripture, however. Isaiah lays the groundwork for it. And John the Baptist picks it up and uses it to point to Jesus.
