Tag Archives: Sheep

Sacred Signs of Subversion, Part 8: The Lamb

Read John 1:29-42

ALSO IN SCRIPTURE
“Worthy is the Lamb who was slaughtered—to receive power and riches and wisdom and strength and honor and glory and blessing.” (Revelation 5:12 NLT)

Symbols carry memory and meaning far beyond words. The Church has always leaned on them—sometimes hidden in plain sight, sometimes dismissed or distorted. Yet the most powerful symbols are those that subvert the world’s expectations and draw us back to the radical heart of the Gospel. In this series, we’ll look closer at the sacred signs that shock, unsettle, and ultimately call us deeper into Christ.

A bloodied lamb stands on stone, slain yet upright, with seven horns and seven eyes. The grotesque image echoes Revelation’s vision of Christ—the Lamb who was slain yet reigns in power.
Image: AI-generated by DALL-E and customized by the author. Used with the devotional “The Lamb” at Life-Giving Water Devotions.

Part 8: The Lamb. Today, “sheep” is an insult. We’re told not to be sheep but to be lions, wolves, or at least sheepdogs. I have military in my family and friends who are vets, including one who fought in the Battle of Fallujah. If you remember that battle, you know it was a hellstorm. As such, in military culture, citizens are often seen as the sheep—naïve, soft, and in need of protection from predators. The sheepdogs are the ones with the grit to face the wolves.

But Scripture flips that whole logic. God doesn’t identify with the wolf, or the sheepdog, or even the lion. God identifies with the lamb. And not just any lamb, but the lamb who was slain.

In the ancient world, lambs were synonymous with weakness, vulnerability, and sacrifice. They were common temple offerings, easy prey, and symbols of innocence. At Passover, lambs were slaughtered so Israel could remember God’s deliverance from Egypt. To call someone a lamb was not a compliment. Yet when John the Baptist sees Jesus, he doesn’t hail him as a lion, a king, or a warrior. He cries out, “Behold, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world!”

And the shock doesn’t stop there. In Revelation, when the scroll of history cannot be opened, the elder tells John to look for the Lion of Judah. But when John turns, he does not see a lion. He sees a lamb, standing as if slain. The universe is ruled not by claws and teeth, but by wounds. Power is redefined in the blood of the Lamb.

The same brilliance runs through the Gospel of John. The author shifts the timeline of Holy Week so that Jesus is crucified not after Passover, but on the very day the lambs are being slaughtered in the temple. To the historian, that looks like a contradiction with the other gospels. But to the theologian, it is perfect symmetry. The author wants us to see that Christ’s sacrifice is not accidental or delayed. He is the Passover Lamb, slain as the lambs are slain, once for all. Not historically tidy—ah, but theologically, brilliant.

That’s why the lamb is such a scandalous symbol. In Rome, strength meant domination. The empire exalted the eagle, the lion, the wolf. Christians exalted the lamb. To Roman ears, it sounded ridiculous. Paul even said so: “The message of the cross is foolish to those who are headed for destruction. But we who are being saved know it is the very power of God” (1 Corinthians 1:18). Who worships a lamb—much less one crucified as a traitor? But that was the point: what the world despised, God exalted. What the empire crushed, God enthroned. To my politically motivated friends, heed this message: God and empire don’t mix.

We’ve tamed the lamb into Easter pageants and Sunday School décor. We imagine fluffy sheep, safe pastures, and gentle bedtime prayers. But in Scripture, the lamb is not cute. The lamb is slaughtered. In Revelation, John sees a lamb “looking as if it had been slain” (Rev. 5:6). It still bears the marks of violence—throat slit, blood spilled—yet it is standing. This lamb has seven horns and seven eyes, imagery meant to startle: ultimate power and ultimate vision embodied in what looks powerless and mutilated. The lamb is grotesque, unsettling, hard to look at—and that is the point. God’s power comes clothed in weakness, God’s victory comes through wounds, and the world’s violence is absorbed, not returned.

And that still cuts against the grain today. We live in a culture that worships strength. Leaders win votes by promising to be lions. Nations stockpile weapons to prove they’re not sheep. Even the church sometimes admires the “sheepdog” more than the lamb. Yet Christ calls us not to despise sheep but to be one and to follow the Lamb. To trust that true power is not in the one who can kill, but in the one who is willing to be killed and still rise.

The question for us is whether we dare to embody the way of the lamb. Do we choose mercy over vengeance? Do we entrust ourselves to vulnerability rather than domination? Do we follow the slaughtered lamb who reigns from the throne—or the wolves and lions who claw for it?

The lamb is not weakness. The lamb is God’s power redefined.

THOUGHT OF THE DAY
The world crowns lions. Heaven crowns the lamb.

PRAYER
Lamb of God, you took away the sin of the world not by clawing for power but by laying your life down in love. Teach us to follow your way. Give us courage to choose mercy over violence, to trust vulnerability over control, and to live as people marked by your sacrifice. Amen.


Devotion written by Rev. Todd R. Lattig with the assistance of ChatGPT (OpenAI).

Jesus is the GOAT

By Rev. Todd R. Lattig

Read Leviticus 16:20-22; Hebrews 9:11-14

ALSO IN SCRIPTURE
“The Lord laid on him the sins of us all.” (Isaiah 53:6b NLT)

Image: AI-generated using Adobe Firefly and customized by the author. Used with the devotional “Jesus Is the GOAT” at Life-Giving Water Messages.

Everyone today wants to be the GOAT—the Greatest of All Time. It’s a title reserved for icons, legends, and game-changers. In the world of faith, it’s hard to argue that anyone but Jesus holds that place. But there’s an irony here. Before “GOAT” meant greatness, it meant shame. Before it was a cultural crown, it was a spiritual burden.

On the Day of Atonement in ancient Israel, two goats were chosen. One was sacrificed; the other was spared—but only to become the scapegoat. The high priest would place his hands on its head and confess the sins of the people over it, transferring their guilt symbolically onto the animal. Then that goat was led into the wilderness, cast out, separated, removed from the community. It carried the weight of everything the people couldn’t bear to face.

That goat hadn’t done anything wrong. It was simply convenient.

When Jesus went to the cross, he wasn’t punished for his own failure. He became the scapegoat—absorbing the fear, blame, and rejection of an entire world. The religious leaders declared him dangerous. The political powers found him disposable. The crowd went along with it. And just like the goat driven into the wild, Jesus was led outside the city… left to die for sins he didn’t commit.

But unlike the scapegoat, Jesus didn’t vanish. He rose.

And when he did, he broke the entire system. Jesus is the GOAT not because he replaced the scapegoat, but because he exposed the whole scapegoating system for what it is—and showed us a better way. He revealed that God’s way isn’t about blame—it’s about mercy. He took the worst we could offer—fear, violence, shame—and returned only love.

And that should make us pause.

Because in every generation, we find new scapegoats. Every time we cast someone out to feel safe or righteous, we echo the crowd at the cross. Every time we protect our comfort at the expense of compassion, we walk the path of the high priest, hands pressing down on a head that didn’t earn what we’re unloading.

So if we’re still casting people out—still scapegoating the vulnerable, the queer, the different, the disruptive—we’ve missed the whole point. Jesus didn’t come to affirm our cycles of fear. He came to expose them. He didn’t just carry our sin—he unmasked the systems we use to excuse it.

And when we exile others to preserve our comfort, we reenact the very violence the cross was meant to dismantle.

And yet, even then, Jesus meets us—not with condemnation, but with mercy. The wilderness he entered wasn’t just for him. It was for all of us who’ve been pushed to the edges, and all of us who’ve done the pushing. He took that exile and turned it into a meeting place. A mercy seat. A threshold of transformation.

From that wilderness, he still calls—not to find another goat, but to become a people who stop blaming… and start belonging.

THOUGHT OF THE DAY
Jesus didn’t scapegoat anyone. He became the scapegoat to end the cycle of blame.

PRAYER
Jesus, you are the Greatest of All Time—not because you crushed your enemies, but because you carried our shame. Forgive us when we look for scapegoats instead of grace. Teach us your way of mercy. Make us a people who stop blaming and start belonging. Amen.


Devotion written by Rev. Todd R. Lattig with the assistance of ChatGPT (OpenAI).

Leave the Goat Alone, You Baaaa’d Sheep!

By Rev. Todd R. Lattig

Read Matthew 25:31–46

ALSO IN SCRIPTURE
“You can enter God’s Kingdom only through the narrow gate… the highway to hell is broad, and its gate is wide for the many who choose that way.” (Matthew 7:13 NLT)

Every year my family and I attend the official NJ State Fair, which is also the Sussex County Farm and Horse Show. One of our many favorite things to do there is to see all of the livestock—the precious animals that sadly don’t realize they’re a sacrifice for human bellies (sorry, I’m vegetarian #Iloveanimalswonteatthem 😅). I especially love to visit the lively, goading goats!

Which brings me to today’s musical inspiration: Highway to Hell by AC/DC. That song has been demonized (pun intended) by fearful church folk for decades—but if you actually listen to it, it’s not promoting hell. It’s exposing a broken system. A life where one is “going down” not because they’re evil, but because they refuse to play by the hypocritical rules of a culture that calls itself holy… but crucifies its own.

Which brings us to Jesus’ parable of the sheep and the goats.

For far too long, Christians have misunderstood this teaching. We’ve been taught that the “goats” are outsiders, heretics, even demonic figures. Some even link them to Satan or Baphomet—images never mentioned by Jesus. But that’s fear talking. That’s projection, not theology.

Look closely at the parable.

Jesus isn’t talking about two different religions. He’s not separating the faithful from the unbelievers. He’s dividing people who all claim to follow him. The sheep and the goats are part of the same flock. The difference isn’t belief. It’s behavior. The sheep fed the hungry, welcomed the stranger, clothed the naked, and visited the imprisoned. The goats? They didn’t. That’s it. They still call him Lord. But they refused to live like he mattered.

The goats weren’t Satanists.

They were the baaaa’d sheep.

And here’s the irony: for centuries, those same bad sheep have taken the image of the goat and made it into a scapegoat. They’ve projected all their fears and shame onto people they didn’t understand—queer folks, mystics, artists, outsiders, truth-tellers—and called them the goats. Then they’ve shunned them, shamed them, flayed them with theology, and yes… even burned them at the stake.

All in the name of Jesus.

But if we’re listening to the Shepherd, we’d know: the real danger isn’t the goat at the edge of the field. It’s the sheep who stopped following and started judging. The sheep who shout “Lord, Lord!” but never feed the hungry. Never clothe the poor. Never welcome the stranger. The sheep who think faith is a fence instead of a way. To those, the Shepherd will say, “I never knew you. Get away from me, you who break God’s laws.” (Matthew 7:23 NLT)

So… who’s the real goat?

The one with the horns?

Or the one too proud to kneel at the feet of the least of these?

Maybe it’s time we leave the goat alone… and ask what kind of sheep we really are.

THOUGHT OF THE DAY
The goats weren’t outsiders. They were insiders who ignored the Shepherd. Don’t be a baaaa’d sheep.

PRAYER
Jesus, our Shepherd, teach us to stop scapegoating and start following. Help us to love the people we’ve wrongly labeled and feared. Remind us that judgment begins not with the world, but with us—with how we feed, welcome, clothe, and care. May we be your sheep not in name, but in how we live. Amen.


Devotion written by Rev. Todd R. Lattig with the assistance of ChatGPT (OpenAI).

A LOOK BACK: 99

Writing the Life-Giving Water devotionals is not only an important ministry, but is a deeply rewarding spiritual discipline for me as well. With that said, observing Sabbath (aka rest) is an important spiritual discipline as well. So here is a LOOK BACK to a devotion I wrote in the past. Read it, reflect on it, be challenged by it. Who knows how God will speak to you through it and how it will bear relevance in your life today? May the Holy Spirit guide you as you read the suggested Scripture and subsequent devotion.