“A word that no one wants to hear”
Ouch! You have to feel for Isaiah, having that hot coal touched to his lips like that. I suppose he regretted not designating a less-sensitive area of the body, perhaps saying instead “I am a man with an unclean . . . left elbow.” Regardless, to me this is one of those passages in scripture that shocks one to attention . . . though perhaps not so much as when Zipporah performs a spur-of-the-moment circumcision on her grown son with a piece of flint that I hope was at least very sharp. Thankfully, most modern-day prophets don’t have to endure a rite of passage like Isaiah’s when they are called, though you could argue that the Presbyterian ordination process is an attempt to approximate the experience, albeit over a longer duration of time.
Isaiah’s vision in the temple occurred the year King Uzziah died. King Uzziah had ruled Judah for 52 years, and the scripture suggests that during that time, the people had deviated from their faith, become arrogant, and allowed injustice to develop in their midst. As a result, a reckoning was on the horizon. As Bible scholar John Collins puts it, “Judah is being set up for punishment. The mission of the prophet only increases the guilt, as now there is no excuse.” (Collins, 339)
Thus Isaiah finds himself confronted with the Lord, Adonai, seated on a high and lofty throne. Just as the temple in Jerusalem in 742 BCE would have been filled with thick smoke from the incense burners, the robes of YHWH billowed throughout the space. Just as the lamps on the menorahs would have been visible burning through the smoke, seraphim — winged cobras — stood by. These attendants were not there to protect the Lord, however, as was common among such sentinels of other faiths at that time; this God has no need of the protection that would typically be offered by such creatures. Indeed, in the presence of such glory, each of them uses four wings to cover its face and legs. (Sweeney, loc. 22110; Kim, 53)
This is an intimidating scene, and it was a popular belief at the time that one could not safely look upon the Lord. Isaiah considers himself unworthy, and states as much. As Collins writes, “Isaiah confesses that he is a man of unclean lips, living among an unclean people, and so he is unworthy to see the Lord. It is not apparent that Isaiah is guilty of any specific violation. Rather, the point is that any human being is impure in relation to God. . . . Isaiah is purified, but at a cost. . . . The implication is that the human condition can only be purified by the painful and radical remedy of burning. This will have implications for the fate of the people of Judah.” (Collins, 339)
Isaiah’s sin is purged. His guilt has departed. He is now prepared to “transmit divine words.” (Kim, 55) So when the Lord asks who should be sent, Isaiah responds to the call, enthusiastically saying “Here am I; send me!”
Although considering what has just happened to him, I suspect it sounded more like “Ow ow ow. Ow ow!”
My path to ministry did not begin as drastically as Isaiah’s, though not long before my call to seminary I did hit my head really hard on a toilet paper dispenser. Nonetheless, the job description for a prophet today includes some of the same challenges it would have 2,766 years ago. People often aren’t receptive to the message of the prophet. It might make them feel uncomfortable, or realize things about their reality they’d prefer to keep out of view.
We live in a society that champions self-reliance rather than faith, encourages self-promotion over humility, and preaches individual wealth accumulation at the expense of justice. The well-being of future generations is being exchanged for policies and practices that enrich today’s affluent. People with car elevators and multiple homes have a lower tax burden than those making minimum wage. The climate emergency worsens by the day, but fossil fuel companies still enjoy more federal subsidies than those in any other industry.
Thus we have some questions we need to ask ourselves: Do God’s people still have a role to play in the pursuit of justice? Will we allow the leaders of our faith communities to respond to the call to prophesy? Are we willing to stand up to the powers and principalities of our day, even if it means offending the most influential among us, even if it means being unpleasant?
In some faith communities, the answer to those questions isn’t always affirmative. A pastor friend of mine who is involved in climate justice — not a Presbyterian, mind you — was recently asked by leadership at his church to stop wearing his clerical collar when participating in demonstrations. Apparently, they didn’t want his public witness to be associated with their congregation.
The Rev. Rachel Henderlite read the following as part of her charge during the ordination of Louise Farrior:
In ordaining you to ministry the church offers you nothing except an opportunity to say a word that no one wants to hear, not even the church itself. You will have for the world’s drastic problems a solution even more drastic than the problems themselves. But even though the world is sick of pablum and has no use for soothing, empty words, even though it has turned away in disgust from the smoothness of the church, it is no readier to hear the church’s real message. (Henderlite)
Her words bear relevance for today, but Henderlite, the first woman ordained to the southern branch of the Presbyterian Church (PCUS), wrote them in 1967. So even during what some might consider the good old days of the Christian church in the United States, the work of the prophet was challenging.
I guess that’s comparable to the road before Isaiah. Immediately after he responds to the Lord’s request to be sent, he is told to
‘Make the mind of this people dull,
and stop their ears,
and shut their eyes,
so that they may not look with their eyes,
and listen with their ears,
and comprehend with their minds,
and turn and be healed.’Then I said, ‘How long, O Lord?’ And he said:
‘Until cities lie waste
without inhabitant,
and houses without people,
and the land is utterly desolate;
until the LORD sends everyone far away,
and vast is the emptiness in the midst of the land.’
Like so many of the most important jobs in the world, the role of the prophet is often not rewarding. People usually don’t want to hear what you have to say, even if they recognize it as truth. As Collins writes about the path Isaiah chose, “the mission was supposed to fail. Failure was part of the commission.” (Collins, 339)
Nonetheless, the Lord needed the mission to happen.
Speaking of sharing messages, today’s gospel reading is a theological discussion from early in the book of John. And you might think Jesus had Isaiah in mind when speaking to Nicodemus, because some of the things he said could be regarded as incomprehensible and not understandable. You need to be born from above. You must be born of water and Spirit. God sent his son to save the world. “The wind blows where it chooses, and you hear the sound of it, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes.” Keep in mind that at this point in John’s gospel, and I say this with all due respect, Jesus hasn’t done much. He’s called some disciples, turned water to wine, cleansed the temple, and performed some unelaborated-upon signs in Jerusalem. He’s not done much teaching, though, so perhaps Nicodemus can be forgiven for having trouble following along.
For instance, what does it mean to be born of water and Spirit? Does that refer to a “sequential process [of] physical and spiritual birth,” (Holmes, 147) just a spiritual rebirth, baptism, or something else? Water is frequently cited as a connection to physical birth, but often symbolizes the Spirit in Hebrew scripture and the Dead Sea Scrolls. (Holmes, 147) As Bible scholar Laura Holmes writes, “Nicodemus would not have understood this at all. Few Jewish texts claimed that Jews needed a spiritual rebirth. Such a rebirth, sometimes paired with a baptism-like immersion in water, was typically reserved for Gentile converts.” (Holmes, 148–149)
Nicodemus is no longer an active participant in the conversation following his question, “How can these things be?” The “you” Jesus is addressing from that point is a plural “you all,” perhaps directed at the group of Pharisees Nicodemus represented, or perhaps more widely to any reader of these words. Holmes suggests that at this point the voice of Jesus merges with the gospel writer’s. (Holmes, 152) What had been a nighttime conversation between two individuals becomes a theology classroom decades later, with the instructor reflecting on the meaning of the entirety of Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection.
We’re not entirely sure how this seemingly private discussion between Nicodemus and Jesus made its way into John’s gospel. Did Jesus share the story with the author of John? Did Nicodemus? Nicodemus makes two other appearances in John’s gospel, and by the time of Jesus’ death he was enough of a fan to contribute a hundred pounds of myrrh and aloes to his burial. Sadly, though, we don’t know how the story of Nicodemus continued after that point. Did he feel called to continue the mission of Jesus on earth? Did he associate further with the first generation of Christians? Or did he remain on the periphery of that community, interested in the philosophy and intrigued by Jesus, but never to the point that he significantly altered the course of his life?
One of the writings that emerged from the Protestant Reformation was the Second Helvetic Confession, written in 1561. One of the many concepts it contains regards “the priesthood of all believers.” (Second Helvetic Confession, 5.153) It recognizes that, while those called to ordained ministry have specific areas of responsibility, we all have roles to play in realizing the Kin-dom of God. I believe this emphasis is becoming increasingly important as the church evolves in our country.
Questioning authority and the mistrust of institutions is widespread, and while those practices challenge organized religion, that’s not all bad. Keep in mind, it was the questioning of authority and mistrust of an institution that brought about the Protestant Reformation in the first place. Younger generations recognize that church buildings are no longer their only good option for hearing an educated person speak, experiencing great music performed, serving their neighbors, or exploring spirituality in a meaningful fashion.
During the past few years, I’ve had many conversations with folks who have left the church or never attended in the first place. I’ve found that they are more interested in community than focusing on the pastor, or a “sage on the stage.” Many like the idea of gathering in public spaces, whether because church buildings represent hurt to them or because they like the idea of the church being out in the world. Many are interested in the Bible, not as an instrument for ending conversations but as a means to begin conversations. They’re not as interested in hearing creeds and faith statements as they are in simply faithing together.
Earlier I read a portion of the charge written by Rev. Henderlite. I’d like to continue that now:
You are not called to build a church, but to build a world. You are not called to entice [people] into the church. You are called to drive [people] from the church into the world, which God loves. Thus you are called to join with all who now become your fellow ministers in trying to find what the gospel means in a day like ours so that you and the [people] you serve may learn to conduct your daily affairs so as to bring justice and hope to your fellow [people].
It is an awful thing to have God lay [God’s] hand upon you. It is blessed only in that you have the assurance of [God’s] presence and [God’s] victory. (Henderlite)
Anyone can feel the hand of God upon them, or feel the wind of the Spirit nudging them in a new direction. You don’t need to own a clerical collar to receive a call to prophesy. You don’t need a Master’s of Divinity to lead a Bible study. Our faith has a long history of having its most notable accomplishments performed by people who were simply inspired to serve.
Sisters, brothers, siblings in Christ: Be open to the Spirit’s movement. Allow yourself the opportunity to hear. You never know when the question might be asked in your presence: “Whom shall I send, and who will go for us?”
Thanks be to God.
Amen.
Works Referenced
Ben Zvi, Ehud. “Amos.” In The Jewish Study Bible: Second Edition, edited by Adele Berlin and Marc Zvi Brettler. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2014.
Collins, John J. Introduction to the Hebrew Bible: Third Edition. Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2018, Kindle edition.
Henderlite, Rachel. “Charge by Rachel Henderlite to Louise H. Farrior on her Ordination.” July 30, 1967.
Holmes, Laura Sweat and George Lyons. John 1–12: A Commentary in the Western Tradition (New Beacon Bible Commentary). Kansas City, Missouri: Beacon Hill Press, 2020, Kindle edition.
Kim, Hyun Chul Paul. Reading Isaiah: A Literary and Theological Commentary. Macon, Georgia: Smyth & Helwys, 2010. Kindle edition.
Office of the General Assembly of the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.). “The Second Helvetic Confession.” The Constitution of the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.), Part I: Book of Confessions. Louisville, Kentucky: Office of the General Assembly, 2016.
“Rachel Henderlite.” Wikipedia, accessed May 21, 2024. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rachel_Henderlite
Reinhartz, Adele. “John.” In Fortress Commentary on the Bible: The Old Testament and Apocrypha, edited by Gale A. Yee, Hugh R. Page, Jr., Matthew J. M. Coomber. Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2014. Kindle edition.
Sweeney, Marvin A. “Isaiah 1–39.” In Fortress Commentary on the Bible: The Old Testament and Apocrypha, edited by Gale A. Yee, Hugh R. Page, Jr., Matthew J. M. Coomber. Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2014. Kindle edition.
