Commentary - Isaiah 6:1-7

Bird's-eye view

Isaiah chapter 6 is one of the high water marks of Scripture. It is the account of Isaiah's commissioning as a prophet, but it is far more than a simple job description. Before God tells Isaiah what he must do, He first reveals to Isaiah who He is. True ministry, and true worship for that matter, always begins with a right vision of God. This chapter follows a divine pattern that is essential for us to grasp: a vision of God's absolute holiness, a resulting conviction of man's utter sinfulness, a gracious provision of atonement from God, and only then a commission to serve. Modern evangelicalism frequently tries to rush to the commission without the preceding stages, and the results are predictably shallow and feckless.

The scene is set against a backdrop of national crisis, the death of a long and prosperous king. But God uses this moment of earthly instability to reveal who is truly on the throne. Isaiah is given a terrifying and glorious glimpse into the heavenly throne room, the control room of the universe. What he sees there undoes him, and what God does for him remakes him. This is the foundation of all true service to God: to be undone by His holiness and remade by His grace.

Outline

Context In Isaiah

Isaiah's prophetic ministry spanned the reigns of four kings of Judah: Uzziah, Jotham, Ahaz, and Hezekiah. This chapter is explicitly dated to the year of King Uzziah's death, around 740 B.C. Uzziah's reign was long, fifty-two years, and largely prosperous. His death would have created a significant sense of instability and uncertainty in the nation. It is precisely at this moment, when the earthly throne is empty and the nation's future is in question, that God pulls back the curtain to show Isaiah, and us, who is perpetually and immovably on the throne of the cosmos. The vision serves as the anchor for all the prophecies of judgment and hope that will follow. No matter how chaotic things appear on the ground in Jerusalem, the ultimate reality is the serene and absolute sovereignty of Yahweh of hosts.

Key Issues

Commentary

Isaiah 6:1

In the year of King Uzziah’s death I saw the Lord sitting on a throne, high and lifted up, with the train of His robe filling the temple.

The timing is everything. Uzziah had been king for over half a century. For most people alive, he was the only king they had ever known. And now he was dead. When the symbols of earthly power and stability are removed, it is a mercy when God shows us what is truly stable. The throne of Judah might be vacant, but the throne of Heaven is not. God is never between kings. Isaiah's vision is not a comfort offered in a vacuum; it is a direct answer to the unspoken national fear: "Who is in charge now?" The answer thunders back: the same one who has always been in charge.

Isaiah saw the Lord. This was no mere dream or intellectual concept. This was a theophany, a direct seeing. To see the Lord is a terrifying thing for a sinful man, as Isaiah will soon discover. The Lord is seen sitting on a throne, the posture of a reigning, judging king. He is not pacing nervously. He is seated, in complete control. The throne is high and lifted up, signifying His transcendence, His utter "otherness." He is not simply a bigger version of Uzziah; He is in another category altogether. The train of His robe filling the temple speaks of a majesty so immense it cannot be contained. His glory overflows the capacity of the holiest place on earth to hold it.

Isaiah 6:2

Seraphim stood above Him, each having six wings: with two he covered his face, and with two he covered his feet, and with two he flew.

Around this majestic throne are attendants called Seraphim, which means "burning ones." These are fiery, glorious creatures, but their posture is what is most instructive. They are standing, which is the stance of servants ready to act. And notice the economy of their wings. They have six, and two-thirds of them are dedicated to reverence. With two wings they cover their faces, because they dare not gaze directly upon the unshielded holiness of God. This is creaturely humility in the presence of the Creator. With two they cover their feet, a gesture of modesty and reverence. Only with the remaining two do they fly, engaged in active service. This is the proper ratio for all worship and service. Our activity for God must be exceeded by our reverence before God. Much of our modern church activity is all flight and no covering.

Isaiah 6:3

And one called out to another and said, “Holy, Holy, Holy, is Yahweh of hosts; The whole earth is full of His glory.”

This is the song of heaven, the Trisagion. They do not cry out that He is "Love, Love, Love" or "Mercy, Mercy, Mercy," though He is both of those things. The defining, central attribute of God, the one that governs all the others, is His holiness. Holiness means His separateness, His uniqueness, His transcendent purity. The threefold repetition is the Hebrew way of expressing the absolute superlative. He is not just holy, or very holy. He is holy to the third degree, the essence of holiness itself. Early church fathers rightly saw in this a hint of the Trinity, one God in three persons.

He is Yahweh of hosts, the commander of the armies of heaven. This is a martial title. The one who is utterly holy is also utterly powerful. And then comes the great declaration that is the foundation of all Christian optimism about the future: The whole earth is full of His glory. This is not a wish, but a statement of fact. From the vantage point of heaven, the earth is already filled with His glory. Our task on earth is not to create that glory, but to recognize it and declare it. History is the story of God's glory, currently veiled by our sin, being unveiled until every eye shall see it.

Isaiah 6:4

And the foundations of the thresholds shook at the voice of him who called out, while the house of God was filling with smoke.

The worship of heaven is not a sterile, quiet affair. It has physical, tangible effects. The very voice of one of these seraphim is enough to shake the foundations of the temple. This is potent praise. The created order itself trembles in response to the declaration of God's holiness. The house was then filling with smoke, a common biblical symbol of the manifest presence and glory of God. We see it at Sinai (Ex. 19:18) and at the dedication of Solomon's temple (1 Kings 8:10-11). It is the glory-cloud, the Shekinah, and it signifies a presence so pure and powerful that it obscures direct sight while confirming divine reality.

Isaiah 6:5

Then I said, “Woe is me, for I am ruined! For I am a man of unclean lips, And I live among a people of unclean lips; For my eyes have seen the King, Yahweh of hosts.”

Here is the non-negotiable first step for any sinner who truly encounters God. It is not, "Wow, what an experience!" or "I feel so affirmed." It is "Woe is me!" Isaiah comes completely unglued. The word for ruined means to be undone, to be disintegrated. In the presence of absolute holiness, his own sinfulness becomes glaringly, crushingly apparent. He does not vaguely confess to being a sinner. He is specific. "I am a man of unclean lips." As a prophet, his mouth was his tool of the trade. He identifies his sin at the very point of his calling. Our mouths are fountains that reveal the state of our hearts, and Isaiah's mouth, by his own admission, has been polluted.

He also identifies with his people: "I live among a people of unclean lips." This is not finger-pointing. It is a humble confession of solidarity in sin. He is not a righteous man coming to condemn a sinful nation; he is a sinful man who is part of a sinful nation. And the reason for this crisis is clear: "For my eyes have seen the King, Yahweh of hosts." A true vision of the King always produces a true vision of oneself. You cannot see His holiness without seeing your own filth.

Isaiah 6:6-7

Then one of the seraphim flew to me with a burning coal in his hand, which he had taken from the altar with tongs. And he touched my mouth with it and said, “Behold, this has touched your lips; and your iniquity is taken away, and your sin is atoned for.”

Just as Isaiah is at the point of utter despair, grace intervenes. God does not leave him in his "woe." He takes the initiative. A seraph flies to him, but the instrument of cleansing is what is crucial. It is a burning coal taken from the altar. The altar was the place of sacrifice, the place of atonement. This is not some generic therapy; this is a specifically substitutionary cleansing. The fire that should have consumed the sinner is instead brought from the place of sacrifice to purify him. This is a magnificent Old Testament portrait of the gospel of Jesus Christ. Our cleansing comes from the cross, the ultimate altar where the Lamb of God was sacrificed.

The seraph touches Isaiah's mouth, applying the remedy directly to the confessed point of sin. The fire does not destroy him; it purges him. And then the glorious words of absolution are spoken: "your iniquity is taken away, and your sin is atoned for." This is objective, declarative grace. His sin is not overlooked; it is dealt with, covered, paid for. Only a man who has been undone by his sin and cleansed by the blood of the altar is fit to speak for a holy God.

Application

The pattern in this chapter is the unchanging pattern of our relationship with God. We must begin with worship, with seeing God for who He is in His majestic holiness. Our worship services should be ordered in such a way as to facilitate this vision. When we see Him, we will inevitably see ourselves and our sin. This should lead us to honest, specific confession, not despair. We must flee to the altar, to the finished work of Jesus Christ, where the burning coal of His sacrifice is sufficient to atone for all our unclean lips, and hearts, and hands.

Only after we have been broken and remade by this gospel sequence are we ready to hear God's call to service. We cannot effectively say "Here am I, send me" until we have first said "Woe is me." A church that does not tremble before the holiness of God will not be a church that speaks with the authority of God. A Christian who has not been undone by his own sin will be of little use in proclaiming the grace that overcomes sin. Let us therefore ask God to grant us a fresh vision of the King, high and lifted up, that we might be undone, cleansed, and sent.