Here Am I
Isaiah 6:1-13
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Isaiah 6:1-13
6 In the year that King Uzzi′ah died I saw the Lord sitting upon a throne, high and lifted up; and his train filled the temple. 2 Above him stood the seraphim; each had six wings: with two he covered his face, and with two he covered his feet, and with two he flew. 3 And one called to another and said:
“Holy, holy, holy is the Lord of hosts;
the whole earth is full of his glory.”
4 And the foundations of the thresholds shook at the voice of him who called, and the house was filled with smoke. 5 And I said: “Woe is me! For I am lost; for I am a man of unclean lips, and I dwell in the midst of a people of unclean lips; for my eyes have seen the King, the Lord of hosts!”
6 Then flew one of the seraphim to me, having in his hand a burning coal which he had taken with tongs from the altar. 7 And he touched my mouth, and said: “Behold, this has touched your lips; your guilt is taken away, and your sin forgiven.” 8 And I heard the voice of the Lord saying, “Whom shall I send, and who will go for us?” Then I said, “Here am I! Send me.” 9 And he said, “Go, and say to this people:
‘Hear and hear, but do not understand;
see and see, but do not perceive.’
10 Make the heart of this people fat,
and their ears heavy,
and shut their eyes;
lest they see with their eyes,
and hear with their ears,
and understand with their hearts,
and turn and be healed.”
11 Then I said, “How long, O Lord?”
And he said:
“Until cities lie waste
without inhabitant,
and houses without men,
and the land is utterly desolate,
12 and the Lord removes men far away,
and the forsaken places are many in the midst of the land.
13 And though a tenth remain in it,
it will be burned again,
like a terebinth or an oak,
whose stump remains standing
when it is felled.”
The holy seed is its stump. (Isaiah 6:1-13, RSV)
“In the year that King Uzziah died” is an easy detail to miss in the shadows of Isaiah’s grand vision. King Uzziah was 16 when he began his reign which lasted for an impressive 52 years. Described by some as second only to Solomon’s fame, King Uzziah, for the most part, was considered a good king, despite some pride-fueled mistakes at the end of his reign that resulted in leprosy.
During his reign he strengthened the economy, built infrastructure, reinforced the army and expanded the territory. In Judah, the state of the union was indeed very strong under King Uzziah.
Saying “in the time of King Uzziah” is akin to saying “in the good old day.”
But then as humans are known to do, he died. And with him, died a period of independence and stability. In the shadows of the rising Assyrian superpower, this was an ominous time for Judah. Dark clouds were on the horizon, fear was in the air, life was unsettled. It is in this moment now when we find Isaiah and his story of being called.
In our gospel passage this morning, we heard the story of Jesus calling James, John, and Peter. After a miraculous catch of fish and a near sinking of the boat, these disciples are ready to leave their nets and their livelihoods behind to follow Jesus and become catchers not of fish, but of people.
Last week, we heard the call story of Jeremiah. And perhaps we sympathized with Jeremiah’s hesitation and his attempt to use his young age as an excuse to be relieved from duty.
And of course, there are the call stories of Abraham, Moses, Samuel, Ezekiel, Jonah, Mary, Paul…
But when it comes to the genre of ‘call stories,’ Isaiah probably wins the prize! Isaiah’s enthusiastic “Here am I! Send me!” echoes in hymns and sermons at ordinations and commissioning’s the world over.
Returning now, to that year when everything changed with the death of King Uzziah, we rejoin Isaiah and his grand vision.
Seeing the Lord and living to tell the tale is something that very few get away with in Scripture, but here we have Isaiah - and he looks up and sees the Lord, high and lifted up, seated on a throne. Seated on a throne higher up than good King Uzziah’s throne. A throne higher up than the threatening King of Assyria. A throne higher than any Caesar or President, or any other power we humans are tempted to place all our fear or hope in.
Our translation says that God’s train filled the temple, but more specifically, the Hebrew says that the hem of the train filled the temple. The smallest part of the royal robe filled the biggest building that humans in that place and time could build. The building that was built to be a microcosm of the entire cosmos, filled only by the hem of God’s robe here in Isaiah’s vision
As if the scale of this scene alone isn’t enough to evoke fear and awe, above the Lord on his throne stand the Seraphim. These are not the flying chubby baby angels of Renaissance art, but translated more accurately, the seraphim are “fiery serpents”. That’s right – six-winged snakes that are on fire, (although I’m not sure if that’s scarier than flying babies…).
As the foundations shake and the temple fills with smoke, the Seraphim call out to one another the age-old hymn sung by the church in every time and place, including here earlier this morning: “Holy, Holy, Holy is the Lord of Hosts; the whole earth is full of his glory.”
Isaiah’s every sense is engaged. The shaking of the ground, the heat of fire, the smell of smoke, the sight of the throne and royal robe filling the temple, the piercing sound of the singing Seraphim.
Standing before something so big and overpowering, it would be weird if you didn’t feel small and vulnerable. Isaiah’s response is the expected one standing before the Holy God. Calling out “woe is me!” Isaiah confesses that he is a man of unclean lips, dwelling in the midst of a people of unclean lips. His confession is met with cleansing as his lips are met with burning hot coal from the altar. A painful purification accompanied with reassuring words of forgiveness and freedom.
I don’t know about you, but my call story goes nothing like this. No smoke-filled temples or earthquakes, and not nearly as many fiery serpents.
In moments like this, though, I wonder if we’re just not paying enough attention to the glory of God, and I’m reminded of the great author Annie Dillard’s famous observation about how we worship at church:
“Why do people in church seem like cheerful, brainless tourists on a packaged tour of the Absolute? … Does anyone have the foggiest idea what sort of power we blithely invoke? Or, as I suspect, does no one believe a word of it? The churches are children playing on the floor with their chemistry sets, mixing up a batch of TNT to kill a Sunday morning. It is madness to wear ladies’ straw hats and velvet hats to church; we should all be wearing crash helmets. Ushers should issue life preservers and signal flares; they should lash us to our pews. For the sleeping god may wake someday and take offense, or the waking god may draw us to where we can never return.”
Isaiah’s vision this morning invites us to open our eyes to this power we blithely invoke. When we join Isaiah in this vision of the Holy One, our hearts are compelled to stand in awe and wonder at the mystery, fear, and beauty of the one who fills the whole earth with glory. With Isaiah in this moment, we can understand how easy it was for him to get wrapped up and carried away – because I love what happens next.
Isaiah, undone and overcome, encouraged by newfound forgiveness, overhears God speaking to the heavenly court, a discussion seemingly already in progress. “Whom shall I send, and who will go for us?” the voice of the Lord booms out across the heavens.
Standing on the outskirts of this scene, Isaiah in a moment of almost unbelievable boldness, volunteers himself: “Here am I, send me!”
Have you ever, in a moment of excitement, volunteered for something way over your head?
Yep. Isaiah definitely should have asked more questions first.
Actually, this is where the lectionary stops this morning. The rest of the passage, verses 9-13, are placed in parentheses to indicate that they are optional for the preacher. It would be so convenient to stop at verse 8 and encourage all of you to go out and boldly volunteer for committees and ministries! “Here I am! Send me!”
But I feel like that’s taking the easy way out – what comes after Isaiah’s brave volunteering is important also.
What is Isaiah tasked with? Put simply, he’s tasked with ….failure.
God says to him:
Go, and say to this people:
‘Hear and hear, but do not understand;
see and see, but do not perceive.’
10 Make the heart of this people fat,
and their ears heavy,
and shut their eyes;
lest they see with their eyes,
and hear with their ears,
and understand with their hearts,
and turn and be healed.”
Is God really telling Isaiah to make the people blind and deaf to the God who might save them? Isn’t the entire role of a prophet to open the eyes of the people??
No wonder we want to contain these passages safely between parentheses.
But did you know that these are among some of the most cited verses in the New Testament? Matthew, Mark, Luke, John, Acts, Romans – all cite these verses. And funny enough, these citations never make it into the lectionary either. It seems like we don’t know what to do with them.
Which puts us in good company with Isaiah, who immediately questioned God by asking “how long, O Lord?” I can see the look on his face, equal parts confusion and fear as he ponders the impossible message he’s been given to share.
So what do we do with this passage?
Whether or not God causes hearts to harden or eyes to close in Scripture is a question too big for one sermon.
What we do know, is that a prophet’s job is to reveal truth, and here, Isaiah is tasked with revealing what has already been the case - not necessarily causing eyes to be closed, but naming the reality that they already are and are on the way to total blindness. This is a warning to the people about the road they are already on and where it leads.
Having ‘eyes that don’t perceive and ears that don’t understand’ is an apt way to describe the people of Isaiah’s day who offered their sacrifices and observed all the rituals at the temple where they worshipped regularly, yet turned right around to oppress the hired worker, accept bribes, ignore the cries of the vulnerable, and worship idols with hopes of increased wealth and power.
Fat hearts. Heavy ears. Shut eyes.
And then when King Uzziah died and the era of prosperity shifted into an era of fear and insecurity – ‘eyes that don’t perceive and ears that don’t understand’ looked a whole lot like leaders who wanted to trust in weapons and armies rather than the promises of God, it looked like people who advocated for alliances with bloodthirsty superpowers rather than resting in their covenant with the Holy One of Israel.
Fat hearts. Heavy ears. Shut eyes.
It’s a dire warning, and of course we know that the worst of it does in fact come true as the book of Isaiah marches on and Judah is decimated by Babylon.
But we also don’t neglect the word of hope buried in Isaiah’s message. The great mystery of faith. When the land lay waste, the holy seed is the stump. Death never has the last word.
While the land is smoldering, a seed deep underground is germinating.
Out of total destruction, new life about to burst forth.
On those who dwelt in a land of deep darkness, on them a light shines.
Always death and resurrection. Then, and now.
So, here we are on this fifth Sunday of Epiphany, in this season of increasing light and understanding, and as we hear this message from Isaiah, may we have eyes to see God’s glory, and ears to hear his warning. In the name of Jesus Christ and by the power of the Holy Spirit, may our hearts be soft, our ears tuned, and our eyes open to the God who calls us and knows us by name. Amen.