We know that Gabrielson’s sermon topic was “The Paschal Lamb,” and it was all about the Lord Jesus, whose sacrificial death delivered us from the slavery of sin, just as the sacrificial death of the passover lamb delivered Israel from the slavery of Egypt. There is no verse in the New Testament which points more dramatically to Jesus as our “paschal lamb” than John 1:29, and that is why our text this morning may also have been the text of that long-ago sermon which was Salem’s original mission statement.

Picture your ancestors around a red-hot, pot-bellied stove that Sabbath morning, January 14, 1883. They were strong, hard-working, and serious-minded pioneers who lived in dug-outs and sod-houses—homes which they had made from the earth turned with their horse-drawn plows. They knew all about poverty and privation—drought, cholera, grasshoppers, dust storms, blizzards, failed crops, empty bellies, sudden death, and shattered dreams.

But they were also men and women of heroic Christian faith who had been drawn together by those roving evangelists whose preaching had gripped this community. Their congregation had grown so rapidly that only a few months before, the conference had appointed the Rev. Carl Charnquist as their first full-time pastor; and now their dreams for a new Methodist church had been fully realized.

We join them now around that roaring stove. Outside it is bitter cold; the prairies are glistening with snow; and the schoolhouse windows are cloaked in ice. Singing already has begun, and we open Andelt’s old Swedish hymnbook to join in its soaring verses. Then we kneel on the unvarnished boards, as Pastor Charnquist pours out fervent petitions for the new congregation and its community. At last, we listen as Brother Gabrielson points to the very heart of the gospel—Jesus Christ, “The Paschal Lamb,” crucified for our salvation.

“Behold the Lamb of God which taketh away the sin of the world!” Here is the essential focus of all Christian preaching which for 20 centuries has echoed around the world. It was John the Baptist who first declared it on the banks of Jordan at the beginning of Jesus’ ministry. “Here He is at last!” cries John. “Behold Him now—the Lamb of God! Look at Him attentively, reverently, and confidently. He is your sin-bearer, your deliverer, your hope!” For to be saved is to look upon Jesus in faith and welcome; and to be lost is to look away from Him in disobedience and neglect. How gladly your great-grandparents beheld Him that winter morning! How gladly they beheld Him through all the years of their living and at last in the moment of their dying! How gladly we behold Him this morning!

Behold the Lamb! Yes, this was the central message which marked this church’s origin; and it was also the central message which marked Methodist origins everywhere. But that central message did not stand alone, for it was supported by four subordinate themes. If we are to understand the dimensions of early Methodist witness, we must briefly consider each of these.

First, all need to be saved!

Early Methodism was very optimistic about God’s grace, but it was very pessimistic about human nature. But so also is the Bible. “We know…the whole world lieth in wickedness,” declares I John 5:19; and Romans 3:23 is just as emphatic: “For all have sinned and come short of the glory of God.”

Sin is our basic problem, basic to all the rest. Sin’s guilt brings condemnation for our rebellion against God’s law. Sin’s power brings slavery to that ugly self-centeredness which has corrupted our nature. Sin’s penalty brings death in all its horrid fullness—physical, spiritual, and eternal. Our condition is hopeless, except for Jesus who came to rescue us. “The wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord” (Romans 6:23).

This gift is offered to us freely, but we must freely accept it. Our conscience and our will, however, are hardened by sinful nature and sinful practice; and that is why Methodist preachers were so fervent and persistent. We must turn deliberately from sin, which is our disease, they declared, before we ever can receive grace, which is God’s cure.

Second, all can be saved!

But If the disease is desperate, the cure is perfect. “For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth on Him should not perish, but have everlasting life.” This “whosoever” of John 3:16 is the welcome promise of the gospel, and it was also the welcome promise of early Methodism. Since Christ’s death is for all, His salvation is for all; and if we will respond as He invites, He will receive us, forgive us, and transform us. This is Christian conversion, which is not our decision to live a better live, but a dramatic new birth by the Holy Spirit.

Olaf Gustaf Hedstrom, the founder of Swedish Methodism in America, had experienced such a conversion. A young sailor stranded in New York City in the late 1820’s, he was deeply moved by Methodist preaching on sin the disease and grace the cure. He fully gave his life to Christ; and then, as an historian informs us, “an old ship was purchased and fitted for a church and named ‘The Bethel Ship.’ In this floating temple Hedstrom preached for 22 years, and thousands were converted to God.” Under his leadership and that of his two brothers, “Methodist churches among the Swedish people did soon spring into existence in Knox, Henry, and Mercer Counties, Illinois; and from there the missionary work has extended through Iowa to Nebraska and further west.”

Before you is the beautiful oak communion rail installed in this building when it was erected in 1898. As in all Methodist churches of that era, it was called the “altar,” and it was here that spiritually-needy men and women knelt to begin new life in Christ. Only God knows how many have been converted in the 104 years since this rail became Salem’s altar; but it remains before you, open as it always has been, to “whosoever” will believe on Jesus.

Third, all can know they are saved!

For those who trust in His dear Son, God replaces the guilt of sin with the joy of acceptance. “The Spirit Himself beareth witness with our spirit that we are the children of God (Rom. 8:16). All evangelical Christians believe this, but early Methodists put particular stress on knowing that we are saved. You have sung these familiar words: “Blessed assurance, Jesus is Mine;/ O what a foretaste of glory divine.” Remember that they were penned by Fanny Crosby, a blind little Methodist lady who suffered greatly but rejoiced continually in the assurance of salvation.

Many of you are descendants of A.P. and Inga Falk, two of the founders of this church. In his memoirs, Pastor Charnquist remembered their inner spiritual strength. “Brother Falk and I traveled about in Phelps, Kearney, and Harlan Counties, calling on practically all the settlers, singing and praying with them and witnessing about our Lord and Christ,” he wrote. Inga, too, was “a genuine Christian; and though sixty years had placed its imprint on her brow, she was still youthful in spirit…her wholesome Christian character, together with that of her husband, proved to be a fine example and influence Godwards.”

A.P. and Inga Falk knew that they were saved through Jesus Christ. It was God’s promise of acceptance, written in His Word and confirmed by His Spirit, which sustained them and the other founders of this church in their worst adversities. In poverty, sickness, and even death, they knew they belonged to Jesus, and Jesus belonged to them; and that was what strengthened them to bear the unbearable.

Fourth, all can be saved to the uttermost!

Jesus is “able to save to the uttermost those who come to God by him,” as Hebrews 7:25 declares; and your Methodist forebears put great stress on “uttermost salvation.” For Christianity, as they insisted, is not a failing effort in self-improvement, but Christ’s power enabling us to live Christlike, victorious lives. Jesus forgives our sins, but that is not all, for He also breaks its power. It is not only what He does for us, but also what He does in us that makes us fully Christian.

What He does in us is to make us holy. In the Bible, holiness means separated, consecrated, purified; and these terms speak of an inward spiritual condition in which both our outward acts and our inward motives are brought into absolute submission to God’s will and into beautiful harmony with God’s character. This was what your Methodist ancestors meant by “holiness of heart and life,” and they lifted this lofty banner everywhere. For they were convinced that God calls us all to be committed, “altogether Christians,” not faltering, half-hearted ones.

To “altogether Christians,” God’s love pulsates through every act and every purpose. For holiness is all about love—love for God and love for people. Everywhere this love has produced robust followers of Jesus whose winsome, unselfish lives have so reflected Him that others have called them saints. Though they would have protested that they were unworthy of the term, there have been such saints at Salem, saints whom you have known—saints who have radiantly lived the “Jesus life,” which is God’s purpose for us all.

“Behold the Lamb of God which taketh away the sin of the world! Your great-grandparents gladly beheld Him that winter morning 119 years ago when the Rev. J.A. Gabrielson pointed them to the “Paschal Lamb.” We gladly behold Him, too, this morning, as we shall behold Him through all the years of our living and at last in the moment of our dying. But we shall find, as they have found long since—that dying shall only be living—living anew and living forever in His Nearer Presence. And with them and with all others who have beheld Him here, we shall behold Him there—the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world!