The Vision that Ruins and Remakes Text: Isaiah 6:1-7
Introduction: When the Human Throne is Vacant
We live in an age that has a desperately low view of God. We have domesticated the lion of Judah and turned Him into a celestial housecat, a cosmic therapist, a divine butler. We want a God who is manageable, predictable, and above all, affirming. We want a God who fits neatly into our worship services, our political agendas, and our personal emotional needs. But the God of the Bible, the God who reveals Himself to Isaiah, is none of those things. He is untamed, terrifying, and utterly transcendent.
The vision recorded in this chapter is the necessary foundation for any true worship, any true service, and any true understanding of the gospel. It is the divine corrective to our casual, flippant, man-centered Christianity. And notice the setting. This vision comes "in the year that King Uzziah died." Uzziah had been a good king, for the most part. He reigned for 52 years, a time of stability and prosperity. His death would have created a national crisis, a moment of uncertainty and fear. The human throne was empty. The nation felt a vacuum of power. And right into that vacuum, God reveals to Isaiah who is actually on the throne. The earthly king is dead, but the celestial King is high and lifted up. When our earthly securities are shaken, it is a mercy from God, because it is an opportunity to see the King who cannot be shaken.
What Isaiah sees here is not just for him. It is for us. We must see what he saw. We must feel what he felt. We must be undone as he was undone if we are ever to be remade by the grace that he received. Without a true vision of God's holiness, the gospel becomes mere self-help, and worship becomes sentimental entertainment.
The Text
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. 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. And one called out to another and said, "Holy, Holy, Holy, is Yahweh of hosts; The whole earth is full of His glory." And the foundations of the thresholds shook at the voice of him who called out, while the house of God was filling with smoke. 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." 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.”
(Isaiah 6:1-7 LSB)
The King Enthroned (vv. 1-4)
The vision begins with the absolute sovereignty and majesty of God.
"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." (Isaiah 6:1)
God is not pacing the floor of heaven, wringing His hands over the political situation in Judah. He is sitting. He is enthroned. His rule is settled, secure, and absolute. The throne is "high and lifted up," signifying His utter transcendence. He is not one of us. He is infinitely above His creation. Yet, He is not distant. The train of His robe fills the temple. This is a picture of His majestic glory, so immense that it cannot be contained. The Apostle John tells us that Isaiah "saw His glory and spoke of Him," referring to Jesus (John 12:41). This is a vision of the pre-incarnate Christ in all His kingly authority.
Around this throne are the seraphim, the "burning ones." Their entire posture is a lesson in true worship.
"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." (Isaiah 6:2)
These magnificent, sinless beings use two-thirds of their equipment for humility. With two wings they cover their faces, because they are unworthy to look upon the unfiltered holiness of God. With two wings they cover their feet, a sign of creaturely humility and reverence. Only with the remaining two do they fly, signifying their readiness for immediate, obedient service. If sinless angels respond with such profound awe and humility, how much more should we, who are sinners?
And what do they cry? They are not crying "Love, Love, Love" or "Grace, Grace, Grace." The central, defining attribute of God that they proclaim is His holiness.
"And one called out to another and said, 'Holy, Holy, Holy, is Yahweh of hosts; The whole earth is full of His glory.'" (Isaiah 6:3)
In Hebrew, repetition signifies emphasis. To repeat something three times is to state it in its ultimate, most absolute form. God is holy to the uttermost. This holiness, kadosh, means He is set apart, distinct, in a category all by Himself. He is not just a bigger, better version of us. He is qualitatively different. And this holy God is "Yahweh of hosts," the commander of all the armies of heaven and earth. He is sovereign in power. And His glory is not confined to this heavenly temple. The seraphim declare that "the whole earth is full of His glory." It is not that it will be one day; it is, right now. The problem is not that the glory is absent, but that our eyes are blind to it.
The created order itself responds to this declaration. The foundations of the temple shake, and the house fills with smoke, just as it did at Mount Sinai when God gave the law. This is the awesome, terrifying presence of the living God. This is not a safe, comfortable, or casual environment.
The Sinner Undone (v. 5)
In the face of this overwhelming holiness, Isaiah has the only appropriate response for a sinful man.
"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.'" (Isaiah 6:5)
He does not say, "Wow, what a privilege!" He says, "Woe is me!" A true vision of God's holiness does not lead to self-esteem; it leads to self-abhorrence. The word for "ruined" means to be undone, to come apart. In the presence of perfect holiness, Isaiah feels himself disintegrating. The light of God's glory reveals all the filth in his own heart.
He specifically identifies his sin as having "unclean lips." As a prophet, his mouth was his tool of the trade. But he realizes that his words, his very means of service, are polluted. And he does not see this as a merely individual problem. He lives "among a people of unclean lips." A true sense of sin recognizes our corporate solidarity in rebellion. The reason for this crisis is stated plainly: "For my eyes have seen the King." To see God as He is, is to see ourselves as we are. And for a sinner, that sight is a death sentence.
The Atoning Fire (vv. 6-7)
Just as Isaiah is undone, grace intervenes. He does not fix himself. He does not make a promise to do better. Salvation comes from the outside. It is a divine intrusion.
"Then one of the seraphim flew to me with a burning coal in his hand, which he had taken from the altar with tongs." (Isaiah 6:6)
The solution to Isaiah's sin comes from the altar. The altar was the place of sacrifice, the place of atonement, where a substitute died and the wrath of God was satisfied. This burning coal is a piece of the altar, a piece of the sacrifice. It represents the finished work of atonement. For us, that coal is a symbol of the cross of Jesus Christ. Forgiveness is not cheap. It is costly. It is fiery. It is bloody.
The application of this grace is personal and direct.
"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.'" (Isaiah 6:7)
The fire touches the very place of his confessed uncleanness, his lips. This is a painful purification. Grace is not always gentle; it cauterizes. It burns away the infection of sin. And following this application of atonement comes the glorious declaration of the gospel. It is a legal verdict. "Your iniquity is taken away." "Your sin is atoned for." The word for atoned for here is kaphar, which means to be covered. His sin is covered by the sacrifice on the altar.
This is justification. It is not that Isaiah is now inherently righteous. It is that his sin has been dealt with, paid for, and removed by a gracious act of God, based on a sacrifice. He is declared clean.
Conclusion: From Ruin to Readiness
This is the unalterable pattern of the gospel. We do not come to God to get our lives tidied up. We come to God as He is, and that vision ruins us. It exposes our sin, our uncleanness, our utter bankruptcy. We must begin with "Woe is me," or we will never get to the gospel. Any evangelism that skips this step, that presents Jesus as a mere life-enhancement coach, is a false gospel.
But praise God, the story does not end with our ruin. For those undone by the law, grace comes from the altar of Christ's cross. The fiery purification of His shed blood is applied to our point of deepest shame, and the verdict is read over us: "Your iniquity is taken away. Your sin is atoned for."
Only after this experience of being undone by holiness and remade by grace is a person fit to serve God. Only when we have seen the King on His throne do we have a message worth proclaiming. Our commission, like Isaiah's, is to go to a people of unclean lips and tell them of the King whose glory fills the earth, and of the altar where a burning, cleansing grace can be found.