"Send Me!" - Isaiah 6:1-8 - June 11, 2006

Early last week I was working on my sermon and I was interrupted. There was a workshop in the fellowship hall and they wanted the air conditioning turned on. I immediately thought to myself, "Why me?" My job is to prepare sermons, lead worship and visit the sick. The day before another group was in the building and they had questions about setting up tables. And on my day off, I happened to be in the building when a young woman came needing food.

I was lamenting over all those interruptions and thinking I should write all of them down so the Church Council could see everything I do. As a pastor I am asked to do many things that aren’t included in my job description. It’s not that I mind attending to people’s needs and being a helper, it’s the fact that no one has a clue of the myriad of things that I do just because I am here.

After reading this famous passage from Isaiah I realized that I had something in common with him. When Isaiah said, "I am lost," I realized that I am lost too. To complain about all the little interruptions and things I do for others is to be lost. Whenever you truly feel called to a position of responsibility there are going to be things you are asked to do that you did not bargain for. It makes no difference whether you are the owner of a company, a supervisor, a teacher, a parent or even a spouse, it comes with the territory.

For Isaiah to come to the conclusion that he was lost, he had to truly see himself as he was. He was a political advisor to the king. This position caused him to compromise his beliefs and values and he was feeling guilty. In other words, he had to admit his sins. "I live among people of unclean lips, yet my eyes have seen the King, the Lord of hosts!" On the one hand what he was doing was in conflict with what he felt he was called to do, and on the other hand he was very aware of God’s presence.

A young, ambitious pastor was called to serve a church that was struggling. His predecessor said the church was "dead." But the pastor accepted the call, because he believed that with God’s help he could bring it back to life. He was an optimist and he worked hard, visiting members, preaching enthusiastic sermons and developing outreach programs. But, the harder he tried, the more he realized his previous pastor was right.

One Sunday he made a shocking announcement to the few who had gathered for worship. He announced that since the church was "dead" he would conduct a funeral service for the church the following Sunday. The members wondered what he was trying to pull. All that week the word about the funeral service for the church became the talk of the town. People were calling each other, even those who were inactive. Some were confused and others were mad.

Sunday came and the church was full. All the members were curious about the pastor’s intentions. When they arrived they noticed an open casket sitting in a corner of the sanctuary. People were puzzled about who was in it. The pastor read scripture, said prayers and gave a very sad sermon as he lamented over the demise of the church that was "dead." After he finished his sermon he told everyone to rise and pass by the casket to pay their respects. Slowly, each one passed by, their faces assuming disconcerting expressions as each looked inside. Much to everyone’s surprise the casket was empty, except for a mirror. As each person peered inside the casket, what they saw was their own face.

If you don’t like the way things are about your church, your family, your community or your world, the first thing you have to do is take an honest look at yourself. Like Isaiah, we all need to answer the question, "Am I lost?" And, when we come to the realization that we need to seek God’s forgiveness.

In Aesop's Fables there is a story entitled, "The Brother and the Sister." A father had one son and one daughter, the former remarkable for his good looks, the latter for her extraordinary ugliness. While they were playing one day as children, they happened by chance to look together into a mirror that was placed on their mother's chair. The boy congratulated himself on his good looks; the girl grew angry, and could not bear the self-praises of her Brother, interpreting all he said (and how could she do otherwise?) into reflection on herself. She ran off to her father, to be avenged on her Brother, and spitefully accused him of having, as a boy, made use of that which belonged only to girls. The father embraced them both, and bestowing his kisses and affection impartially on each, said, "I wish you both would look into the mirror every day: you, my son, that you may not spoil your beauty by evil conduct; and you, my daughter, that you may make up for your lack of beauty by your virtues." (George Fyler Townsend)

When Isaiah truly saw himself something extraordinary happened. He was forgiven. Like the father in the story who embraced both his children, Isaiah was embraced by God. The Lord said, "Your guilt is departed and your sin is blotted out." We too will be forgiven for being lost, but that can’t happen until we are willing to admit it. Like Isaiah and the folks in the "dead" church, we must truly see ourselves.

Once Isaiah had experienced God’s forgiveness he responded by serving God as His representative. Forgiveness was the motivation Isaiah needed to answer the call as a servant of God. "Here am I, send me," he said emphatically. He committed himself to a life of service to be a prophet to his people.

God is calling each one of us to be teachers, counselors, helpers, mentors, healers, leaders, all agents of God’s grace and love to people who are lost. Our mission field doesn’t have to be some faraway place. It can be like Isaiah, who ministered to the needs of his own people. And, like Isaiah, God wants each of us to say "Here I am;" to our church, our family, our community, and to our world. The world is full of lost souls, and God needs us to reach out to them.

Who are the lost? They are anyone who has not looked in the mirror lately. They are those who pretend, those who live under false assumptions, or those who live in denial. However, we can’t change others until we are willing to change ourselves.

I’m not a big fan of Dr. Phil, but he does have a major premise that applies to relationships that I agree with. He contends that there is nothing you can do to change your partner, your significant other, or whomever you have a relationship with. First, you have to change yourself. By acknowledging your own faults and then proceeding to make improvements in your life, those closest to you will be affected. (from Life Strategies, Phillip McGraw, Hyperion, New York, 1999)

I believe that one reason we don’t experience forgiveness in worship is because we are generally thinking of the faults and shortcomings of others. We are not looking at the mirror in the casket. Instead we see faces of others rather than our own. We can’t experience forgiveness unless we are willing to be honest about our own sinfulness.

Life as a person of faith is an adventure. We don’t know where it will take us. But, to get started we have to see those little interruptions and demands that others place upon us as opportunities for service. Life as a person of faith is a journey, not a destination. Like Isaiah, it is all about saying, "Here am I, send me." Once we make a commitment to respond to a calling, our lives will never be the same. As a result we will be drawn to places, people and experiences that will be new and different and most always beyond our wildest imaginations.

A few years ago, AT&T had a major snafu in New York City. They had a agreement with the city that, when electrical demand peaked, AT&T would switch to their backup generators. One day they did just that, but something went wrong. When they switched over, there was a power surge and it blew a number of rectifiers. Not only did that knock out the phone service in the city, it also disrupted communications for air controllers a the area airports. Thousands of flights had to be canceled. Ordinarily technicians could fix the problems quickly. However, on this occasion they did not respond. While the alarm bells rang unheard, the technicians were all attending a training session on handling an emergency.

That can also be said for our lives in the church. To be people of faith goes beyond being folks who worship on Sunday. While it is true that we come to worship for instruction, at some point we have to apply what we have learned and be god’s agents in the world. When worship becomes an end in itself, we are not answering the call. Worship is a time to strengthen and empower us but it is also a time for self-examination. True worship frees us from guilt, sets us free and sends us forth to go to people. It is not that we "go" to church, but that the church enables us to "go" to others.

Reporters and city officials gathered at a Chicago railroad station one afternoon in 1953. The person they were meeting was the 1952 Nobel Peace Prize winner. A few minutes after the train came to a stop, a giant of a man, with bushy hair and a large mustache stepped from the train. Cameras flashed and city officials approached him with hands outstretched. Various ones began telling him how honored they were to meet him. The man politely thanked them and then, looking over their heads, he asked if he could be excused for a moment. He quickly walked through the crowd that had gathered to greet him and approached an elderly, black woman who was struggling with two large suitcases. He picked up the bags and escorted the woman to a bus. After helping her aboard, he wished her a safe journey. He then returned to the well-wishers and said, "Sorry to keep you waiting." The man was Albert Schweitzer, the famous missionary doctor who spent his entire life helping the poor. In response to his action one member of the reception said, "That’s the first time I ever saw a sermon walking."

"Here I am, send me!"

Dr. Keith Wagner, St. Paul’s United Church of Christ, Sidney, Ohio