Letting Go

“Letting Go”
Fifth Sunday of Epiphany, Year C, February 10, 2019
Isaiah 6:1-13 Luke 5:1-11
First Presbyterian Church of Sandpoint, Idaho
Pastor Andy Kennaly

It is one thing to try and talk about God, as if God is some object, separate and observable, and another thing to share our experience of God, which gets closer to the reality that God is Subject and not object. To share experience is a very difficult art, because one experience cannot be replicated or taken in exactly the same way by those who receive what is shared. The best we can come up with to help express, for example, aspects of God, is using metaphor and story. People who wrote the books which now form what we call The Bible knew this well, and the Hebrew Scriptures utilize narrative as a tool to not only communicate the what of a story, but also the who and the why. We can glean for ourselves the idea behind our answers to the question of what different does it make as we read these stories that have echoed through the ages, catching people at different levels of understanding and interpretation. The New Testament is similar as we read of Jesus interacting with his disciples in situations that point to God’s grace through image and story.

This morning we come alongside the prophet Isaiah, and he says he saw, that is, he has a vision from the entrance of the Temple near the altar of burnt-offering. As he enters the Temple in Jerusalem the veil is pulled back, not in terms of a curtain, but in terms of being able to see divine glory beyond the physical realm of our experience on earth.

This vision is given to Isaiah in the year King Uzziah died, probably around 759 BCE. Commentators really love this passage as they share information, such as how Isaiah lived through the last 20 years of Uzziah’s reign, which was very showy and had materialism as a focus, yet inward corruption was common. Some scholars suggest that for over 50 years, Uzziah was king and the country was powerful, militarily successful, and industrious. Others point out that Uzziah profaned the holiness of the Temple, and was likely in the process of dying from leprosy. There’s a sub conversation about whether he died physically, or socially in terms of simply being cast out from power and mainstream society because of his disease, dying to the world, so to speak. For Isaiah, after such a long, politically stable and prosperous time, some point out that it is natural for a society to wonder what its future holds when its leader becomes corrupt and compromised, especially when an earthquake takes place which really gets you thinking about God’s presence and will, with themes of judgement.

We’re given a vision of a throne, in the Temple, High and Lofty, like royalty lifted above the common people. Some commentators say the high and lofty phrase refers to the throne, not the Lord, while other commentators say it’s not the throne, but God who is above all creatures. Others Christianize this Hebrew Scripture, saying this is the exalted Christ, after the humiliation on earth. Lots of variations, many interpretations are possible, some more informed than others!

Also, the word, Temple has a quality, or character to it, which equates the palace of the great King of kings. Instead of Yahweh or Jehovah, the names for God used earlier, here the name, Adonai, carries a royal quality.

One of the more enjoyable summaries of this passage says this:

“Uzziah had reigned for fifty-two years, during the greater part of which he and his people had been brilliantly prosperous. […] The prophet, like other thoughtful patriots, was asking himself what was to come in these anxious days, when the helm was in new hands, which, perhaps, were not strong enough to hold it. Like a wise man, he took his thoughts into the sanctuary; and there he understood. As he brooded, this great vision was disclosed to his inward eye. ‘In the year that King Uzziah died’ is a great deal more than a date for chronological purposes. It tells us not only the when, but the why, of the vision. The earthly king was laid in the grave; but the prophet saw that the true King of Israel was neither the dead Uzziah nor the young Jotham, but the Lord of hosts. And, seeing that, fears and forebodings and anxieties and the sense of loss, all vanished; and new strength came to Isaiah. He went into the temple laden with anxious thoughts; he came out of it with a springy step and a lightened heart, and the resolve ‘Here am I; send me.’"  (https://biblehub.com/commentaries/isaiah/6-1.htm, Ellicott’s Commentary for English Readers, https://biblehub.com/commentaries/ellicott/isaiah/6.htm).

“This great vision was disclosed to his inward eye.” As God sends Isaiah to the people, instructions are given, which can also be interpreted on different levels of meaning. “Go and say to this people: ‘Keep listening, but do not comprehend; keep looking, but do not understand.’ God tells Isaiah 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.” On one hand, the people are used to looking around and seeing prosperity, sensing security, hearing how good things are. Those messages are to be released because they are not ultimate.  Also, as the Babylonians come from the north and bring destruction, the people will see devastation and hear messages that strip them of their humanity as they are killed or enslaved. As they lose everything, this is also to be released, because their pain is not what defines them, and it doesn’t have any eternity to it. So, on the one hand what Isaiah is told to share, and how he is supposed to share it involve a geopolitical awareness, a social aspect, a religious identity.

There is another way of looking at these verses through a stance of prayer.  These instructions are also very similar to the practice of Centering Prayer, of contemplation, and learning the art of letting go as one becomes more familiar with seeing through the eyes of the heart as an organ of spiritual perception. Closing your eyes and ears, this is an invitation to go inward; dulling your mind, this is another way of saying calming, or releasing your thoughts. (See Cynthia Bourgeault's, The Heart of Centering Prayer)

The same is true for that closing image of everything becoming destroyed: cities in waste without inhabitant, land desolate, everyone sent away, far away, only a vast emptiness in the midst of the land. Even the small remaining terebinth shall be burned. A terebinth is a type of tree similar to pistachio tree and cashew tree, which was a source of turpentine, so it would likely burn very well. The other images shows the oaks cut, with only a stump remaining. Oaks are sturdy and strong, hardwood that grows very slowly, and yet they are cut and gone, and “the holy seed is its stump,” as the holy is found deep within. On the one hand, this is what happens when the Hebrew people are hauled off into exile and their cities and farms destroyed as the Babylonians invade, plunder, enslave, or kill. On the other hand, once again, this is a spiritual assessment of removing all distraction as you focus on what is most essential, the inward seed of God’s Presence. What seems like nothing is actually a spaciousness filled with promise, with a core of divinity that cannot be destroyed. Aren’t metaphors amazing?

In Luke the disciple leave everything and follow Jesus. This story of fishing on the Lake of Gennesaret, which is another name for the Sea of Galilee, a freshwater lake in Israel, 700 feet below sea level, has imagery built right in of going deeper, which is also a metaphor pointing into our hearts. Peter has excuses, skimming along the surface for so long, afraid that his sin is a limiting factor in experiencing Christ in his midst, and yet we see messages of encouragement, “Put out into the deep waters, and let down your nets for a catch,” and also “Do not be afraid.”

Contemplation is another name for experiential faith. As we meditate or pray, we are actively seeking God. To live a contemplative life is to practice the Presence of God in and through all things. We too can learn that our true identity is not our pain, not our wounds, not our suffering; our calling is not toward despair but promise, not destructive, but hopeful, not filled with fear, but transformed through reverence, awe, and wonder. We are called to go deep, to trust that in the depths of life and soul we meet God, who abundantly loves us.

We still need to deal with geopolitical situations, such as nuclear weapons and militarization, with existential threats such as global warming, with the seduction of prosperity and the obscurities of corruption. Like Isaiah going to the Temple for solace, we too, have many things that seem foreboding in our world. As Jesus invites us into a Larger mind, a deeper Consciousness, the active Presence of Love, we are invited to allow God room to work in transforming our hearts to change our vision and shape our actions from a grace-filled stance that has learned the art of letting go. Like one of the principles of Permaculture, we discover the problem holds the solution, we just need eyes to see in a different way. Then we come alongside the Psalmist who says in Psalm 138, “I give you thanks, O LORD, with my whole heart;” for it’s from the wholeness of our heart that the LORD fulfills God’s purpose for us.

Thanks be to God for metaphors, for the Bible, for ancient stories which point beyond themselves to teach lessons of life abundant, held in God’s grace and glory. As we learn to let go of all that distracts us from God’s Presence, may we be filled with grace for the journey, and the hope Isaiah found as he discovers God’s throne room is all the earth and we can skip with joy.

Thanks be to God, and may God be glorified, NOW, even as forever. Amen.