Standing on the rim of the Grand Canyon, climbing up Lookout Mountain in the Smokies, settling into your seat at the Broadway show you’ve been longing to see, walking up the path to meet a relative you didn’t know you had, Isaiah finding himself in the throne room of heaven in the presence of the Lord of creation. Awe-inspiring, terrifying, humbling, overwhelming. It’s easy to make false equivalences, but capturing something of Isaiah’s experience is not impossible for us. Observing the glories of creation can usher a person of faith into the presence of the Creator. Encountering a powerful artistic expression designed to bring us into a new way of seeing the world can be a transformative revelation akin to the new life we experience in Christ. And leaning into the relationships that can form us, with new members of the family, or deeper connections through marriage or adoption, can give us a taste of the kin-dom or beloved community that Jesus envisions so powerfully for us.
Again, let’s not assume that these experiences are the same as what Isaiah encountered in the presence of God. However, a careful reading of our text will reveal that his meeting was hardly face-to-face. Instead, the presence is “high and lifted up,” and Isaiah sees only the hem of the robe, which fills the temple. We have detailed descriptions of the beings that flew around this presence, but nothing of significance of what Isaiah actually saw of the Lord. Maybe he didn’t want to say, cautious about making an idol of his words. Or perhaps he was simply too overwhelmed to come up with ways to describe the presence before him. Or, most likely, God was careful not to reveal too much in this vision, as with Moses on the mountain when God hedged on the whole “face-to-face” thing out of protection for the frailty of humanity, we might assume.
Whatever he saw was enough to shake him to his core. “Woe is me,” he cries. Woe. There was nothing threatening being said, it seems. There was no overt action that would cause him to cower for protection. Remember, the whole burning hot coals to the lips came after this confession. There was just this … presence. Or perhaps, Presence.
Something about that Presence drove him to his knees. If it isn’t a threat, then what might it have been? Love. Forgive the cliché. But that’s what is at work here. Isaiah is overwhelmed by the love of the Creator. We normally assume that experiencing such love would bring us warm and fuzzy feelings. But the biblical witness tells us that the first experience in such an encounter is a profound feeling of unworthiness. “Woe is me,” proclaims the prophet, “for I am a man of unclean lips and yet have been given a glimpse of the glory of God.” That God would allow him into the throne room, into the temple of God’s presence, is simply too much.
But if the presence is so overwhelming, what will he do when the call is issued? This wasn’t a social call, come and visit the holy one for tea and biscuits. No, there is a reason why he is here. Vocation, the calling of the prophet. Here, preacher, pay attention. Isaiah was overwhelmed by the presence of God but daring to speak – “I am a man of unclean lips” – God’s own words to God’s own people would have destroyed him completely. That is why we need cleansing. Something had to happen so that he could move beyond the feeling of unworthiness and be able to stand and say, “Here am I, send me!”
It is one thing to be aware of the Presence in an amazing encounter or mountaintop experience, it is quite another to be guided every day by that same Presence. To become familiar with and open to God’s all-consuming Presence is a lifelong discipleship journey. Knowing and serving God are two sides of the same experience. Some start with the knowing; after some profound experience of God’s presence, they then move into a state of willingness to serve, to be sent. Others start with serving and then discover the God they are serving in the act itself, seeing God through those with whom they minister. Either way, it can be a humbling and energizing experience.