The Text: Isaiah 6
Text: Psalm 62
Sermon Text – Isaiah 55:8-9
Meditating on the character of God usually falls into particular grooves. We think about his love, how he shelters us under the shadow of his wings, how he walks up and down the vine—pruning branches here, grafting branches in there, providing support in one area, and providing cover to protect against frost. We think about his grace, that though he was rich, yet for your sake he became poor so that you, by his poverty, might become rich. We think about his mercy, how our debt piled high. Our balance sheet was covered in red. And yet he zeroes it out, hands it back to us and says, “Now you go practice this same forgiveness.” We think about his goodness. And doing that, generally leads to pondering our own badness. That God would save a wretch like me? We ponder about his glory. What does the Father look like? My mind goes to a pure unadulterated light. A light that emanates so purely from his visage, that seeing through it, to the true form from which the light transmits is impossible. We think about his peace, and we imagine tranquil scenes of still waters, slight breezes, and a warm sun. We find ourselves at ease despite living in a world that’s falling down around us. He prepares a table for us in the presence of our enemies. His great patience comes to mind. How can he see the evil in this world and not stamp it out right now? Because The Lord is not slow to fulfill his promise as some count slowness, but is patient toward you, not wishing that any should perish, but that all should reach repentance.
Let’s begin with the basic concept, why should we fear God? Outside the context of the Christian experience, is man afraid of God? Not so much that we’d notice. Our culture literally parades their sexual immorality in the streets. Sam Smith and Kim Petras, dress in red and devil horns for their performance at the recent Grammy awards. Gyrating around, with demonic minions in cages, surrounded by flames. We bestow the title of “doctor” to men and women who specialize in the dismemberment of babies in the womb. The culture chides about tolerance and blind acceptance, unless of course a Christian calls for tolerance, and the answer is, what it’s always been, “Well, you’re an exception,” which basically means, we’re more than willing to be tolerant, just so long as you don’t disagree with us. But this sort of behavior is not surprising. Whether it’s the prophets of Baal on Mount Carmel, the Philistines at Aphek, or the Pharisees in Jerusalem, this is standard fare for those who have no fear of God before their eyes.
But when it comes to the followers of God, fearing God is one of the principles of Christianity 101. So to begin the discussion, I will ask a basic, child-like question. Is God scary? We will turn to the Word, but like Elijah of old, let’s douse the altar with water and fill the trough.
What realization? The realization that in this life, we can only experience God through a filter. A watered down version, if you will. We are approaching autumn. And I love the weather this time of year. There comes a point when you can find a sunny patch of ground, stand there in a t-shirt, close your eyes, spread your arms, and bask in the sun. The sun is just warm enough to keep you in this perfect equilibrium between the cool of the brisk morning and the warmth the sun provides. Most of the time we don’t think about such things, but the truth is, we experience the sun through a series of filters. For one, it’s very far away. The heat travels and cools as it makes its way through the void of space, and then hits our atmosphere where absorption, scattering, and reflections take place. Some of those molecules end their 93 million mile journey by hitting my skin’s thermoreceptors which then generate electrical signals in my nerves to tell my brain that it’s warm. If I was to be transported to such a location where I could reach out and touch the sun, I would be unable to experience what that intense heat would feel like because I would be vaporized before the signal could ever reach my brain. 8 million degrees!? Who can fathom that?
If you were forced to relinquish one of your senses, which one would it be? I venture to say the one lowest on the list for most of us would be sight. How difficult it would be even in this modern age to navigate the world without sight. How much more of a trial would it be in the first century. There are no guide dogs, there is no brail, there is nothing to aid the blind. And so the man at Bethsaida begs the Lord to touch him. Our savior, what a loving savior he is, drops everything that he’s doing, gingerly grabs the hand of the blind man and leads him out of the village. “Excuse me, coming through, make way.” He comes to a stop, away from the hustle and bustle of the market, The Lord spits on his eyes, lays hands on him and says, “Do you see anything?” And he looked up and said, “I see people, but they look like trees walking.” This is the state we find ourselves in. We hear the voice of our savior. We sense his calming presence. Our eyes are darkened, but we follow him where he leads us. We feel the strength of his hands, pressing on our maladies. We open our eyes, and see a blurry face. The resolution is low, but yet we cannot deny the change. We once were only privy to darkness. But it’s still not quite right.
Looking at God and then despising yourself, wallowing in the mire and the dust and the ashes, being ashamed of your sin, recognizing that you are man of unclean lips is either a good thing, or a bad thing. And what makes it good or bad depends on what side of the line you’re on. There is a line of repentance. On this side of the line is pre-repentance. On this side of the line is post-repentance. And it’s actually not a line at all, but rather a waterfall of blood that separates the two sides. A recognition of your guilt and shame is proper and right and good on this side of the line. And if that is where you are today, then by the power of the Holy Spirit, put your faith in Christ, dust yourself off, cross the line, and be washed in the blood of Christ. But if you are experiencing guilt and shame on this side of the line, then rebuke the devil and tell the accuser to begone because resentment and grief and sorrow belong on the other side. This is a place of rejoicing. This is a place of singing. And this is a place of righteousness, peace, and joy in the Holy Spirit. If you’re there, come over. And if you’re here, experience God to the fullest.
It is a great misfortune that many evangelicals view spiritual growth in a very inorganic way. If a little boy wants to grow to be a great warrior, he needs to do three things: eat, sleep, & breathe. Many view spiritual growth in a very mechanistic way; as if to become more godly they need to add more hardware to themselves. But true growth in godliness comes through a few acts of obedience which spring from evangelical faith: read your Bible, say your prayers, and above all, worship the Triune God.
Exodus 34:14
For thou shalt worship no other god: for the LORD, whose name is Jealous, is a jealous God.
We often associate jealousy with sinful attitude. What we often call jealousy would be better described as envy or covetousness. “Jealous” is one of God’s names. This text expands upon the the first commandment, warning Israel that as they enter Canaan they must resist the pull to enter into covenant with the nations which the Lord is going to drive out before them. The ultimate reason for this warning is that such loyalty to the pagan nations is that they will entice Israel into self-willed worship, which is another way of describing idolatry.
Israel is in covenant with God. For them to break covenant provokes His jealousy. As one theologian points out regarding the sacrificial system under Moses: “The rite speaks of God’s claims on us, whereas what we too often want […] is some kind of claim on God’s mercy, bounty, or gifts.”
The distinct aroma of the Christian’s life should be the Word of Life. We are not at liberty to live as we pleased, we have been separated unto service. You are not your own.
So in both our private & public worship we must insist upon the grooves of our habits & rituals being biblical. But this is precisely where our internalized sentimentality is rubbed the wrong way. We don’t want to conform to anything other than our own ill-defined grab bag of preferences.
But if you would serve the living God, you must leave your opinion at the door. You must put your hand over your mouth. You must bend your knee. Most Christians don’t reflect on the fact that much of the OT is a description of how God calls His people to worship Him.
Our liturgy is shaped by asking the question, how does God expect us to worship Him? When we study Scripture two things emerge in regards to how God deals with His people. First, is that God always deals with man covenantally. Meaning, this world is His and He reveals to us the terms of living in His world, and the blessings which come with living according to His ordering of things, and the curses that will come if you defy Him.
The second thing we see is that the covenant which God brings His people follows a glorious pattern of cleansing, ascending, and communing. This is seen most clearly in the ordering of the three primary levitical offerings.
The Sin Offering was followed by the Ascension Offering, and the concluding sacrifice was the Peace Offering (Cf. Lev. 9). In the Sin Offering, the caul & the kidneys were offered, and rest of the creature became a portion for the priests, but not the worshipper (Lev. 4:1-5:13). The entire creature, except for the skin, was offered entirely to the Lord in the Ascension/Burnt Offering (Lev. 1:1-17).
But after these were offered, the Peace Offering could be sacrificed. This was a shared meal: the LORD has his portion (Lev. 3:9-11), the priest/mediator received a portion (Lev. 7:31-32), and finally the worshipper partook of this offering (Lev. 7:15). A glorious pattern emerges: God calls us, cleanses us, and consecrates us in order to commune with us.
When Christ took the Passover seder and renovated it into a simple meal of bread and wine, He didn’t disconnect it from what came before. He became the final & all-encompassing sacrifice.
When we confess our sins at the beginning of our service, we are enjoying Christ as our Sin Offering, His righteousness covers our guilt. When the Word is read & preached to us, and as we lift our various thanksgivings and petitions, in Christ & by Christ our High Priest we are offered up entirely to God. The knife of His Word cuts us up, and the Holy Spirit’s fire consumes us that we might be set apart as priestly kings here upon earth.
Then we come to the Peace Offering which Christ offered on our behalf. This ensured that we might partake with the Father and the Great High Priest of that covenant meal. What Christ offered was the blood of the new testament (Mk. 14:22-24). Having been called, cleansed, consecrated, and enjoying the abundant feast of communion with God Almighty, He commissions us to go forth as ambassadors of this gracious covenant which is offered to all men everywhere.
We begin our week with this ascension into God’s presence, communing with Him and all the saints both here and in Heaven. As we proceed to our various spheres, the duty is to be governed & nourished by the Word. Our worship service is saturated with Scripture, creating grooves in our way of speaking and thinking and living. This ministry of the Word & Visible Word spurs on our daily meditation on the Word which trains us to worship the Lord with skillful understanding (Ps. 47:7)
Trying to walk in accordance with the covenant which we renew here each week, without studying what the covenant calls you to is like fasting for a week before hiking a 14er. You won’t make it far. The Word is our light & our feast.
Regular Bible reading is not just a suggestion. It is mandated by Scripture itself (Deu. 6:6-9; 2 Pt. 3:14-16; Rom. 15:4). The Scriptures fill a man out (2 Tim. 3:17). It illuminates his path (Ps. 119:11).
Every Christian esteems praying, but few pray. To continue an earlier metaphor, the prayerless Christian is like a runner trying to hold her breath while running a long distance race. But evangelical prayer has been muddied in a few ways. Jesus gives a real warning about prayer marked by mindless repetition.
Often believers develop a guilt complex about prayer. So, we can try to generate high quality prayers (“praying until we pray”). The thinking is that if you add a bit of zing & zest to your prayers they’ll get to heaven faster, and the good Lord will be obliged to answer them more quickly.
We’re also tempted to think that we need to increase the quantity of our prayers. But while it’s our duty to “pray without ceasing,” we ought to understand it rightly, not dip it into an overly sweet piety syrup. Have you ever been paralyzed with the thought that you’re not breathing enough? So then, pray the Lord’s Prayer. Read the Psalms and let the language of them permeate your own prayers. Talk to God. All the time. Tell it all to Him. Ask Him for whatsoever. Intercede for the lost, the orphan, the widow. Breath in and breath out. Pray. Pray. Pray. But don’t be weird about it.
When it comes to these basic Christian duties, we should bear in mind that when God gives commands, He is commanding our blessing. He’s the lavish God. When you look at the offerings which are required, the worshipper isn’t obliged to just give a pinch of incense. It’s entire beasts. It’s large casks of wine. It’s fragrant loaves of grain. But these offerings of worship unto God are the result of God’s abundant blessings to Israel.
He increased Abrahams flocks and herds and children. He loaded Israel with all the spoil of Egypt. He filled their barns, filled their wombs, filled their homes. He filled the tabernacle with glory. When we return to God, we find that He is already loading us up with bounty & blessings (Hos. 14). Here is a daily feast. Here is true rest in the courts of Jehovah. Here is the clear air.