Isa

Isa. 6

11/19/2006

“Here I Am!--a Measure of Thankfulness”

Another year is fast drawing to a close. It is time to look back and give thanks to the Lord. But we know that to say thanks is not the same as to be truly thankful. We all have received thankless thanks at one time or another--one of those perfunctory, dutiful, polite yet heartless thanks. And I’m pretty sure that we are all guilty of giving such thanks to others, whose acts of kindness deserve much more from us. We know, especially when we are at the receiving end, how such thanks are offensive and damaging to the relationship. We must take care that we do not just give lip service when we give thanks, especially to God.

But what does a genuine thanksgiving look like? Some can sound really genuine and look it, too--with tears and all. But how do we know whether someone is really thankful? So then, let us take a look at our passage for today. I believe it has some important things to say about true thankfulness.

Here we see Isaiah’s prophetic call. But what you see is not just cold facts about God’s irresistible authority and Isaiah’s dutiful compliance; here we see God’s amazing grace and Isaiah’s deep, profound gratitude. What is fascinating is that this prophetic call takes place here in Ch. 6 rather than in Ch. 1. Isaiah’s prophetic ministry began during the reign of Uzziah (1:1), obviously before his death. But this vision comes in the year of Isaiah’s death. Why, then, this seemingly belated call? What we witness here in Ch. 6, then, may not be Isaiah’s inaugural, general call to prophetic ministry; it is likely a special, a more specific, commission extended to him.

And here is where we see God’s gracious dealing with Isaiah. Take a look at the difficulty of the mission being assigned to Isaiah:

“Go, and say to this people: ‘Keep on hearing, but do not understand; keep on seeing, but do not perceive.’Make the heart of this people dull, and their ears heavy, and blind their eyes; lest they see with their eyes, and hear with their ears, and understand with their hearts, and turn and be healed” (vv. 9, 10).

As a mission decreed by God, it could not fail. But consider the strange nature of its success. Isaiah’s mission was to speak--and to keep on speaking--to the people, who would hear but not understand, see but not perceive. And the more he spoke, the more insensitive their hearts would become, the more deaf their ears would be and the darker their sight would grow. His words of warning and plea would fall on deaf ears and harden their hearts even more. And these were not his enemies; they were his beloved kinsmen. Do you see? Simply put, the success of Isaiah’s mission was ultimately failure.

What would you do if you knew that your life was destined to failure? No matter how hard you try, no matter how positive you stay in your outlook and attitude, no matter how proactive and creative you are, you are guaranteed to fail. Imagine how difficult it would be to keep going day after day, to get up in the morning, morning after morning. And that was the kind of mission given to Isaiah.

It seems as though God knew how hard, difficult and trying this mission would be for Isaiah. So, before He sends him out, He equips him with exactly what he needs to bear the heavy burden of a lonely, unappreciated prophet. Thus this vision in Isa. 6. Through it Isaiah experiences a new depth of God’s grace hitherto unknown to him, which was exactly what he needed to meet the unbearable challenges of his prophetic ministry. Do you see the tenderness of God?

Isaiah’s renewed and deepened understanding of God’s grace comes, first, through the true knowledge of himself in the light of God’s holiness.

“In the year that King Uzziah died….” Isaiah’s famous vision begins with this historical note. But this historical note is not just a simple time indicator; it is full of intense pathos, is it not?

What a telling statement it is concerning the nature of our existence! We are but mortals. All our roads lead to death. It matters not how our life began, high or low, or what paths we take, left or right: we all have one destination at the end of our life’s journey here on earth--death. The nightfall of our life casts its long shadow over our whole life’s journey. Even at the high points of our life, even at its zenith, we cannot shake off the shadow of death. No, it does not matter whether you are rich or poor, smart or dumb, young or old: at our appointed time each of us will breathe our last breath, never to breathe again.

It was a time of national mourning. For he who died was no average Joe: he was Israel’s king, King Uzziah. And he was not just a king; he was an extraordinary king, whose long reign of fifty-two years (2 Kings 15:2) was marked by military victories, territorial expansion and prosperity. What is most important, his life was summed up as doing what was right in the eyes of the Lord (2 Chron. 27:2).

At the height of his reign, however, he committed a critical sin: he wanted to offer incense at the temple, desiring “like Egypt’s kings, to… combine in himself all civil and religious power” (Fausset’s Bible Dictionary). So God struck him with leprosy. As a leper he could no longer carry on his royal duty. He had to retreat into the background and quite possibly share co-regency with his son Jotham the last twelve years or so. And his reign is said to be fifty-two years (2 Kings 15:2), which cover all the years from his coronation all the way to his death. So then, when he died, he died still a king: “In the year that King Uzziah died….” Even though he might have remained in the background, he was still king and his death marked the end of an era, an era that was long and prosperous for Judah. But even kings, with all of their power and authority, cannot escape the clutches of death. And Uzziah, the exceptional king of Judah, was no exception.

King Uzziah represented many things: the glory of the Davidic kingdom as well as its blemishes as evidenced by his drastic fall from power and position. And he died. Now in his death, he represented the mortality of man and the transience of human rule.

As you may have noticed already, it was no accident that this vision was given in the year of King Uzziah’s death. See what follows the historical note of Uzziah’s death: “I saw the Lord sitting upon a throne, high and lifted up; and the train of his robe filled the temple” (v. 1). The contrast could not be any clearer and more drastic: on the one hand, you have the human king, who just died; on the other hand, you have the high King of heaven, who reigns supreme from His exalted, heavenly throne. The king of Judah died but the Lord of heaven and earth still reigned supreme, undiminished in His glory and majesty, power and authority. Whatever emptiness was left by the departing of a human king was filled with this glorious vision of the eternal King of heaven. Whatever was the sense of uncertainty, it could not linger on: it was cast away by this vivid vision of God’s unshakable dominion. Whatever was the sense of loss, personal or national, it could no longer be bemoaned. Whatever emptiness you may feel, God can fill it most abundantly and generously.

And yet, Isaiah’s immediate response to this vision is not relief and jubilation--far from it! Instead of praising God and rejoicing, Isaiah cries out, “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” (v. 5)! Why? Because what he saw in his vision was not the glory and majesty of a mere mortal--the glory manufactured by the glitz and extravagance of his royal accoutrements and palatial surroundings. Isaiah saw the glory of God immortal, infinite and all-powerful, who is holy, holy, holy, three times holy! How does one even begin to describe this glory of God? If all men and angels were poets by trade and the sky the scroll and the ocean the ink, could we ever do justice to the majesty of God? Just think about how many poems and how many romances are inspired every day by the sunset! Yet each day’s sunset is unique, different from any others. And each sunset comes with most exquisite, countless variations of hue and color, appearance and shape! And this has been the way for thousands and thousands of years. Yet the sunset is only one of innumerable wonders of nature God dolls us each day. How much greater, how much more wondrous, must be the glory of God the Creator?

But the glory of God is breath-taking not just in a beautiful and pleasant way; His glory is the glory of a thrice holy God: it is dangerous. Throughout the whole Bible no attribute of God is given this three-time emphasis. “God is love.” But we never hear, “Love, love, love is the Lord our God!” What is holiness? Holiness means to be set apart: God is set apart from all creatures. But what kind of definition is this? It places God far beyond the grasp of our finite mind. The very definition of God’s holiness keeps God mysterious and unreachable. But whatever it may be in and of itself, we are not left in the dark. We can get a glimpse of God’s holiness by seeing its impact.

On the one hand, we see the holiness of God inducing praises from the angels: “And one called to another and said: ‘Holy, holy, holy is the LORD of hosts; the whole earth is full of his glory’” (v. 3)! On the other hand, we see God’s holiness inducing unspeakable sorrow and grief in Isaiah: “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” (v. 5)!

Do you see? There is something so stirring, so moving, so awe-inspiring about the holiness of God that one cannot stay indifferent and unmoved. The angels of heaven could not contain themselves from bursting out in praise. Isaiah became so completely overcome with unbearable grief and sorrow that he let out a soul-shaking cry of despair. Have you encountered the holiness of God?

But why the difference? Isaiah’s sinfulness. A sinner cannot behold the holy God and praise Him. A sinner has no time or state of mind to appreciate whatever is beautiful and glorious about the holiness of God, as wonderful and marvelous as it may be--so distressing, so excruciating, is the self-knowledge induced by the holiness of God. For God’s holiness exposes our sins--all of them, each and every one, without exception--from the greatest to the smallest, from the most obvious to the subtlest and craftiest sins. The light of God’s holiness, so pure, so brilliant, so penetrating, casts away all the darkness that covers our sins--all our excuses and self-justification. It exposes sin as it really is in all of its ugliness and heinousness. It reveals how utterly preposterous and ridiculous it is for us to think of ourselves better than others and hold a good opinion of ourselves before God.

Take a look at Isaiah’s confession: “I am a man of unclean lips, and I dwell in the midst of a people of unclean lips…” (v. 5)! I’m sure there were many other sins in his life. Then why did he highlight the guilt of his unclean lips? We already mentioned that Isaiah’s prophetic ministry had begun long before this vision. What is a prophet? He is the mouthpiece of God, who speaks forth the word of God! We may say, then, that the lips of a prophet are the most sacred part of his body: the channel through which the word of the holy God comes to the people of God. Can you see why Isaiah only mentions the uncleanness of his lips? There was nothing better, nothing more sacred, in him than his lips, through which came his prophetic utterances. And in confessing that he is guilty of unclean lips, he is acknowledging his total depravity. His best of best is unclean. Then what about the rest of him? If the holiness of God renders his best of best unclean, how unclean and despicable must be the rest of his body and soul? With his lips he has exposed the sinfulness of Israel all this time. Now he sees himself as no different and no better than they: “I am a man of unclean lips, and I dwell in the midst of a people of unclean lips….” A great equalizer is the awesome holiness of God.

So great is the holiness of God that its similar impact is felt even in the sinless, glorified angels of heaven. They have no sin to confess, no sin to be ashamed of. Their soul has no tinge of sin. They know not what it means to have their conscience afflicted with guilt. They have nothing to hide--or do they? See what these sinless, glorified angels do before the holy presence of God. They cover their faces and cover their feet. One’s face is a symbol of his honor; to spit on one’s face is to spit on his honor. One’s feet are a symbol of his humble condition and even shame. Though sinless and glorified, the angels of heaven dare not expose their feet before God. How could they when the glory of God compels them to hide even their faces, the symbol of their honor? So great is the chasm between God and creatures! So supreme and incomparable is the glory of God’s holiness!

Is it any wonder that Isaiah found himself in the depth of despair? His best of best was utterly despicable even in his own eyes. He was doomed. God would be totally justified in condemning him to eternal damnation. And that was what he awaited. And indeed, he saw a seraph approaching him with a burning coal in his hand, taken from the altar. Isaiah’s time of judgment had come. He would be consumed with fire to perish just like Nadab and Abihu, the two wicked sons of Aaron; just like Sodom and Gomorrah in their sin. Maybe he closed his eyes in fear, expecting the inevitable. Then he felt the burning coal on his mouth. “Here it comes! This is it!” he might have thought, clenching his teeth and pressing down his eyelids to ready himself for his death. But he did not die. He was still alive. And he heard the voice of the seraph saying, “Behold, this has touched your lips; your guilt is taken away, and your sin atoned for” (v. 7). He could not believe what was happening. He was in shock. He was in awe. He could not quite register what had just happened. He deserved condemnation. He deserved death. And he was given forgiveness, most unexpectedly. But he felt an overwhelming sense of relief flooding down throughout his entire being.

In that state of astonishment and relief Isaiah heard the voice of God, saying, “Whom shall I send, and who will go for us” (v. 8)? Isaiah, touched by grace, could not contain himself. As a child raising his hand up high, saying, “Me! Me! Me!” to a magician looking for a volunteer, Isaiah cried out, “Here I am! Send me!” That is the grace of God! That is gratitude!

Could Isaiah care how difficult his mission might be? And how long he must suffer and endure the unbearable burden of his prophetic ministry?

Have you encountered the holiness of God? And have you encountered your true self? There is no true gratitude apart from first encountering the holy God. Is this all too intellectual and ethereal for you? I hope not. Because the God we worship, even now, is the God of Isaiah’s vision. Yet you say you have not seen the vision that Isaiah saw? That is why your Christian life is lukewarm and mediocre? If you had seen what he saw, you too would lead a radical Christian life?

Can you say that when you see the cross? The vision Isaiah saw was not just a figment of his imagination. It was a glimpse into the reality of God and His matchless glory. But it was a privileged vision, lying beyond the chasm between heaven and earth, open only to a select few and that only rarely. But now in the cross of Jesus Christ we see a historical, public display of God’s holiness, the incarnation of Isaiah’s vision.

Isaiah’s vision was not just a glimpse of the heavenly reality; it was also prophetic in nature. For in Isaiah’s vision, the forgiveness of sin granted was without the shedding of blood, without the full execution of God’s justice and wrath. Thus it pointed to the need for a true Atonement. So on the cross of Jesus Christ, we see the full expression of God’s holiness--not just the prophetic picture but also its historical realization; not just the need of judgment but also the actual execution of judgment; not just an instance of grace but also the fullness of God’s grace, the essence of God’s grace incarnated in the death of Jesus Christ. Isaiah’s cry of despair, “Woe is me!” was subsumed under the cosmos-shaking cry of Jesus Christ, “My God, My God, why hast Thou forsaken Me?” Because of Jesus’ cry of utter abandonment, we have been redeemed never to be condemned!

What does a genuine thanksgiving look like? How do we know whether someone is really thankful? There is at least one way: whether or not one’s thanksgiving is translated into definite, tangible actions prompted by the gratitude. How high a tree can grow depends on how deep its roots go. The height of the tree of our service to God is a good indicator of how deep the root of our gratitude is: a true measure of our thankfulness to God is measured by our grateful service to Him. And that is what we see in this commissioning scene of Isaiah’s prophetic call.

What is so wonderful about this arrangement is that our grateful response is a response--a response to the gracious acts of God! Our gratitude is not just a choice of lifestyle we adopt for ourselves. Many do because they believe that it is better to see the cup of life as half full rather than half empty. So, rather than focusing on what they don’t have and grumble and complain about it all the time, they choose to be thankful for what they do have. But to whom is their thanksgiving directed? Who should receive their thanks? Fortune? Fate? But does Fortune have feelings or reason? Does Fate have character or discretion? Luck may be your lady tonight. But who knows what Lady Luck will do tomorrow--whether she will stay with you or she will ditch you to be someone else’s lady for the night? Who knows whether Master Fate is playing a cruel joke on you, setting you up for a greater fall? Who knows whether the luck you enjoy today is nothing but the last meal for the death-row inmate before the execution?

We, on the other hand, have a definite reason to be thankful and a definite Person to be thankful to--Someone who is dependable and trustworthy, Someone who is worthy of our gratitude because of His goodness and faithfulness to us.

As we bring our thanksgiving to the Lord, may it be genuine and authentic, produced and molded by the full reality of God’s holiness, the full reality of our sinfulness and unworthiness and the full reality of God’s grace displayed at the cross of Jesus Christ. What does Christ deserve from us--He, who, because of His covenant faithfulness went all the way to the cross gladly and willingly? Doesn’t He deserve our unwavering loyalty--something that is not shaken by small challenges, no, not even by the greatest catastrophe? And what is our mission from Him? A mission destined to failure? No! If the grace of God was enough to carry Isaiah through his mission that was destined to fail, how much lighter is our burden of ministry that cannot fail! For the time of grace has come in Jesus Christ and the harvest is ripe. God is delighted to send His people to proclaim the message of good news, not of condemnation. So then, let us serve our God with gratitude. Let our thanksgiving be not just a lip service, but a genuine one, expressed in our willing and grateful service to God--until that day when we shall stand before the presence of God’s holiness and, instead of crying out “Woe is me!” cry out “Holy, holy, holy is the Lord of hosts!” and to do it without fear and trembling and claim Him as our eternal inheritance and chief delight, marveling at the beauty of His holiness and basking in His grace and love forever more!