Passage 📖: John 1: 19-34

📺 Want to watch the full teaching on YouTube? Click here to view the January 3rd, 2025 Lesson.

🎧 Want to listen to the full teaching on Spotify? Click here to view the January 3rd, 2025 Lesson.

📢 KNGDOM Announcements:

👋 Introduction to Today’s Lesson

Most of us feel pressure to be more — more certain, more prepared, more convincing. We assume faith requires having the right words, the right answers, or the right credentials. But what if the Kingdom doesn’t move forward through certainty… What if it moves through honesty? Today’s passage confronts a quiet but powerful misunderstanding: that following Jesus means stepping into the spotlight. Instead, we meet someone who finds freedom by stepping out of it. Someone who refuses titles, releases control, and discovers that pointing to Jesus is more powerful than speaking for Him. Before miracles break out… Before crowds gather… Before anyone believes… A single voice says, “Look.”

Last week, we opened the Gospel of John and encountered Jesus not first as a baby, but as the eternal Word — present before creation, active in creation, and now entering it. We saw that the power and wisdom behind everything is not an idea or force, but a Person. Light entered the darkness, and the darkness could not overcome it. And to all who receive Him, Jesus offers a new identity — not by lineage or effort, but by grace: children of God. God did not stay distant. The Word became flesh and came close.

Missed the teaching? Click here to read or watch the full lesson.

And this is the testimony of John, when the Jews sent priests and Levites from Jerusalem to ask him, “Who are you?” He confessed, and did not deny, but confessed, “I am not the Christ.” And they asked him, “What then? Are you Elijah?” He said, “I am not.” “Are you the Prophet?” And he answered, “No.” So they said to him, “Who are you? We need to give an answer to those who sent us. What do you say about yourself?” He said, “I am the voice of one crying out in the wilderness, ‘Make straight the way of the Lord,’ as the prophet Isaiah said.” (Now they had been sent from the Pharisees.) They asked him, “Then why are you baptizing, if you are neither the Christ, nor Elijah, nor the Prophet?” John answered them, “I baptize with water, but among you stands one you do not know, even he who comes after me, the strap of whose sandal I am not worthy to untie.” These things took place in Bethany across the Jordan, where John was baptizing. The next day he saw Jesus coming toward him, and said, “Behold, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world! This is he of whom I said, ‘After me comes a man who ranks before me, because he was before me.’ I myself did not know him, but for this purpose I came baptizing with water, that he might be revealed to Israel.” And John bore witness: “I saw the Spirit descend from heaven like a dove, and it remained on him. I myself did not know him, but he who sent me to baptize with water said to me, ‘He on whom you see the Spirit descend and remain, this is he who baptizes with the Holy Spirit.’ And I have seen and have borne witness that this is the Son of God.

John 1:19–34 — “Behold the Lamb” 📍 Where Are We in the Story? After opening with eternity, creation, light, and incarnation, the Gospel now steps fully into history. John 1:1–18 tells us who Jesus is from God’s perspective. John 1:19–34 shows us how the world first encounters Him. The Word has become flesh. Now the flesh is standing in public. And the first response is not worship — it’s interrogation. 🏛️ The Setting: Expectation, Pressure, and Power Israel is living under Roman occupation. Messianic hope is high. Religious authority is fragile. For generations, God has been silent. Now crowds are gathering around a desert preacher named John the Baptist. John’s message is sharp: Repent.

Prepare.

The Kingdom is near.

People are asking the same question everyone is asking: “Is this the one?” That question reaches Jerusalem. So the religious leaders send a delegation — priests and Levites — not to learn, but to investigate. This is not a spiritual conversation. It is a political and theological audit.

John the Baptist: The Last Old Testament Prophet

John stands at a hinge point in history. He is: The final prophetic voice before Jesus

The bridge between promise and fulfillment

The last to prepare the way, not take the throne

When questioned, John is clear about one thing: He knows who he is not. “I am not the Christ.” “I am not Elijah.” “I am not the Prophet.” He refuses every title that could elevate him. Instead, he quotes Isaiah: “I am the voice of one crying out in the wilderness.” Not a message. Not a personality. A voice. John understands his role: He exists to point, not to possess. To prepare, not to perform. To witness, not to replace. Absolutely — this is a great instinct, and the historical context here raises the weight of the moment significantly. Below is a reworked Context & Background section that weaves in: how widely John’s ministry had spread

why Jerusalem leadership felt compelled to investigate

the distance and cost of the journey

and how that heightens the tension of presence vs recognition

This keeps your tone narrative, grounded, and pastoral — not academic, but historically serious.

Baptism, Authority, and a Journey Worth Investigating

By the time the leaders arrive to question John, his ministry is no longer local. Word has traveled — fast and far. Crowds are leaving the cities. People are crossing the Jordan. Religious assumptions are being unsettled. A prophet has emerged after four centuries of silence. And Jerusalem notices. So much so that priests and Levites are sent from Jerusalem to investigate (John 1:19). This is not curiosity. This is concern. Jerusalem is the center of religious authority. The Temple is there. The priesthood is there. Official theology flows from there. And now something is happening outside its control. To reach John, these leaders would have traveled roughly 20–25 miles from Jerusalem down to the Jordan wilderness. This is not a casual trip. It’s a full-day journey each way, through rough terrain, made only when something is considered serious enough to warrant scrutiny. In other words: John has become impossible to ignore. People are confessing sins. People are being baptized. People are preparing for God’s arrival. And none of it is happening under Temple supervision. That’s why the first question they ask is not about repentance or renewal — it’s about authority. “Who are you?” “Are you the Messiah?” “Are you Elijah?” “Are you the Prophet?” If John isn’t one of the expected figures, then by what right is he acting like one?

Why Baptism Was So Disruptive

Baptism itself was not new. But who it was for — and what it meant — absolutely was. In Jewish practice: Ritual washings were common

They were usually repeated

They were self-administered

And they were tied to Temple life

John’s baptism breaks every expectation: It is once, not repeated

It is administered, not self-performed

It is for Israel, not just Gentile converts

And it happens outside the Temple, in the wilderness

John is saying something radical: Everyone needs repentance. Everyone needs cleansing. Everyone needs to prepare. Even the religious. So when the leaders ask, “If you aren’t the Messiah… why are you baptizing?” they are really asking: Who gave you the authority to say this about us?

John’s Answer — and the Tension of the Passage

John does not defend himself. He does not argue credentials. He does not claim importance. He redirects. “I baptize with water. But among you stands One you do not know.” This is the heart of the tension: The leaders traveled miles to investigate a prophet — yet the One they truly need to see is already standing among them. God is present. But unrecognized. The light has entered the world. And the world is still asking the wrong questions. John’s role is not to draw attention to himself — but to expose a sobering reality: You can travel far. You can study deeply. You can hold authority. And still miss the presence of God standing right in front of you. That is what makes this moment so heavy. And so urgent.

“Behold, the Lamb of God”

The next day, everything shifts. John sees Jesus and does not introduce Him as: Teacher

King

Revolutionary

Miracle worker

He says: “Behold, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world.” This is loaded language. To Jewish ears, it echoes: Passover

Sacrifice

Substitution

Deliverance through blood

John is not pointing to power. He is pointing to a life that will be given. Before Jesus performs a miracle. Before He teaches a sermon. Before He gathers disciples. John defines Him by His sacrificial destiny. 🕊️ The Spirit and Divine Confirmation John then describes what validates his witness: The Spirit descending

Remaining on Jesus

God confirming the Son

This matters deeply. John is not offering speculation. He is offering testimony. He says plainly: “I have seen and have borne witness that this is the Son of God.” Christian faith does not begin with philosophy. It begins with witness. Someone saw. Someone testified. Someone pointed and stepped aside. 🔍 Why This Moment Matters This passage sets the tone for everything that follows in John’s Gospel. Here we see: How power responds to God (with suspicion)

How humility responds to God (with surrender)

How God introduces salvation (through sacrifice, not force)

Jesus is not announced by thunder. He is identified by a witness who says: “Look. There He is.” Before anyone follows Jesus, someone pointed to Him. And that is the role John the baptist models — the role every disciple will eventually be invited into.

John the Baptist is questioned by power, pressured by expectation, and surrounded by opportunity. And yet his clearest confession is not who he is — but who he is not. “I am not the Christ.” “I am not Elijah.” “I am not the Prophet.” John refuses every title that could inflate his importance. This matters because identity confusion always begins when we try to carry a role that was never ours. John understood: He was not the Savior

He was not the solution

He was not the center

He was a voice. And freedom comes when you stop trying to be what only Jesus can be. Many of us are exhausted not because we’re weak — but because we’re trying to be the answer for people, when actually we were only meant to point them towards God. You don’t have to be the Messiah in your family. You don’t have to be the fixer at work. You don’t have to be the savior in every situation. Your role, like John the Baptist is to be a faithful voice bearing witness to God, not to be a god in people’s lives.

John the Baptist says something quietly devastating: “Among you stands One you do not know.” Jesus is already there. Already present. Already active. But unrecognized. This is one of the most sobering truths in Scripture: God can be near — and still unnoticed. Not because He is hiding. But because expectations are misaligned. The leaders are looking for: Credentials, Control, Confirmation on their terms.

Meanwhile, the Son of God is standing in front of them. Sometimes the reason we don’t recognize God at work is not because He isn’t moving — but because He isn’t moving the way we expected. He may already be present in: the quiet obedience

the slow change

the unseen faithfulness

the ordinary moment

And the invitation is not to demand proof — but to pay attention.

John the Baptist does not spread belief through arguments, status, or education. He offers something far simpler — and far more powerful. Testimony. “I saw.” “I was told.” “I witnessed the Spirit remain.” “I testify that this is the Son of God.” That’s it. No theology degree. No polished sermon. No religious résumé. Just an honest account of an encounter. This is one of the most freeing truths told through the Gospel according to John: God does not advance His Kingdom through the most learned — but through the most transformed. Over and over in this Gospel, it is not the educated religious leaders who recognize Jesus. They know the Scriptures. They know the laws. They know the theology. And yet — they miss Him. Instead, it’s the ones who encounter Jesus who move the story forward. They don’t argue. They don’t explain everything. They simply say, “Come and see.” And this matters deeply for us today. Because so many people stay silent about Jesus not because they don’t love Him — but because they feel unqualified to talk about Him. They think: I don’t know enough.

I haven’t studied enough.

I’m too new to this.

I don’t want to say the wrong thing.

But here in this story, we are learning something radically different: You don’t need education to witness. You need encounter. You don’t need credentials. You need honesty. You don’t need polished language. You need a real story. All God requires of us is this: to experience the living Christ — and to share what we’ve seen. What He’s healed. What He’s forgiven. What He’s changed. What He’s still changing. That’s how faith spreads. Not through hype. Not through pressure. Not through perfection. But through ordinary people saying, “I can’t explain everything, but I can tell you what happened to me.” Our role is not to convince. It is not to impress. It is not to argue people into belief. Our role is simply this: to witness to what we’ve seen — and then step aside. And God does the rest.

This moment in John’s Gospel is quieter than we expect — but it changes everything. No throne. No miracle. No fire from heaven. Just a man in the wilderness pointing and saying, “Look. There He is.” John the Baptist does not build a following. He does not defend his authority. He does not step into the spotlight. He steps out of the way. And in doing so, he shows us something deeply freeing: The Kingdom of God does not move forward through people who try to be impressive — but through people who are willing to be honest. John knew who he was not. He refused to carry weight that did not belong to him. He understood that his calling was not to save, fix, or replace — but to witness. And that same invitation still stands for us. So many of us are tired because we’ve been trying to be what only Jesus can be. The answer. The healer. The rescuer. The one who holds it all together. But the Gospel reminds us: You were never meant to carry that role. You were meant to point. To say, with humility and courage, “I’ve seen something.” “I’ve encountered Someone.” “I can’t pretend it didn’t happen.” That is enough. God is not asking you to be eloquent. He’s not asking you to be certain about everything. He’s not asking you to convince anyone. He’s asking you to tell the truth about what you’ve seen — and then trust Him to do what only He can do. Because the Lamb of God still takes away the sin of the world. The Light is still present — even when unrecognized. And faith is still born the same way it always has been: Someone points. Someone looks. And God reveals Himself. So release what was never yours to carry. Step into the freedom of witness. And trust that when you point to Jesus — He will make Himself known. You don’t have to be the answer. You just have to step out of the way.

Blessings,

Michael

The world feels chaotic, but your news source doesn’t have to.

You can hide under a rock or spiral into the chaos… or you can subscribe to The Pour Over and get the news you need to know and the peace you crave.

Every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, The Pour Over sends quick news summaries that are actually fun to read. Plus, each newsletter includes short biblical reminders to help you stay focused on Christ and eternity. Instead of fueling outrage or anxiety, the news becomes another prompt to rest in God and respond in faith.

Over 1.5 million Christians have ditched the doomscroll and found a better way to stay informed––Christ-first, anger-free, and (even kinda) funny.

Try it for free and check out their welcome email that’ll make you glad you did!

Sign up for free today!