Sometime or another, we’ve all been caught in a lie. It’s not a fun experience. You dishonesty is exposed. You stand convicted. What will the other person say or do
now? Will they ever trust you again? Do you try to double down and grow the lie
with more deceit? Or do you fess up and humbly ask for forgiveness?
But what if it’s not just a white lie that snagged you, but
a big one, a whopper? And what if it’s
not just another person that is calling you out, but a judge? In fact, what if it’s the heavenly judge of
all, the one who sits on the throne? The
one from whom there is no hiding, who cannot be fooled, who knows our every
darkest, deepest sin, and by rights could call us to account.
That’s where Isaiah found himself in his vision of Yahweh,
the Lord. Sure it was an awesome sight –
God himself enthroned over the temple, his throne, his robe filling up the
whole building with its train. The
angels flitting about and singing a thunderous song that shook the foundations
of this great building. You might think
Isaiah would leap for joy to see such a sight.
But that is not his reaction.
He realizes this is his doom. For as much as God is, as the angels sing,
“holy, holy, holy”, Isaiah is “sinful, sinful, sinful.” He immediately becomes acutely aware of his
own sin, his own unworthiness, especially to stand in the presence of Yahweh,
that his eyes have beheld such a sight.
And dread seizes him.
“I am a man of unclean lips, and I live in the midst of a
people of unclean lips.” Isaiah is
caught in his lie, and it’s a big one.
There’s no talking your way out of this one. Isaiah knew it well.
We can sympathize. At
least, we should. For we too are people
of unclean lips. From the same mouth
pour blessings and curses, and this should not be! From our lips come all sorts of lies and
deceits, disparaging of neighbor and prideful boasting. We do not speak well of our neighbor as we
should. We do not defend his reputation
as we ought. We find countless and
creative ways to sin with our lips, our words, and our failures to speak as we
ought.
Unclean lips. That’s
just scratching the surface. Our whole
lives are a lie. We live day to day as
if we aren’t unclean – putting on a show for ourselves and others that
everything is just fine and we’ve got it all together and life is good. Sometimes the truth peeks through here and
there. But Isaiah’s vision tears back
the curtain, rips off the façade, and lays bare the truth for him – and for us
– we’re doomed. Woe is me! Woe is you, too, fellow sinner. Woe is us all.
One thing Isaiah’s lips do get right, however, is to confess
this miserable situation. He rightly
speaks when he admits and owns his uncleanness.
As do we. Confessing our sins is
one of the best things we can do with these unclean lips. A bit of honesty about ourselves prompted and
moved by the Holy Spirit, who convicts our unclean hearts by his law. Then, when we are brought low, when faced
with the stark reality of it, how dire our sinful situation is, we are ready
for cleansing, for grace, for restoration, for atonement.
As holy, holy, holy as he is, God is also merciful,
merciful, merciful. He doesn’t let
Isaiah languish long in his guilt, but he sends forth one of these holy angels
to perform an important task. A glowing
coal from the altar, the place of sacrifice, is taken and touched to Isaiah’s
lips. And the angel speaks the good
news: “This has touched your lips. You sin is atoned for.” The thunderous voice that shook the doorposts
now speaks a kind and gentle word of pardon.
And it came so swiftly, so fully, and so freely. God is merciful.
That altar is the place of sacrifice, and it is a shadow
itself of the great sacrifice to come.
The Lord who sits enthroned above the temple would himself come down and
assume our human flesh, take on our unclean lips and hands and hearts, and
carry them with all their sin and guilt to his cross. There, at the cross, atonement is made for
Isaiah, for all his people, and for all people of unclean lips, even those here
today. The fire of God’s wrath consumes
Christ, and not us. The woe that was us,
he faces in our place. The just sentence
of death that should have been upon us, falls upon him, and he bears it
graciously.
In many and various ways God spoke to our fathers of
old. In burning bush and fiery pillar,
in cloud and smoke and awe. In dreams
and visions, like this one seen by Isaiah.
But now in these last days he has spoken to us by his Son. Jesus has come. And we have his word. We have preachers who bring that good news to
us, much as the angel did for Isaiah.
But we have even better.
In the vision, God forgave Isaiah with the glowing hot coal
that touched his lips. But in these last
days, he forgives us also by means of the Sacrament. Here, he touches our lips with bread and wine
that deliver us Christ’s body and blood, and our sin is atoned for. Here, the holy, holy, holy One makes us holy
by the forgiveness of our sins. Here the “woe is me” becomes, “how greatly
blessed I am!”
But that’s not the end of the story, either. Isaiah, now forgiven and at peace, is given
an opportunity to serve. “Whom shall I
send?” God asks, and Isaiah responds in faith, “Here am I! Send me.” No more is he wallowing in woe,
paralyzed by fear of judgment. The
forgiveness of God empowers and frees us to serve.
It wasn’t going to be a picnic. God was sending Isaiah as a prophet to a
people unwilling to listen. But just as
Isaiah couldn’t have cleansed himself, but God provided for him, so does he
also equip people for service that they couldn’t otherwise imagine they could
do.
See also our Gospel reading, where Jesus similarly calls his
disciples to leave their nets behind and become “fishers of men.” Surely they had no idea what was to
come. But they trusted the one who
called them, and he was faithful.
God has forgiven you, in Christ. Your sin is atoned for. And you, too, are called to serve. You may not be called to the divinely
instituted office of the public ministry.
But you may be called to serve as father or mother, wife or husband, son
or daughter, teacher or student, employee or employer, citizen or friend.
Wherever God has placed you, whomever he has placed in your
care, however he has called you to serve, do so in the courage and confidence
of a Christian. Your lips and hands and
hearts are clean in Jesus Christ, the once-and-for-all sacrifice. When God comes calling, “whom shall I send?”,
join your voice to Isaiah’s and cry, “Here am I! Send me!”
In Jesus’ Name, Amen.
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