My heart sank as the page turned, revealing I’d reached the end of the book. I hate that. Reading a favorite tome only to reach the end before I am prepared to finish is decidedly unpleasant. I would love to read more. Have more. More inspirations. More insights. More promises. More prayers. Several more chapters could have been added before my insatiable desire for his words was quenched. But it is finished. The final chapter of Isaiah is now behind me. Not for the first time. I’ve read it more often than I can remember. I will read it again. Although I find it impossible to choose a favorite book of the Bible, the 66 chapters of Isaiah easily make the shortlist. Every chapter. Every year.
That’s how frequently I read the book in its entirety. Yearly. Between readings, I often turn back to those pages and peruse my notes, seek specific passages, find comfort, courage, guidance, hope. I’ve found all those things there. Tucked between destructive pronouncements and prophesied judgments on those who choose not to follow Him, are the words of God to the people of God. Words that tell us who He is, express His character, and reveal His heart. Indicative words of who His people are, how they should live, and the reward for following His ways. Words that call us to turn back from the world, from ourselves, from wickedness, and come back to the God who is full of grace and mercy and forgiveness. No matter who we are, where we have been, or what we have done. Words that call us to service in a world that is rapidly slipping away. Words like those of Isaiah 6. (Isaiah 2:5; 5:16; 12:1-6; 14:27; 30:15; 33:22; 40:10-31; 49:23; 56:1-2; 58:1-2, 13-14; 66:1-2)
High on my list of chapters to read over and over again is Isaiah 6. Somehow, I identify with that chapter. Amazed and awed to be standing in the presence of Almighty God, my heart resounds in echoes of agreement with the prophet’s words. Overwhelmed by the awesomeness of God’s holiness, I, too, am acutely aware of my uncleanness and unworthiness to stand in His presence. As Isaiah humbly and honestly admits who he is, what he is, and where he is from, as he offers himself as a living sacrifice to the service of God, my head nods in agreement. My voice echoes his words. I am right there with him. Completely overwhelmed by the holiness of God, desperately aware of my inadequacies and insufficiencies, I find myself bowed beside Isaiah, crying out words that echo his. Unclean. Unworthy. Unacceptable.
Standing in the nearly tangible presence of the perfect, holy God, I admit who I am, what I am. Because I know. Better than anyone, I know myself. And I know, just as Isaiah knew, that I am ineligible to stand there. I am not righteous. I have done nothing reputable. I do not come with glittering recommendations. All I have are filthy rags. The accolades, awards, and accomplishments of earth mean nothing when viewed under the light of God’s impeccable holiness. Yet, into that moment of absolute transparency, when it is glaringly apparent that I deserve nothing, God gives me everything. Just as He did Isaiah. Into my uncleanness, God brings cleansing, purging atonement. And He doesn’t stop there. God is still speaking. He has a mission. One that hasn’t changed since the call of Isaiah. It’s not different than the call of Jeremiah. It’s identical to the call of the New Testament twelve. It is the call of God to all people who truly know Him. “Who is going to do My work, speak My words when they are unpopular, undesirable, unwelcome? Who on earth will direct My people back to heaven?” (Isaiah 6; Jeremiah 1:1-10, 17-19; Matthew 4:19; 9:37; 28:19-20; Acts 1:8)
In the Biblical account, there is no space recorded between God’s question and Isaiah’s answer. No matter the heaviness that came with the request, he immediately accepted the challenge. One wonders if, as God laid out His plan for Isaiah, the niggling voice in the back of his head went into full gear, setting loose a volley of questions about what he’d just signed up to do. I wonder if he thought of reneging. Just for a moment. Maybe when he asked, “How long am I doing this, Lord?” How long was he going to keep talking to people who wouldn’t listen? How long was he going to extend himself, make unpleasant prophecies and undesirable pronouncements? How long would he be an enemy to the people around him? How long would the people hear his words yet ignore their truth? How long did he have to make a difference before God’s punishment fell like rain?
As it turns out, Isaiah had a long time to speak God’s words to God’s people. Carefully woven between prophesies of destruction, are words calling people to repentance. Isaiah was all about it. Bringing people back to God was his main priority. It was his purpose. He wasn’t just there to pronounce judgment on Assyria and punishment on Babylon. He wasn’t there only to speak out against Philistia and Moab. No. Isaiah’s mission was much more important. He was there to speak words of rebuke and calls for repentance to the rebellious, recalcitrant people God loved. He was sent to offer restoration, demonstrate renewal, and start a revival among the people of God. Unfortunately, his words fell on purposely obtuse ears. (Isaiah 5:8-30; 10:12-19; 14:3-15:9; 40; 43:1-25; 55:1-7)
Nearly sixty chapters after Isaiah’s encounter with the seraphim and capitulation to the call of God, he pens the words of a desperate prayer. There’s so much sin and straying around him. The people continually waver in their dedication to God. Sometimes they follow. Often they stray. They love idolatry. Love themselves. Love the trinkets of the world. They have made God angry with their bent toward wickedness. Knowing everything they know about God and His mercy, they still stray. As if they have all the time in the world. As if God will simply overlook their evil ways. As if there are no consequences for wickedness. In desperate desire to see God work and move and change the people, the urgent words of a prayer flow from the depths of the prophet’s aching heart to land on the parchment. “God, tear away everything that stands between us and you. Saturate our space with your presence. Fill it with your glory. Do a work so mighty everyone will know Your name. We know we don’t deserve it. We know we could never earn it. We acknowledge that we have sinned and strayed and stubbornly followed our own ways to our own detriment. But. You are our Father. You love us no matter what. Your desire is for us. You long to dwell among us. So tear back the heavens and come do your work on earth. Among us. Restore us. Renew us. Revive us again.” (Isaiah 63:15-19; 64:1-9; 66:18)
Looking at our society, our country, our world, I find myself in the same space as Isaiah. Frustrated with the flourishing spiritual apathy. Concerned over the complacency of the church. Exhausted by the constant battle of good versus evil. I deeply feel the words of his prayer. I know them. I’ve prayed them. Desperate wishes. Urgent longings. Hope consistently triumphing over experience to believe the people so egregiously steeped in resistance and rebellion may still turn back to God. And I find myself, in a tone likely far less acceptable than Isaiah’s, crying his words out to God. “Do something. Now. Make your presence known. Among us. Even if I am the only one asking. Even if no one else is interested. Do it anyway. Rip away the heavens if necessary. Come down here. Tear away the sky and send your spirit among us. Shred the things that stand between us and you. Leave no barriers intact. Wash our hearts. Cleanse our minds. Purge our lips. Do what it takes to fill every inch of our space with your presence. Renew our hearts. Restore our dedication. Revive us again. Start here. In me.”
It has to start there. In you. In me. Personally. As lawless and sinful as our world is, if we are to pray down revival on our nation, our communities, our churches, we must first pray it down on ourselves. We must stand open before the Lord, allow Him to tear away the dead and dying branches of our lives, let Him edit our thoughts and words and desires, give Him carte blanche to do in us what needs to be done so that we can be filled with His presence. We must let go of our complacency. We must relinquish our selfishness. We must sacrifice our idols and favorite sins on the altar of God. We must submit to His cleansing so we might be renewed, restored, and revived to become the fire of God spreading throughout our world. It is not enough to wish or even pray for revival. If we want to see societal healing, change, and revival, we must first bare our souls to the personal cleansing, purging work of the Holy Spirit. (John 15:1-2; James 4:8; Psalm 80:19; 85:6; II Chronicles 7:14; II Corinthians 7:1)
In a moment of absolute honesty, we would be forced to admit the outlook isn’t great right now. Tragedy surrounds us. Uncertainty pervades the atmosphere. Unease fills us with anxiety and fear. Surprisingly enough, none of these things turns our selfish, arrogant, rebellious society back to God. Mired in our idols and tied to our idolatry, we continue to trudge on, ignorantly believing we can set things right on our own. We can’t. We have an enormous problem. Lots of them. We can’t fix them on our own no matter how hard we try or how great our ideas seem. We are lost on our own. But. We do have an omnipotent Father. He is poised and waiting. His ears are tuned to hear our cries. He is waiting for an invitation. He is hoping to hear our cry, “Lord, tear away the things that stand between us and You. Come. Cleanse our iniquity. Purge our sin. Renew our hearts. Restore our souls. Revive us again.” (Psalm 50:15; Jeremiah 33:3; Isaiah 58:9-11; 59:12-15; Romans 10:13)
He will. When God’s people fall to their knees and cry out to Him, He will answer. At the very invitation to permeate our hearts with His presence, He will come. As we submit and surrender to His pruning, His nudging, His care, He will restore us to new life. He will revive us again. That’s how revival starts. By God’s people falling to their knees and crying, “Do whatever it takes. Tear away anything that is standing in the way. Fill our lives, our homes, our churches, our communities with your presence. Even if it hurts. Even if it is uncomfortable. Even if we contemplate quitting halfway through the process. Don’t stop. Keep working. Give us your spirit. Purge our dross. Dwell among us. Renew our devotion. Restore our faithfulness. Revive our complacent hearts.” God will respond. If only we cry out to Him.
So pray the words. Not for your pastor, your spouse, your neighbor, your friend. Pray them for yourself. Ask God to change you. Your heart. Your mind. Your outlook. Ask Him to revive the dying parts of your soul. Prune away the unnecessary baggage. Remove the things that sap your spiritual strength and drain your spiritual energy. Beg Him to restore you to Himself. Pray to be renewed in your mind. Pray for holiness to be reinstated in your life. Ask God to tear away the things that have created a space between you and Him and to fill that space with His presence. Allow Him to change you. Saturate every part of your being. Flow into, through, and out of you. Revival is possible. In you. Through you. If only we pray. (Habakkuk 3:2; Acts 3:19-21; Hosea 6:1-6; Psalm 51:10-13;139:23-24; Lamentations 5:21; Isaiah 57:14-19)