Confused glances met across the congregation. No one had a clue what he was talking about. They were doing the right things. All of them. Every single one. It was obvious by the number of people gathered to hear him speak. Only the sick and infirm were missing. It was always like this. Every time they gathered. The space was full every Sabbath. Sacrifices were made. Words were spoken. They stayed through the final “Amen,” before leaving to go about their lives. Even the events planned on days that weren’t the Sabbath had not gone unobserved. Feasts were meticulously planned. New moons were celebrated. Each was appropriately commemorated according to the established standard. Perfect altar made. Perfect sacrifice laid. Perfect ritual led. This was why Isaiah’s words were met with confusion and consternation. They were doing everything right. It was true. Rigorously, they adhered to the very strictest letter of the law. In their religion. Not in their lives.
As perfectly conscientious as the religious observance of the people was, it was not reflected in their daily lives. At all. Their lives were far less structured. Morally. Ethically. Spiritually. They were downright messy. Littered with rebellion. Brimming with iniquity. Replete with corruption. Their regular activities and actions were a clear indication of how far they had come from being people who followed God. They despised His laws. They had abandoned His ways. Spiritually diseased and morally bankrupt, they were now estranged from God, speeding down a collision course with His righteous justice. Their lives were a disaster. They needed change. Real change. Not in the temple practices. Not in their ceremonies and celebrations. In their hearts. (Isaiah 1:1-8)
The disastrous state of their hearts was not disguised by their careful following of the religious rituals established by their ancestors. God wasn’t even mildly fooled by that. He wasn’t confused by their pedantic adherence to temple rules and sacrifices. He was not distracted by their regular Sabbath attendance, new moon observances, and feast celebrations. God knew what they were thinking, what they were doing. He knew their confidence rested solely in their own actions and the ill-begotten belief that these observances and rituals would remove God’s judgment from the rest of their lives. No matter what they did. No matter how they spoke. No matter how they acted towards God or others. The people had allowed themselves to buy into the belief that God would bless and preserve and condone their lives because they were scrupulously adhering to the practices of the law. Outwardly.
Every Sabbath, as the people gathered to act out the religious rituals required of them, their hearts and minds were other places. They had things to do. Schedules to keep. Places to be. Church was just a thing they did, a box to tick, a requirement to fulfill. They were there to observe the necessities and move on. They didn’t enter that space with the intention of growing closer to God, better learning His ways, more appropriately walking in His paths, or allowing His light to illuminate their hearts. No. They attended simply because it was religiously required and socially acceptable, not because their souls were hungering and thirsting after righteousness. That was the problem. That was the reason God sent Isaiah. To call them back to what they once knew. (Matthew 5:6)
At one time, the people of Judah and Jerusalem had been close to God. Historically. Covenantally. They had walked in righteousness. Their hearts had been open to His voice, His leading. They desired to please God. Always. It was the reason they meticulously followed the religious rituals and observances. They were not a replacement for God. They were an act of worship to God. A sign of devotion. A reminder of the covenant between themselves and God. Over time, things happened. In hearts. In minds. Drifting occurred. Mediocrity set in. Complacency settled over their spirits. They didn’t notice. Because they were still doing the outward things–enacting the rituals, observing the feasts, offering the sacrifices–they didn’t notice, or care, that the inward things had fallen away. But God did.
God was absolutely not happy with what was going on. Inside or outside the temple. His intention had always been for one to flow into the other. The things learned inside were to change their hearts, flow through their lives, and show in their actions outside. It wasn’t like that. Instead, they had created two separate lives. One for church. One for society. They thought it was genius. God thought it was disgusting. He said so. With peaked indignation and overflowing just judgment, God spoke. He was done. He wasn’t interested in their sacrifices and offerings. He wasn’t moved by their crocodile tears and copious public prayers. Those things didn’t come close to meeting the standards for being a pleasing sacrifice to God. Their spirits weren’t humble. Their hearts weren’t contrite. Their souls were not obedient. They deserved judgment. God knew it, yet still He offered grace. (Psalm 51:17; I Samuel 15:22; Hosea 6:6; Proverbs 21:3)
Overflowing with compassion and mercy, God sent Isaiah to have a conversation with the people. A one-sided conversation. A monologue, if you will. A revealing reprimand they needed to hear. God was wise to their shenanigans. He knew they were busily practicing a form of godliness, but lacking the spirit of God in their lives. Isaiah’s job was to call them back to the heart of worship, to bring back into focus the importance of Sabbath gathering, to turn their attention back toward God. Because they had forgotten. The reason for worship. The message of worship. The One they worshipped. So absorbed were they in their own lives and aspirations that they had forgotten, or were ignoring, the real reason they came to the temple, made sacrifices, and listened to the priests teach. More concerningly, they had convinced themselves that attendance and ritualistic adherence to the laws was enough to gain God’s approval.
It wasn’t. God was wholly unimpressed with their ability to flawlessly perform longstanding rituals. Anyone could do that. Everyone could. Nations worshipping false gods did it every day. God wanted more from His people, more for them. He wanted relationship with them. Collectively. Individually. But that required change. Intentional change. Purposeful change. Uncomfortable change. It required looking into their own hearts, admitting their guilt, identifying the places that needed work, and opening themselves to the correcting, cleansing, purifying work of God.
The task would be daunting. They knew it. They knew what was in their hearts. Like smears of red on garments of white, their hearts were stained and dirty. Sin clearly had dominion over them. It ruled their hearts and lives. They were selfish and self-centered. They were boastful and proud. They were cheaters and liars and rebels. Their days were spent in injustices, their nights in revelry. Their souls were sick, wounded, and bleeding, infected, septic, and dying. The view in God’s mirror was horrifying. Yet Isaiah was calling them to come and look anyway. See their true reflection. See who they had really become. See how much they had changed. Admit how they had tried to use the Sabbath rituals as a way to manipulate God’s favor while holding onto their sin. Acknowledge who they currently are. Law followers, not God followers. The difference is indisputable. The outcome of staying in that space is irrefutable. The soul that sins dies. (Isaiah 1:9-20, 28; Ezekiel 18:4,20)
Embarrassingly, we are afflicted in much the same way as Judah and Jerusalem. Although we have not stopped attending and participating in church rituals and religious habits, we have forgotten the original reason for our Sunday worship services. They have become rituals. Habits. Things we do before we can get on with the things we really want to be doing. The two halves of our lives, spiritual and secular, never intersect. They exist independently of one another rather than one influencing the other. We participate in one, but engage in the other. We show up at church. Go through the motions. Get out as quickly as possible. We experience no urgency in prayer. No welcoming of the presence of God. No hope that the Spirit descends, the glory of God falls, conviction reigns, and we cry out to God in repentance, obedience, and change. We are just fine without any of those things. We don’t want them. Have convinced ourselves we don’t need them, that habitually participating in the ritual is enough to get to Heaven. It isn’t. It never will be. Empty prayers, miserly sacrifices, and selfish lifestyles will never get you there. But they will get you sick souls. We should know that. Our churches are full of them. Starved for His presence, thousands of souls are dehydrated and dying. Is yours one of them? It doesn’t have to be.
Written directly after the intense reprimand and call to repentance Isaiah issued to the people of Judah and Jerusalem is a picture of how the church should look. A description of how it will look in the future, but also a goal for what it should be today. In the second chapter of Isaiah, he records a vision where he sees the exaltation of the Lord’s house and all nations flooding there to worship. They are coming in with the express purpose of learning God’s ways so they can go out and walk in His paths. Sabbath worship is no longer a time of meaningless habits and rituals, but a time of reconciliation and rejuvenation. It is a place people want to be and a time they are happy to spend. Not because the coffee bar was upgraded, the speaker is engaging, or the music is particularly contemporary. No. Because their souls are being fed and fattened by the unadulterated words of God. There is accountability. For the preachers. For the people. There is encouragement to walk in God’s ways. All of them. In public. In private. There is bonding and building of a community of true believers who are unwilling to compromise their souls for the passing pleasures of earth. Nothing is more important to them than walking in the light of the Lord. Because that is how church should look. (Isaiah 2:1-5)
It starts with us. If our churches are going to look that way, our hearts have to look that way too. We have to be open and honest before God. We have to live in a spirit of repentance and obedience. We have to choose to walk in the light and ways of God when it isn’t prosperous, isn’t popular, isn’t particularly promoting. We cannot let the things of the world take precedence over time in His presence. We cannot settle for mediocrity. We cannot become complacent. We cannot buy into the Jesus lite doctrine. We must safeguard our souls by creating a space in which we meet with and hear from God on a regular basis. Then we must live like it. The spiritual must spill over into the secular, guiding our decisions, our morals, our ethics, our standards. In this way, by learning and daily walking in the light of the Lord, we become the light of the God, illuminating the darkness of the world. Exactly as we were called to be. Light bringing lights to the world. (Isaiah 2:22; Romans 12:2; Matthew 5:14-16; 22:27; I John 1:7; 2:15-17; Ephesians 5:8; John 8:12; Philippians 2:15; James 4:4; Colossians 3:16; Psalm 84:10; 122:1)