Do Me A Favor?

Isaiah 6:1-8

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!’

We’ve all been asked the question, “Hey will you do me a favor?” And you’re a reasonable, good person, you assume the person asking you is also a reasonable, good person, so you response “Yeah, sure, I’m here, what do you need?” And this supposedly reasonable, good person says, “Great, I need help moving, and I need to be completely out of my apartment in 3 hours, see you in a minute k thnx bye” and you immediately regret saying yes before you asked what the favor actually was?

Well Church, that’s how I imagine Isaiah may have felt after this passage we just heard ends. Because after this spectacular vision, this unbelievable communication with God, the thing Isaiah is tasked with is instructing the people of Judah to do:

“Keep listening, but do not comprehend;

keep looking, but do not understand.”

Make the mind of this people dull,

   and stop their ears,

   and shut their eyes,

so that they may not look with their eyes,

   and listen with their ears,

and comprehend with their minds,

   and turn and be healed.’” Until, essentially, Judah is nonexistent.

I’m sorry to be a bit of a downer here, Church—because initially, this is such an exciting passage, this is such bewildering and beautiful story of a prophet being called by God. But it seems disingenuous to end it with the call and not include the commission—which sounds kind of like God is instructing Isaiah to instruct the people of Judah to utterly destroy themselves by not listening to the word of God, by not listening to reason, by not listening to the warnings of Isaiah. Imagine Isaiah so blown away by this incredible experience, so he exclaims “YES, HERE I AM, SEND ME!” and then finding out what happens next will be total destruction, and that whatever warnings or advice he gives will be ignored. I wonder if he regretted saying yes. I don’t know if I would regret saying yes, after such a divine experience, but I would certainly have some second thoughts! I feel like, regarding this passage, I could, as I did two weeks ago, preach another sermon exasperatingly asking, what’s the point?

“Why call me to prophesy if the people will just ignore me? Why call me to warn these people if they’re ultimately going to self-destruct?” I imagine Isaiah is thinking—but after experiencing something like this, how do you say no? After an experience like this, with angelic creatures flying around in this mystical temple that can’t fully contain the hugeness and the glory of God, how do you not agree to be a mouthpiece of God before knowing what comes next? But even more than this, even more than being blown away by such a divine experience, I think Isaiah was inspired by something much simpler. Despite what comes after the passage we just heard, I think Isaiah was inspired by the goodness of God, by the love of God.

See, Isaiah comes into this experience at the beginning of this passage during a time of uncertainty and transition. A well-liked king as just died, and there are some power-grabs and shady political alliances in the making; the people of Judah are behaving selfishly, and Isaiah humbly considers himself among the selfish. He’s feeling overwhelmed, guilty, and unworthy of being in this temple. Something I’ve touched on before in sermons is how, in the world we live in now—one that values things that are antithetical to everything the Bible teaches—riches, power, material things, it is so hard to be a good Christian. It’s hard to be a good person. We’re pulled in so many different directions that go against the values of equality, peace, kindness and love that is the core, the heart, the foundation of our faith. How do we live faithfully in a world that throws the faithful, the peaceful, and the meek to the wolves?

As usual, I don’t have a straight answer to that question, I’m sorry to say— but to find some kind of direction, to find some kind of hope, let’s go back to Isaiah here. Isaiah arrives at this divine temple, and he’s so overwhelmed, he exclaims, “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!” He feels unworthy. He feels he has been unable to live a good, holy life because of the harsh world he was born into. He feels like he shouldn’t be allowed in this temple. And to add to this, to make this quote even more powerful, when he says I am lost, this can actually also, just as correctly be translated as I am silenced. “Lost” is powerful in its own right—we can all relate to feeling unmoored in distressing times; but “silenced” is something else—to be silenced is to be powerless. To be silenced to be paralyzed, to feel completely helpless.

Everything is so divided and politicized in today’s world, it can feel scary to say something as simple and true as Black Lives Matter; or to say Love is Love; or women’s rights are human rights.  Last week during Pentecost I wondered whether it was the fear of being scoffed at, reviled, or even hurt in some way that stops people from speaking truth, that stops people from making efforts to understand one another. Well, it’s a new week and I’m still wondering that. Because I believe that Isaiah was living in such a tumultuous, tenuous, and uncertain time, that he wasn’t comfortable verbalizing his feelings that this isn’t the way things should be; that he was scared to say anything that might go against the status quo that benefited the powerful; that he was living in fear and so he was unable to live the authentic, faithful life that he so wanted to live. Church, I stand before you preaching, but I confess, I have these fears daily. There are things that I believe in my heart of hearts that Jesus would be in favor of; basic human rights that I see being trampled every day only to lift the powerful even more; things that seem basic to me, but I know are strangely thought of “radical” in today’s upside-down world. And I admit, I’m often afraid of speaking these things aloud for fear of some kind confrontation or some kind of retaliation. I think many of us feel we are walking on eggshells all the time. I think many of us feel inadequate or cowardly because of our silence, and then we feel unworthy, and so we remain silent in the face of oppression, it’s really a vicious cycle. In my lower, very human moments, when I sometimes experience the ever-present and ever-dreaded imposter syndrome, I wonder—should I even be up here right now? Preaching to all of you when I’m often quieter than I should be about things that I believe are true?

I think this is why the first thing Isaiah says when he’s in this divine temple is, “Woe is me!” He doesn’t think he deserves to be there. He has unclean lips and he lives among people of unclean lips, and yet, here he is with God. Isaiah apparently needs to be cleansed in some way, since one of these seraphs touches his lips with a hot coal—but there’s no indication there was any pain. There’s no indication there was any punishment or any scolding. Isaiah is simply aware of how difficult it’s been for him to live a good life in the environment he was in, and he’s forgiven. He’s cleansed. He’s purified.

But more than being purified, he’s given a voice. It’s no wonder that the first thing Isaiah does with this new voice is exclaim “Here I am! Send me!” The grace and love of God give Isaiah this voice. He realizes that he is worthy to speak truth in the world, to speak truth to power. It doesn’t matter how hard it’s been in the past; it doesn’t matter that he hadn’t spoken up against wrongs enough in the past. By God purifying him and blotting out his guilt, God is making it clear, “I love you and your past doesn’t matter. I love you and there is always time to change; there is always time to say and do and say the right thing.” It is never too late.

What will it take for us to have this confidence that Isaiah is gifted? What will it take for us to understand that God loves us, that we are worthy of speaking truth, that God often calls us when we are feeling our lowest, at our most unworthy? What will it take for us to recognize God’s unconditional love and grace? Because I certainly can’t promise that we’ll all have a divine experience like Isaiah has. I can’t promise that any of our calls, reminders, or assurances will be exciting or mind-blowing. In fact, there’s a good chance that whatever our call from God looks like, it might make us second-guess ourselves; it might make us regret saying yes to following the word of God, to following the work of Jesus. Because, as I’ve repeated ad nauseum, this work isn’t easy. This work is hard. Sometimes this work is dangerous.

See, Isaiah was called to prophesy, minister, and preach to a hard-hearted people. He was tasked with warning the leaders of Judah that they were making bad decisions, that they were putting their faith in the wrong people. He was tasked with, essentially, warning the leaders that their “politics as usual” way of leading was going to get them in the end. The new king was making some questionable alliances, and spoiler alert: this would soon send the Jews back into a kind of exile. But the leaders of this day weren’t thinking that far ahead. They weren’t thinking of what was good for their people. They weren’t thinking of the commands from God, by way of Isaiah.  Isaiah chapter 1:

 What to me is the multitude of your sacrifices?
   says the Lord;
I have had enough of burnt-offerings of rams
   and the fat of fed beasts;
I do not delight in the blood of bulls,
   or of lambs, or of goats.

Wash yourselves; make yourselves clean;
   remove the evil of your doings
   from before my eyes;
cease to do evil,
   learn to do good;
seek justice,
   rescue the oppressed,
defend the orphan,
   plead for the widow.

Church, this is what the kings of Isaiah’s day were ignoring. They were ignoring the plights of their own people in favor of riches and political power. They were taking part in shallow rituals to their God thinking that was enough.

Now, when you’re up against money and power, you’re always gonna be the underdog. So I wonder if the instruction towards anger and the destruction that comes after Isaiah accepts his call to be a prophet, I wonder if this was a warning more than a literal instruction—God saying, you’re going to speak truth to them, you’re going to warn them, you’re going to explain what they need to do for everything be good, but they will not listen. They’re blinded by riches and power and it will feel futile. Of course there’s the ever-present question about why God would let this happen, but we won’t go down that rabbit hole today.

But since we’re living in a world where the rich are getting richer and richer and more and more powerful, what we can take from this story is that no matter how much truth we spew, no matter how much confidence or how loud a voice we are gifted from God, those in power will almost always defend their actions, their wealth, and their power. So the work we’re doing to bring the Kingdom of Heaven to this world will feel futile sometimes, there’s no denying that. But let’s go from today remembering that we, like Isaiah, will feel guilty sometimes, we’ll stumble, we’ll make mistakes, but we are worthy to speak God’s truth. We are worthy and we are tasked with speaking God’s truth. So do God a favor. Accept this commission. Accept God’s love. Amen.