Isaiah 6:1-8

This passage in Isaiah 6 is typically identified as a “call narrative,” in which Isaiah tells the story of how he was called by God to be a prophet to the people of Judah. In the prophetic literature, call narratives are common and often give legitimacy to the prophet and the prophet’s messages.

But Isaiah’s call narrative is a bit out of the ordinary. Compared to Jeremiah and Ezekiel, this narrative occurs at a rather strange place in the book of Isaiah. Call narratives often come early on in the book to introduce the prophet and present the prophet’s authority and credibility. Instead, Isaiah opens his book with five chapters that dramatically outline the obscene evil and injustice of Judah and its rulers. In chapter 1, Judah is compared to Sodom and Gomorrah because they do not “seek justice, rescue the oppressed, defend the orphan, plead for the widow” (Isa 1.17, NRSV).

Isaiah’s call narrative also stands out because of its dramatic imagery and detailed vision. We can easily imagine the scene as Isaiah encountered it - an enormous throne that connects heaven and earth, a massive robe hem filling the Temple, flying creatures singing Yahweh’s praises.

While it’s easy to get caught up in the visual masterpiece of Yahweh’s throne room, Isaiah begins this story by contextualizing it: “in the year that King Uzziah died” (v.1).

The Judahites listening to Isaiah’s message would have remembered exactly what year that was. They had spent over 50 years under Uzziah’s prosperous reign, enjoying security, stability, and growth. Uzziah’s political skills with foreign superpowers, like Assyria, led to decades of peace in Judah. Uzziah’s success as king, administrator, and commander-in-chief of the army made him ruler over the largest realm of Judah since the division from the North.

But, like history tells us, with success and power pride inevitably follows. Uzziah puts trust in himself as the highest authority and attempts to take on the role of priest by burning incense in the Temple. Power, like the drug it is, can never be enough. As a result, Uzziah is struck with leprosy and spends his last years exiled and in agony. The year that King Uzziah died was a year of panic and uncertainty. And Uzziah’s predecessors, including the infamous Ahaz, were not as skilled in negotiating with empires. Eventually, no amount of political maneuvering would protect Judah from invading superpowers.

But perhaps Uzziah’s death, which led to upheaval and panic and vulnerability for the tiny coastal nation, may actually be the perfect opportunity for the King of the Universe to make an appearance.

Isaiah’s vision is that of a royal court scene. Yahweh, the King, is in his rightful place on the throne, adorned in his royal robe, and his attendants, the seraphim, are faithfully serving him. However, this scene does not take place in the heavenly realm, where Yahweh’s royal court is supposed to be. Instead the setting is a temple, in the city of Jerusalem, in the nation of Judah, along the Mediterranean Sea, on the planet Earth. The “high and lofty” shows up in the “humble and lowly.”

Just in case the location was unclear the seraphs spell it out:

“The whole earth is full of [Yahweh’s] glory” (v.3).

God’s presence, filled to the brim, busting at the seams, shows up here.

It’s hard to imagine Isaiah responding in any other way besides, “Woe is me!” The contrast between Judah’s atrocious behavior and Yahweh’s glorious holiness is so obvious it’s ridiculous. “Are you sure you want to show up here, God? Do you have the right location? There is no way this place can contain you. There is no way it can stand in the power of your holiness which burns brighter than the sun. You can’t come that close to us- we won’t survive it. We don’t deserve it. Maybe try a different planet.”

But somehow Isaiah flies too close to the sun and lives. A seraph takes a coal burning on the altar, the home to sacrifices that allow earthlings to venture into the Holy of Holies, catching a glimpse of God’s presence. This coal makes contact with Isaiah’s mouth and should send him into agonizing pain; the unholy can’t exist in contact with the holy. But something strange happens instead. Isaiah, who’s lucky to have survived this long and with both lips intact, is made holy. One touch and his very nature is transformed. How are the boundaries of heaven and earth, holy and unholy, so easily defied?

Because Yahweh is the King of the Universe. Even though Uzziah is dead and the Assyrian king is on the horizon, and superpowers will always exist on this planet, Yahweh shows up, fills the earth with His glory, laying claim to every inch of this space, and makes contact with a human being.

What a gift in the midst of political, social, cultural, and religious turmoil. What reassurance to know that even though the superpowers seem invincible, Yahweh is King of the Universe. What transformation takes place when we find ourselves in the presence of that King. What glorious beauty to see our King fill the earth.

In our sermons/teachings for this week, let’s let Isaiah speak with his holy-charred-coal burned lips. Let us enter into Isaiah’s vision, finding ourselves at the foot of the King of the Universe. And as we encounter that King, in His Kingdom which reigns through the whole earth, let us release all fears, uncertainty, and panic of the seemingly-invincible superpowers that roam freely in our world and in our lives. Let us witness the unleashing of God’s holiness on the earth, making contact with human beings. Let us then eagerly volunteer to speak and live this good news with the affirmation “Here I am, Lord!” God’s presence has arrived, filled to the brim, bursting at the seams with a holiness that re-claims what is rightfully His.