The Rev. Ann R. Lougee

  June 11, 2006

  A Magnificent Vision

  Isaiah 6:1-8

 
 
Isaiah was probably some sort of functionary in the Jerusalem temple.  That's where his vision takes place, when he is awed by realization of the immensity and holiness of God.
 
The word "holy" has to do with the quality of otherness, that is, of being other than ourselves, other than what we are accustomed to seeing or experiencing in our everyday, mortal lives.  So in this fantastical vision, Isaiah has a vivid experience of God's being far beyond our ordinary, limited perceptions.
 
On the other hand, paradoxically, his vision shows him a God who, while other, yet is in some way present to him.  Isaiah is experiencing God as, in Marcus Borg's words, here and yet more than here.
 
Isaiah experiences this God that is both here and more than here, calling him to go and warn his compatriots that their social injustice and lack of true piety is sinful and will cause their downfall if not corrected.  That is, Isaiah feels God calling him to be a prophet.
 
Now, a prophet is popularly and incorrectly thought of as a psychic, a predictor of the future.  But in the Bible, a prophet is one who interprets the present, who reads the signs of the times.  A prophet critiques the way things are to show the disparity between "the world" as it is and what it could be under God's reign of justice and peace.
 
Rather than simply condemning those to whom their message is addressed, however, prophets in scripture are often called to identify with the people to whom God has sent them, and sometimes to intercede for, or even to suffer, on behalf of them -- think of Moses, think of Jeremiah, think of Jesus.
 
The prophet's job is also to point out where, when, and how God is at work in the world.  For a prophetic word consists, first of all, in proclaiming God's gracious acts, by which people are inspired to love.  The prophet's central call is always to love and trust God, even when he or she is being rejected by those they are trying to serve.
 
Being a prophet means speaking the truth in love, no matter how hard it may be.  Being a prophet means living with and loving the folks to whom you have to say hard things.
 
No wonder that Isaiah, like Moses and others, when called by God, said, in effect,  "If it weren't for the honor of the thing, I'd just as soon say no, thank you very much."  Most sensible folks would feel the same.
 
Isaiah in his time, like Jesus in his, went forth, not just to rant and rave, nor to soothe and stroke, but to both "pull down" and "build up."  For prophets are often called to use words as strong as acid to eat away at rotten structures, just as they are called to use words as gentle as a soft rain to bathe wounded spirits.  God's love, as a true prophet proclaims it, is as active in destroying evil as it is in producing good.
 
Prophets may be called to use words as powerful as hammers and saws to build a just social order.  They may be called to use words as delicious as wholesome food to grow a community of love and care which would reflect to each member the compassionate care which God has for humankind.
 
The Hebrew word dabar that means word also means action.  Likewise, the Greek word logos that our Bibles translate as "word" also means the way things really work, the underlying structure of reality, the acts and signs by which we detect God's presence.
 
So when we think of a prophet's words, we are also thinking of actions.  St. Francis of Assisi is reputed to have said, "Preach the gospel at all times; when necessary, use words.
 
The narrative of Isaiah's call by God describes, not some impersonal decree or memo, but a very personal, intimate sense of the prophet's mouth being prepared by divine means.  Most of us rationalist-type Protestants are more comfortable with abstract thoughts than with the description of God speaking to and acting on a person.  We don't trust most depictions of God engaging in dialogues with human beings.
 
Our Jewish friends tend to be much more comfortable with these dialogues.   Jewish literature contains many of them, from Abraham, Moses and others in the Old Testament, to Tevye in "Fiddler on the Roof" talking to God, complaining to God, shaking his fist skyward at God.
 
One of my favorite contemporary stories of such a personal exchange between a person and God concerns a grandmother.  She was of Jewish origin but had not been active in her faith for years and considered herself an agnostic.
 
One day, she took her little grandson to the beach and, as she was watching him at play with his sandcastles, a huge wave suddenly surged up onto the sand and swept the child out to sea.  Horrified, she cried out,  "O God, if you're there, please save my grandson!"
 
Just as all of us tend to do when we feel desperate, she then tried bargaining with God.  "If you just bring him back," she pleaded, " I'll go to synagogue every week, I'll get active in Hadassah, in the women's group, in the men's group, whatever you want.  Just, please, bring my grandson back!"
 
Then, just as suddenly as the wave had appeared and swept the boy away, another wave suddenly deposited him at her feet on the sand.  Sweeping the child up in her arms, she looked skyward and said,  "He had a hat, you know."
 
It's hard for us rationalists to identify with such familiarity and self-possession in relating to God, isn't it?  It's hard for us to relate to Bible stories like the call of God to Isaiah when we don't think we have such experiences.
 
 
But we do have experiences of God speaking to us.  That's God that speaks in the comfort and peace that can suddenly come to us in the midst of grief or pain or confusion, in the compassion and sympathy that stirs in our hearts at the suffering of others, and in the passion that rises in our souls when we witness injustice, oppression, cruelty, and mean-spiritedness,.
 
Then, as people of God, we too are called to give utterance to prophetic words.  We are called, not to tell people where to get off, but, with words as tough as steel and deeds as tender as a tearful embrace, to tell them that God loves them and that God's love can make a difference.
 
We are called to tell one another about human needs and how we must address them.  We are called to speak loud and clear about injustice and cruelty where we see them, and to find ways to help their victims.
 
We may very understandably shrink at the thought of such courage and responsibility.  But we do well to trust that divine power can touch our hearts and lips and put words in our mouths.  You and I are called, both to listen to such words and to speak them, to let them do their work in us and in others.  Otherwise, why would we bother being part of the church, why would we believe that the church matters?
 
Granted, our calls don't tend to be as dramatic as Isaiah's.  Usually, for us, a call, in fact, is simply what is "called for" in any situation.  A long-time favorite author of mine, Frederick Buechner, has written words to the effect that the place to which God calls you is the place where the world's great need and your deep joy meet.
 
Just to see how we might become more aware of such calls, I thought we might try a little experiment.  This will suggest possible steps we might take to prepare ourselves to hear God's call, with a brief practice at it.
 
So think about some decision you're facing in your life  in your work, in your family, in the congregation, in the community or the wider world, wherever you have been feeling a question mark.  It may have to do with whether or not to take on a new obligation, enter into some new responsibility, or become part of a new group.
 
It may have to do with how to be the best stewards of our time or money.  It may have to do with your part in a relationship.  There's hardly a time in our lives when we don't have some such question mark, is there?
 
Now, if you're comfortable doing it,  close your eyes and envision the setting of your question mark.  What are the forces at work here?
 
What are your feelings and thoughts in response to them?   Just be there with those thoughts and feelings for a few moments.
 
Now imagine possible actions you might take.  Ask the Spirit, God's presence with us, to show you what may be called for, letting possible actions just bubble up in your mind.  Let yourself be open to God's guidance, maybe mentally repeating with each breath a simple prayer phrase like "Here am I."
 
Now review the possibilities that have emerged in your imagination.  Seek the one that seems closest to the Spirit of Christ.  Does it address a need outside of yourself?  Is there a joy to be found in it for you?   That may be your answer then.
 
You may have to continue this later in a time of quiet reflection, or an answer may already feel sure to you.  But when an answer comes, and if you choose to act on it, you might end your prayer with, "Send me."  Try following this method a few times to see if it doesn't help you to discern what it is that God would have you do.
 
We Christians are called to follow Jesus, continuing his work, as members of the body of the living Christ, the church.  We are called to dare to listen and hear, to dare to speak and act, to dare to believe that God can create something new and fresh and lovely, in and among us and in the world, in Jesus' name, for Christ's sake.
 
May it be so.  Amen.