Some folks say that the reason Isaiah saw the seraphs in the Temple was because old King Uz had died. Origen of Alexandria says that. Way back in the 3rd century he said, “When King Uzziah was alive, the prophet Isaiah was unable to have visions. Uzziah had sinned and done what was evil in the sight of the Lord by deliberately breaking the divine law. He entered the Holy of Holies [the most sacred place in the temple], and for this his face broke out with leprosy. Hence he was forced to go outside of the city and live among the unclean. One way of reading the text then,” according to Origen, “is that it teaches that we will be able to see God only when we put to death the evil that rules our souls. This is the reason why the Scripture says: In the year the King Uzziah died I saw the Lord.”[1]
This is where the story starts. With the death of a king. And maybe it’s not just an extraneous fact thrown in there. Christians have been reading Isaiah chapter 6 for centuries. It’s one of our most important passages. And for all those centuries, whose name have they heard first? Old King Uz. Uzziah’s death is not unimportant. Old things are passing away. New things are coming. It’s just as true for us today as it was for Isaiah back in the day.
“In the year that King Uzziah died, I saw the Lord.” So says Isaiah. How can this be? People don’t just ‘see’ God. Even Moses only got to see God’s backside when he asked to see him. God told Moses, “No one can see me and live.” But he allowed Moses to stand in the cleft of a rock and when God got ready to pass by, God put a hand over Moses so he couldn’t see. Then when the glory of God had passed by God took that hand off Moses and all he could see was God moving on. [Exodus 33]
Sure, Abraham and Sarah met God when they hosted the three strangers in their tent, but they didn’t know what was going on until later. It was God in disguise. And, yes, Jacob wrestled all night long with a man by the river Jabbok and come daybreak realized it was God. He even named the place. Called it Peniel – “For I have seen God face to face and yet my life is preserved” [Gen. 32:30]. But it was God in disguise.
Sure, we touched God in a manger in Bethlehem. We were touched by him as he healed lepers and gave his hand to poor folks and welcomed children. We sat down with God at a table and smelled his scent and heard his voice, received his bread and drank from the same cup. We touched God. We nailed God to a cross and watched his blood flow. Sure, we saw God, we killed God, but we didn’t know what we were doing. Jesus said so himself: “Forgive them, for they don’t know what they’re doing” [Luke 23:34].
But Isaiah saw God. “I saw the Lord sitting on a throne, lofty and raised up; and the hem of his robe filled the temple.” Now understand this. The Temple is where God was supposed to reside. King Solomon had built God a house so that the people would know where God was. God had a home among the people. And the holiest part of the Temple was the place where God resided.
Only Isaiah knew something now. God didn’t reside there. What building could contain God? Yesterday we dedicated the new worship center at Camp Occohannock on the Bay and wouldn’t it have been folly if we had declared that that was where God lived now? It’s a nice spot. Looks right out onto the Chesapeake Bay. If I were God, I might choose a place like that to live. But God can’t be contained like that.
That’s why when Isaiah had this vision it was only the hem of God’s robe that filled the Temple. God was somewhere beyond, above, out there. And there were seraphim – celestial creatures. Two of them. They had six wings. With two they covered their faces, with two they covered their nether parts and with two they flew. And what were they doing but singing out the truth? “Holy, holy, holy” - the threefold statement for the Triune God. “Holy, holy, holy is the Lord of Hosts, the whole earth is full of God’s glory.”
The whole earth. Not just this temple. Not just Jerusalem. Not just among the Jews. Not just among the humans. The whole earth is full of God’s glory.
Now the roof is coming off the place. The seraphim have raised the roof and the whole Temple is filled with smoke. For Isaiah the earth has been rocked. Who knows what other people saw around him? Perhaps for them it was a day like any other day. They saw but could not see. But for Isaiah it was as if the lens cap had been removed for just a second so that he could see the world as it truly was – filled with the glory of God.
“I’m a wretch,” said Isaiah. “I don’t deserve to be here. I should not be able to see God because I am a man with unclean lips and I live among a people with unclean lips. And yet…I’m seeing God.”
I’ve had moments where I have felt unworthy to the things I’m bearing witness to. Like when my children were born and I watched that amazing, messy process while I was feeding ice chips to Suzanne. And then holding that new life and not being able to find words…there were just no words. And, O Lord, you want me to be responsible?
Or, on another scale entirely, to come to the edge of a mountain and to look out on the vastness of the earth below and to feel so inconsequential and so vulnerable. Or to be in a small boat in a very large sea.
Why should such things make us feel unworthy? What have we done to deserve a feeling like that? Except that in moments like those we know that we are mortal and limited and not sufficient to the life that is within us and around us.
I read a book recently called Rapt, which was about the way our brains handle all of the input that comes our way each day. The book suggested that we can’t pay attention to everything that comes our way or we would just go crazy. And perhaps what we feel in moments like Isaiah’s vision or in those other moments I’ve described is that we are getting a sense of how much there is in the world and how overwhelming it is. As the early saint Augustine knew moments of rapture can never be captured in words because these moments are by definition beyond words.
What is God’s response to Isaiah’s unclean lips? A seraph is sent with a burning coal that was taken from the altar. The seraph touches Isaiah’s mouth with the coal and tells him, “Now that this has touched your lips, it will take away your transgressions and purify your sins.”
Now Isaiah can not only see, he can hear. And the first thing he hears is the voice of the Lord. He has seen God and heard God! And what he hears is God saying, “Whom shall I send, and who will go to this people?”
Probably before he knows what he’s doing, Isaiah says, “Here I am; send me!”
The text for the day ends there. A seemingly happy ending. A man has a vision and responds and he finds his calling in serving the Living God.
But it’s a terrible thing he’s asked to do. God goes on to tell Isaiah that he’s going to speak to a people who will not be able to have an experience like he’s had. They will listen but not understand. They will see but not perceive. They will hear what God has to tell them about how they should turn to God for healing but they will not respond. And they will continue to wander away from God until their cities are laid waste and they are taken away into exile. This is the message Isaiah has to take to the people and you wouldn’t know it if you stopped with verse 8.
This is the stark contrast: That Isaiah sees a God so grand and so awesome that no Temple could contain God. The earth is filled with the glory of God. All flesh should tremble at this sight. Yet they don’t.
Around Isaiah the people continue to go about their business blissfully unaware that God is rocking Isaiah’s world. The Temple is filled with smoke…the house…the house…the house is on fire…but nobody stops. Only Isaiah knows and only he has responded, “Here I am; send me.”
In the movie The Matrix there is a scene in which the main character is faced with a huge decision. Neo has been taken from his life as he has known it by a group of people who see the world for what it really is. Neo and all the people around him think that they are in control of their lives and that they can trust the reality they see. But these people who come to Neo, one of whom is named Trinity, tell him that really he and every other person are held captive by an enslaving force and they are only given dreams of an independent life to delude them.
The decision Neo faces is symbolized by two pills that are offered him by a character named Morpheus. If he takes the blue pill he will forget he has ever been approached by the rebel group and he will go back to living in the world of illusion. If he takes the red pill he will discover the truth about the Matrix he has been living in his whole life without knowing it. But having taken the pill he can never look back. He will have to face reality and perhaps death. He chooses the red pill and the adventure begins.
It is not too much to say that Isaiah faces the same sort of decision and all of us face the same decision when we are confronted with the Living God. We can go back to living a life of illusion, or we can choose to face a new reality that may demand our very lives. We can serve this God or we can serve the gods of unreality in a plastic world. What we can’t do is live a half-life where we pay lip service to God but go on to live as if God doesn’t matter.
That, however, is just how we Christians tend to live our lives. We give God and hour on Sunday but we go out to live lives in which it seems God doesn’t matter very much at all. We forget that the world is an enchanted place. We forget that every molecule of this planet is infused with life and power and God’s glory. We forget that we are meant for something more.
What’s it going to be, my brothers and sisters? What are we going to do? God hasn’t stopped calling forth prophets. And the world needs prophets to help it resist the charms of the carnival where the wheel of fortune spins away. The world needs to know what it is. People need to know who they are. The poor need to know they have not been forgotten. The oppressed need to hear of the coming day of the Lord. The children need to know they have a place at the table. The workers need to know there is justice. And the hard-hearted need to know that there is love.
The world needs prophets who will see and hear. Who will recognize Jesus in their neighbor. Who say to the Living God, “Here I am; send me.” Even me. Just me. All of me.
King Uz is dead. Long live the King. Thanks be to God.
Isaiah 6:1-8 (NRSV)
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!"
[1] Origen, trans. By Robert Wilken, found in Isaiah: Interpreted by Early Christian and Medieval Commentators, [Eerdmans: Grand Rapids, MI, 2007], p. 64.
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