Sermon
Isaiah 6:1-6
Marching Orders
A community of faith, if it is doing its job, should always be a place that recognizes and facilitates the call of God on individual lives.
As a congregation here at Calvary Baptist Church, we are doing just that today as we celebrate the calling and sending of a whole handful of lives in this congregation. We officially welcome our interns, those who have been called by God to this place at this time to join us in ministry this summer. And as we celebrate with them, bless their work this summer and watch them embrace their callings, we marvel at the ways in which God’s Spirit can take a life and give it direction.
And we’re also blessing Kevin Biggins and sending him on his way today. As we’ve sat in the pews the last few years we’ve had front-row seats to watch the birth of great talent right here on the bench of Calvary’s beautiful organ. The first time he sat on that bench he was 15 years old and largely inexperienced in the mechanics of leading a congregation in worship . . . he’s now graduated from high school and headed off to the very prestigious Westminster Choir College to prepare himself for a lifetime of leading God’s people in worship . . . .
Folks, there are lives being called and sent all around us this morning. How appropriate it is, then, to read in our Old Testament passage this morning the famous passage of the calling of the Prophet Isaiah!
Around 926 B.C., the kingdom of Israel became fractured, split right down the middle into Israel to the North and Judah to the South. Up to that point, all twelve tribes of Israel had been united under the monarchies of the big three kings of Israel: Saul, David, and Solomon.
You can read about all the intrigue that occurred when Solomon’s son Rehoboam ascended to Israel’s throne. When he took the throne the ten Northern tribes rebelled and seceded from the union. This left only two tribes—Judah and Benjamin—under the control of the king in Jerusalem.
From that time on, the tribes were divided into two nations, which came to be called the House of Israel (the Northern ten tribes) and the House of Judah (the Southern two tribes).
Isaiah was employed as a temple prophet in the Kingdom of Israel, the politically vulnerable Northern Kingdom, under the reign of King Uzziah. Since he worked in the temple proper he was a “company man” busy helping the priests prepare sacrifices, living in the temple, enjoying a life of prestige and position.
Isaiah’s job was to bring a word from God to God’s people Israel, and that’s what he did. In the hierarchy of temple staffing back then, you see, there were specific people assigned to go around offering critique of the society in which they lived; their institutional role was to be critical, to make sure the people were following God closely enough so that they would not get lost in the abyss of idol worship of their neighbors. The prophet was like a barometer to gauge what he or she saw going on in society, checking to make sure that the people were faithfully following the law of Yahweh.
Yes, this was Isaiah’s job and he did it with vigor. And for the first six chapters of the magnificent prophetic book of Isaiah we hear that things in the Kingdom of Israel, Isaiah’s beat, were in sad straits.
Isaiah called it like he saw it, and what he saw was pretty dismal. This is what God had to say through the message of the prophet Isaiah: you Israelites are as stubborn as donkeys, and God is fed up with you. You are living sinful lives that neglect the safety of the people; your worship is empty and meaningless, as flimsy as a house of cards; you spend all your time and energy on pursuits that leave widows and orphans hungry and alone. Fact of the matter is, you, Israel, are like an unfaithful wife . . . or even like watered down wine—pathetic. You select and maintain ineffectual, evil, even, leaders . . . your women dress in gaudy clothing and go around “winking shamelessly” . . . your behavior has crushed the spirit of the people and rubbed dirt in the faces of the poor. You’re an embarrassment to me; everything you do adds insult to injury and in no way proclaims the truth of Yahweh.
Isaiah tried to tell them, but every night he’d finish up his prophecies, sigh in disgust as he slammed and locked the temple doors, and get back to polishing the silver or caring for the linens, or whatever it was that a prophet was supposed to do when he wasn’t telling the people of Israel they were in serious trouble.
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Now remember: a community of faith, if it is doing its job, should always be a place that recognizes and facilitates the call of God on individual lives. In our passage today—six whole chapters into the prophecies of Isaiah the temple prophet, well into his career as a professional religious societal critic, . . . well, something changed, and changed radically.
It wasn’t a change in society, as Isaiah had been working for. Something changed . . . in Isaiah’s heart.
Take a look at the passage. Years of going about his business in the temple, with increasingly strident political ramifications because it was now the last year of the reign of King Uzziah—leadership was turning over, the threat of the Assyrians was intensifying and the role of the prophet took on an urgency that was unprecedented. In the middle of all of this Isaiah was doing his job one day, just going about his business when it happened . . . he saw the Lord.
Even years of working as a temple professional could not have prepared him for the powerful, earth-shattering experience he had that day. God swept into the temple in a way even a temple lurker like Isaiah had NEVER seen before. God was holy beyond any human conception of holy and right in that moment—not one moment before—Isaiah’s entire life changed. He saw the Lord, and in doing so he also saw a whole new framework for life. Going about critiquing a society desperately in need of critique seems almost secondary given the reality of Isaiah’s vision. You see, in that moment, when he saw the Lord, he also saw that society was not the only thing in need of redemption . . . Isaiah himself totally and desperately needed reform. God was about the business of changing things, but God wanted to start right here—with Isaiah’s own heart.
Yesterday was a bright-sunshiny early summer day in Washington. The temperature was a little cooler than I would have liked; the sun shone all day and the wind was rather blustery. The scene at Calvary’s Camp Fraser was picture-perfect: dappled sunshine, bustling activity, barely contained enthusiasm for the summer camp program just about to begin. We gathered out at Fraser to enjoy that beautiful place and to spend time together.
About four o’clock, a whole group of us trudged down the hill to the Potomac River. As the group gathered on the banks of the river we sang and prayed and heard a story of faith. Then I got to wade into that water with our friend and fellow church member Zach Boren.
Zach, you see, has been part of our community of faith for some time. He wanted to be baptized in the river and was kind enough to wait until Spring to go through with it.
There’s something unique and exciting about doing a baptism in the river . . . like living out a scene from O Brother Where Art Thou or something like that. But for me, well, I am a pastor. It’s my job to perform baptisms and to be part of a spiritual step like the one Zach took yesterday.
For Zach, though, there was nothing routine, ordinary or professional about the experience.
There he was, trudging down to the river, donning a white robe, wading into the water in front of a whole group of people, boldly confessing his faith in front of everyone, and letting me dunk him under the rushing water only to come up dripping.
What would compel a perfectly normal adult to hike down to the Potomac River, dress in a white robe and allow someone to dunk him under? Why would Zach want to stand in the cold water and tell all of us about this elusive and, some would say, crazy experience of coming to faith? Why on earth would he welcome the gathering of a crowd of people to watch this strange scene? Surely anyone boating by would think he was nuts.
Why would Zach do such a thing?
I’ll tell you why . . . because, like Isaiah, Zach saw the Lord.
No, no, I don’t think he would tell you his experience was much like seraphims coming down out of heaven or long flowing robes of divine glory surrounding him.
No, what Zach might say he had in common with the prophet Isaiah is that faith, religion, God have somehow changed . . . changed from institutions, from abstract ideas, from philosophical inquiries . . . to a tangible, life-transforming experience with the living God. A coal-touching, glory-blinding, life-changing experience in which a response like wading into the rushing waters of the Potomac river in a white robe in front of everybody seems like . . . well, seems like the least he could do.
For Isaiah, in that moment everything changed. HE SAW THE LORD. He knew that God was no longer abstract, professional or institutional. And the transformation of society for which he had lobbied so long in his professional capacity suddenly took on an even more compelling nature when he realized that the transformation of society, the coming of the Kingdom of God, began . . . right here. In him. In his flawed, human identity as a man with unclean lips.
When Isaiah saw the Lord everything changed for him. All of the sudden all he could think about was playing his little part in the work of God in this world. He begged: “Here I am . . . please, PLEASE send me!” There was nothing, NOTHING in all of life that would fulfill Isaiah more than living a life totally and utterly given over to God.
You and I might be a little like the prophet Isaiah. Some of us are institutionally ensconced . . . we’re here every week, for Pete’s sake! We grew up in the church, we can recite the Lord’s prayer by heart, we might even have our own copies of the key to the deacon’s closet.
When we read about the calling of the prophet Isaiah, though, we recognize instantly and powerfully that it does not matter if you’ve been part of this community of faith since the day you were born, or if this is the first time you’ve ever set foot in any church at all.
What matters is whether or not YOU HAVE SEEN THE LORD . . . whether or not the Spirit of God has gotten ahold of your heart, taken your hand and invited you to embark on the grand adventure of following God.
As we come to the Table of Christ together today I want to invite you to take a few moments to look around. Don’t look at the polished silver you see every single time we have communion. Don’t look at the beautiful organ or the stained glass windows. Don’t look at what you’ve always known to be true about God.
Look around, instead, for a little glimpse of glory . . . just for you. Look around for God, coming into your life, shaking you by the shoulders and offering you the opportunity to be part of God’s great invitation to heal . . . your life . . . our world.
When you do, when you see the Lord, you will suddenly find that your life seems complete only as it fits into the larger plan of God’s healing for this world. And in whatever way you are called, you will feel instantly and urgently compelled to shout at the top of your lungs, “Here I am, Lord . . . Send me!” Amen.
Scripture quotations are the author’s paraphrase.
Copyright 2006, Amy Butler. Used by permission.