Isaiah 6:1-3, 5-8 (NIV) 1 In the year that King Uzziah died, I saw the Lord seated on a throne, high and exalted, and the train of his robe filled the temple. 2 Above him were seraphs, each with six wings: With two wings they covered their faces, with two they covered their feet, and with two they were flying. 3 And they were calling to one another: "Holy, holy, holy is the LORD Almighty; the whole earth is full of his glory." 5 "Woe to me!" I cried. "I am ruined! For I am a man of unclean lips, and I live among a people of unclean lips, and my eyes have seen the King, the LORD Almighty." 6 Then one of the seraphs flew to me with a live coal in his hand, which he had taken with tongs from the altar. 7 With it he touched my mouth and said, "See, this has touched your lips; your guilt is taken away and your sin atoned for." 8 Then I heard the voice of the Lord saying, "Whom shall I send? And who will go for us?" And I said, "Here am I. Send me!
How many of us have known a time of vision and hope that turned out to be an illusion? That turned into a time of disillusionment? Shattered dreams can be tough stuff to deal with, but sometimes it is just what we need. Shattered hopes are fertile ground to experience the power and presence of God.
Two men walking and talking with a stranger on the road to Emmaus had hoped that Jesus was the one to deliver Israel, but their hopes had been shattered. Then the two men invited the stranger in, broke, bread, and recognized the stranger as the risen Christ. We can experience a more exact awareness of God when there bursts forth in our minds a thought that imposes itself upon us with the weight of God’s authority. This moment does not solve all our problems, but the moment changes us and our attitude toward the disillusionment. It is like we are putting on a pair of badly needed glasses for the first time, and the discouragement of “there is nothing I can do” is replaced by the hope of “this much I can do, because this is what God has called me to do.”
The life of quiet trust grows from our experience of God’s power and presence. We discover a peace and a pace to our life. There is calmness about what seemed to be the emergencies and most pressing issues of life. We are aware of a trustworthy voice guiding us. Our hearing is not infallible, but we are corrected when we stray. This guidance helps us to do what is right and what is appropriate in a given situation. We cannot force that kind of life down into our soul. It is the nature of sin to nurture passiveness, to make hearts and minds dull to the presence of God and to the possibility of a life of quiet trust in God.
In worship one hot, lazy August Sunday I caught a small glimpse of the vision that Isaiah was dazzled by. And I thought, “Woe is me. I am so dull; so complacent. But, here I am Lord, physically present to You, with some measure of trust that You will be present with me. I resist. I am complacent. I am dull. But, here I am, Lord. Send me. Send me with the message of quiet trust that I myself have received. Send me not only for the good of the people around me, send me for the good of my own soul. Here I am Lord."
From a sermon preached by Henry Dobbs Pope August 10, 1997
© Rhonda Hinkle Mitchell Broyles
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