“Awestruck” – June 3, 2012 Sermon

Scripture: Isaiah 6: 1-8                                                                                June 3, 2012

In the year that King Uzziah died, I saw the Lord sitting on a throne, high and lofty; and the hem of his robe filled the temple. Seraphs were in attendance above him; each had six wings: with two they covered their faces, and with two they covered their feet, and with two they flew. And one called to another and said: “Holy, holy, holy is the Lord of hosts; the whole earth is full of his glory.” The pivots on the thresholds shook at the voices of those who called, and the house filled with smoke.
And I said: “Woe is me! I am lost, for I am a man of unclean lips, and I live among a people of unclean lips; yet my eyes have seen the King, the Lord of hosts!” Then one of the seraphs flew to me, holding a live coal that had been taken from the altar with a pair of tongs. The seraph touched my mouth with it and said: “Now that this has touched your lips, your guilt has departed and your sin is blotted out.” Then I heard the voice of the Lord saying, “Whom shall I send, and who will go for us?” And I said, “Here am I; send me!”

Sermon: Awestruck                                                                                     Rev. Doreen Oughton

“In the year that King Uzziah died” our text this morning begins, setting the story in a real place in history. The time was mid-eighth century BCE, which means over 2750 years ago. Who was Isaiah? He was a prophet in Judah during this time. He was a prophet who lived in a time when Israel moved from a period of relative peace, into a time when Assyria began to conquer surrounding nations, including Israel. The Assyrian rule over Israel lasted about a century and a half, until the Babylonians took control. Isaiah’s prophetic career lasted about 40 years, through the reign of four Judean kings. Isaiah preached to the Uzziah and his successors to rely on God, not to get involved in power politics, looking for mercy or assurances from other countries. He taught that only by relying on God would Israel ultimately prevail. King Uzziah didn’t listen. King Uzziah took credit for having built up the kingdom in a time of peace, and took upon himself the responsibility of figuring out its salvation in a time of attack. But it was the prophet’s job to preach the Word of God, to remind this king of the distinction between the holy and the human, the earthly and the divine.

“In the year that King Uzziah died,” is a statement that not only places the passage in history, but also gives us an idea of the climate of the times. It might be like hearing a story that begins, “In the year when the stock market crashed,” or “in the year when Pearl Harbor was bombed,” or “in the year when the planes flew into the World Trade Center,” or “the year when the banks crashed.” It was a time of uncertainty and fear and upheaval. How hard is it, in a time like that, to trust that God has everything under control? It must have been difficult to hear this Word. It must have been difficult to preach.

But in that year that King Uzziah died, Isaiah had a vision, an encounter with God different from the ways he had received his prophesies. Before and after, he heard and spoke the words of the Lord, but here he has an awesome visual encounter. We throw that word around so lightly these days – awesome. A book or song or movie is awesome. A vacation is awesome. But really, do those things fill us with real awe? Now Isaiah had this vision either of the Temple or in the Temple, the place the Hebrews believed housed a part of God in the Holy of Holies. The Temple was the place where worlds intersected – the world of political rule and the world of religious authority, the world of God and the world of God’s people – these all came together here in the Temple. Isaiah sees the hem of God’s robe filling the temple, and Isaiah sees beyond that, sees God sitting on a throne high and lofty. And the seraphs call Isaiah’s attention beyond even what he can see. They say that the whole earth is full of God’s glory.

What a dramatic affirmation to Isaiah that indeed God does have everything in hand. What a reminder that no matter what is happening in our worldly understanding, the whole earth is full of God’s glory. God’s reign and glory are not just for Israel, but for everything and everyone. We can hear these words today that God’s glory and favor are not just for this nation, but for all nations, for all people. We can hear these words today reminding us that however confusing and scary and uncertain things look, God has it all in hand. God has it all in hand, but not usually in ways we can understand, not usually in the ways that we would like to see everything working out. We are reminded again that God’s ways are not our ways.

Isaiah has this vision of the greatness of God, the vastness of God’s concern and regard for everything, and he is truly struck with awe. He is awestruck, but he is not dumbstruck. He does not feel paralyzed by this sight, but he is moved inwardly. He is moved to a sense of humility. In the presence of God’s greatness, he experiences not only his smallness, but his flaws, his sin if you will. I love this response, and I love Isaiah’s response to his cleansing. I find his humility beautiful in its sincerity, in its honesty, in the way Isaiah is free to feel and express it, and is not bound and held back by it. How many of us can experience humility without feeling humiliated? How many of us can know our own smallness and flaws, our own sins, without being bound by them?  Too often our fear of knowing our smallness and our sin keeps us from seeing with awe. It keeps us from opening ourselves up to visions of truth and beauty and grace. I can’t stand the way people look to tear down others who have done something courageous or honest or kind. I can’t stand how quick people are to call someone a hypocrite or point out a weakness, trying to discredit a strength. No human being is perfect, and we will always be able to find that weakness in someone. But in focusing our energies there, we lose sight of the truth and beauty and inspiration of something great. We lose out in our efforts to avoid feeling small and humble, as if that were a terrible thing.

Isaiah teaches us that it is not a terrible thing. It is a great and wonderful thing, to experience humility, to be aware of one’s flaws. It is a thing that opens us up to God’s grace. This passage is referred to as the call of Isaiah. This is the passage where Isaiah is moved, not just to humility, but to action. I’m not sure just when he felt compelled to say, “Here I am, send me.” Was it before he experienced his lack, or after? Did he see God on the throne, the seraphs flying around him singing of his glory, and say, “I must serve, I must do something,” but then was confronted with his own unclean lips, causing him to cry out “Woe is me!”? Or was it after the coal touched his lips, and he felt the freedom of having his sin blotted out? Either way, there is a message here for us. If we are moved to serve God, but feel unworthy, we can trust God to blot out our sin. We don’t have to go fix ourselves in order to serve, we don’t have to wait until we have it all together. We can experience our smallness and sinfulness and not stay stuck there.

Or we can hear and trust the promises of Christ, that in his sacrifice and resurrection our sins have already been forgiven. We are free to let go of our guilt and listen for what God needs in this world. It’s interesting that although this is considered Isaiah’s call story, God doesn’t actually call him. God doesn’t tell him what he should do, the way God told Abraham and Moses what they should do. God is wondering aloud, perhaps conferring with the seraphim or some divine council – Who will go for us, who shall I send? Isaiah hears God’s need and steps up. Where do you hear God’s need? Where are the places that need God’s messengers and servants? Just listen, just look. Don’t worry that you are too small, that you are flawed and imperfect. God will cleanse you and make you holy as only God can, so that we might stand before God and say, “Here I am. Send me.” May it be so.