The Gift of Smallness
To say that Israel had a tumultuous relationship with her kings would be an understatement. Throughout their history, they had a few good kings, but many of their leaders let them down.
Uzziah was one of the good kings.... for the most part.
Uzziah was 16 years old when he became king of Israel and he reigned for 52 years. If that sounds like a long time, it’s because it was. He “did what was right in the eyes of the Lord” as his father Amaziah had done (2 Chronicles 26:4). For the majority of his reign, Uzziah listened to the prophet Zechariah and because of that he and all of Israel flourished.
However, after Zechariah died and toward the end of his reign, Uzziah made some pretty serious mistakes. You know, the typical unauthorized lighting of incense that lead to leprosy and eventually his death. But until that point, he was a good and faithful king who was respected by his countrymen.
All of that is the background to Isaiah 6:1a which reads,
"In the year that King Uzziah died..."
It may have been akin to “in the year JFK was assassinated.” Or “in the year the World Trade Towers fell.” Or “in the year the housing market collapsed.” Those events are national time markers. They present a before and after paradigm that helps us measure time. Most of us have familial and personal time markers as well. In the year our son was born, in the year we started the new job, in the year we moved, in the year we lost mom. There are events that shape us and drive a stake into the ground declaring that life beyond this point will be different.
For the nation of Israel, that event was the year king Uzziah died. Every Israelite would have remembered that day. That’s why Isaiah references it. The Israelites measured time from that spot - because it turned their world upside down. When Uzziah died, the Israelites’ world was thrown into chaos. We don’t know exactly what happened, but we do know the event was significant enough to be a universal time marker for them.
However, listen to what Isaiah writes next,
In the year that King Uzziah died, I saw the Lord, high and exalted, seated on a throne; and the train of his robe filled the temple. (Isaiah 6:1)
Notice the contrast Isaiah is making. The earthly king died, but God is still in his throne - and he is exalted and beautiful on his throne. Notice what Isaiah DOES NOT say. He doesn’t say:
“I saw the Lord worried on his throne...”
“I saw the Lord confused on the throne...”
“I saw the Lord consulting others to make a game plan...”
“I saw the Lord surprised...”
No, he says, “I saw the Lord SEATED.” As if to say he’s comfortable, unworried, not surprised, and still in his rightful place at the center of the universe.
Isaiah gives people this vision in part because they had been thrown into turmoil over Uzziah's death. But when the world gets chaotic, it’s the prophetic voice that calls people to hold their breath and dive beneath the surface, under the wind and the waves, to realize that just below the surface there is a world of calm - because God still reigns.
What does all of this mean for us? It means that:
In the year we were put on house quarantine, the Lord was on his throne.
In the year the stock market crashed 3,000 points in one day, the Lord was on his throne.
In the year of a global pandemic, the Lord was on his throne.
In the year coronavirus shut down everything, the Lord was on his throne.
Today, right now, as the wind and waves rage, The Lord IS on his throne.
Because God rules and reigns, you can trust him, run to him, and worship him in the midst of the fog and uncertainty. Like you, I’d love to have answers and resolution to all of the waves and breakers that are crashing around us. I’d love for God to step in shower his globe with Purell, but because he’s God, I must trust that he is also wise to know what he should do. In fact, it’s these moment when we’re most aware of our need for God to be God, and we’re most aware that we are not God. In times like the one we’re living in right now, it seems most appropriate to bow in adoration. I typically choose to bow when I'm moved by God’s loving kindness and in awe of his grandeur. However, there’s another time to bow - it’s not so much bowing that you choose, but bowing that chooses you. That time is when you realize how small you really are. Moments like these don’t make us feel small, they remind us that we are small.
To people like you and I, Isaiah presents a vision of a greater reality. A reality that is more true than all of the chaos that’s taking place around us. Listen to the way Isaiah describes the throne room of heaven (Isaiah 6:1-4),
The train of his robe filled the temple. 2 Above him were seraphim, each with six wings: With two wings they covered their faces, with two they covered their feet, and with two they were flying. 3 And they were calling to one another:
“Holy, holy, holy is the Lord Almighty;
the whole earth is full of his glory.”
4 At the sound of their voices the doorposts
and thresholds shook and the temple was filled with smoke.
That is your God right now.
Arrayed in splendor.
Perfect in majesty.
High and exalted.
Lifted up.
In a world where it seems like everything is falling down, remember that God is still lifted up. He’s still being surrounded by angels who are casting down their golden crowns around the glassy sea.
Isaiah saw what a lot of people missed. Isaiah saw God amidst the confusion and disappointment. Isaiah saw God as he was, rather than shaping a God after his immediate circumstances. When we see God rightly, we can see ourselves and our world accurately.
So today, do yourself a favor and bow. Remember your smallness and receive it as a gift. When God is big, we can find freedom in being small. We weren’t designed to have to hold the whole world together, we are designed to trust the God who sits above it all - and he’s secure on his throne. Embrace your smallness as an invitation to worship and sit at the feet of your God who is powerful and unchanging.
As you worship today, I’d invite you to being by listening to this great hymn. Let it wash over you and allow it to feed your soul.