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This podcast is a production of Watermark Community Church in Dallas, Texas, USA. Watermark exists to be and make more fully devoted followers of Christ, looking to God's Word as our only authority, conscience and guide.
Good morning, Watermark. How are we doing today? Great to see you. Welcome to church. It's great to be together. If we've not met, my name is Kylen Perry. I'm the director of The Porch, which means I have the great honor of spending every Tuesday night with many young adults, those of you who might be here in the room with us right now as well as young adults who are gathering in different places and different churches all over the nation. God is doing a pretty tremendous thing in the lives of young adults. I'm grateful to be a part of it.
I very shamelessly want to plug right now that if you're a young adult in the room and you're looking for something to plug into, this is a great thing for you to hop into. You can join us on Tuesday nights at 7:00 in the exact same room you're sitting in right now, and you can learn God's Word with us as well as meet with other people. I am biased. I won't do that thing where I tell you I'm not, but I think it's pretty amazing and it is worth your time. I'm really excited to get into God's Word together this morning. Before we do, I'd love to pray in the same way we do every single week. So, would you pray with me right now?
God, we're grateful for this time, and we want to hear from you. God, we want to orient our minds and our hearts to this reality that we don't just read the Word. In this moment, we get to listen to you speak. Help us, God, to know that this is true.
I want to invite you to take a moment and pray for yourself, if you're willing, and ask that God would speak to you today. Take a moment and pray for those to your left and your right. Maybe you know them, maybe you don't. Maybe they're friends or family or maybe they're strangers and you don't know them, but take a moment and pray that God would speak to them as well. Lastly, I'd humbly ask that you would pray the Lord speak through me. I have nothing good to give you, but he is the giver of every good and perfect gift. So, pray that you would hear from him by way of my words this morning.
God, we love you, and we're grateful for this time. Speak to us now, we pray. In Jesus' name, amen.
My wife and I had our firstborn this last November. While everybody told us, "Man, the first day together is amazing," no one told us that the first night together was going to be awful. Now, you hear me say that and think, "Who _is_ this guy?" Don't judge me. That first night is difficult. I'm not just saying it's difficult because you're up every so many hours giving the baby food and making sure they're coasting through the evening. No, no, no. We expected _that_ much.
What we did not expect was the fact that our son would spontaneously choke on his own spit. He would struggle to do natural things that you would assume a human being would do: breathe and swallow. All night long, it felt like we were walking this tightrope between life and death. I'd heard parents joke, "Man, your job is just to keep them alive."
I thought that was a joke, but this was no laughing matter. We found ourselves in a moment where we genuinely were put to the test, and it wasn't even 24 hours in. My job as a father in this moment is to provide and protect, and what I found was I was already being put to the task. I had to prove I had what it took.
So, we start the evening, eight hours of terror with nothing but one of those squishy snot syringes to defend myself. We make it through one hour, and then two hours, and three hours. We kind of coast into the fourth hour, and we're starting to feel really tired by this moment because we haven't gotten a lick of sleep all night. We make it into the fifth hour when the nurse walks in, that blessed one from God. She looks at us and says, "Would y'all like me to take the baby so you can get some rest?"
"You're telling me that's an option? Why did no one tell me this? Why is it that I'm just now finding out, in the wee hours of the morning, that you are willing to step forward and do what I cannot: provide for my child and give me some rest?" You see, what happened in this moment is we had someone who knew our needs, and though we did not have the strength to fulfill them ourselves, they stepped in and fulfilled them instead.
Why do I tell you that? For a couple of reasons. First, to attest to the fact, in front of thousands of you, that parenting is hard. Can we just admit that? It's Every Generation July. Some of you feel like the moment I had in the hospital is the moment you're in right now. You're fighting for your life. You're trying to keep your kids at bay because you want them to be dignified young people as they listen to this message. I just want to hit the pressure release valve and say, "Hey, it is okay."
Like that nurse who looked at me and said, "Can I help?" I want to do you the honor of helping you and saying if they scream, we'll be fine. We're going to make it through these next few moments together. The second reason I tell you all this is because we're looking at a story today of a guy who finds himself in a very similar moment where he is somehow simultaneously struck with the awesomeness of something as well as the terror of that something. He's conflicted by what he finds.
If you have a Bible with you, you can turn with me to read that story in the book of Isaiah, starting in chapter 6. If you've been tracking with us over the course of the year, then you know we have been journeying through our _Year of the Word_, where we're trying to read through the Bible, as a church, over the course of 2025. Just this week, we turned the corner into the book of Isaiah. I don't know if you've read it before. I'm reading it again.
What I find every time I read Isaiah is it is this big, complex book. The reason it's complex is because most of Isaiah is written in the genre of poetic literature. I don't know about you. When I was in grade school, poetry was the thing my classmates and I always hated studying the most. The reason why is there's nothing easy about it. It's not an easy thing to understand. You have to interpret it. You have to know something about who the author was, what the situation was, and why they were writing what they were writing in order to interpret what the poetry is trying to communicate.
Isaiah is similar in that sense. You have to know "Who was this guy? What was going on?" It begs the question…_What is the background of the book?_ The background of the book is this. It's written by a guy by the name of Isaiah. He's a prophet, which is kind of like a spokesman for God. He's communicating to the nation of Israel two main ideas, because the book splits into two different sections.
In the first section, chapters 1-39, he's communicating a message of _judgment_. He's looking at Israel's leaders and accusing them. He's saying, "Hey, you've oppressed the poor, you've indulged your idolatry, and you continue to rebel against God in your disobedience." When you turn into chapter 40 and read the remainder of the book to chapter 66, you find that that message moves from judgment into _hope_. Sure, hope is sprinkled throughout that first section, but really it turns when you get to chapter 40, and that's what you predominantly see in that moment.
Now, we're looking at this idea of judgment today. When you read of God's judgment, it always kind of sends a chill down your spine. You're not really sure… "Well, hold on. Is this a good thing or a bad thing?" Just to help you understand what we mean when we say God is judging the nation of Israel, he's effectively grounding them.
Any parent knows they do not ground their kids because they want to punish them. "You're a bad boy. You're a bad girl. You sit over there in the corner." That's not what God is trying to do in this moment. He's not trying to punish his children; he's trying to purify his children. He is trying to teach them, "You can trust me, but because you haven't, I need to correct your behavior and lead you in a better way." That's the first half. The second half is all about hope.
Another way of thinking about it… The book of Isaiah is in two halves. Chapters 1-39 match the 39 books of the Old Testament in that it's a predominant message about God's judgment against humanity's sin. The last 27 chapters are like the 27 books of the New Testament, which is all about God's message of hope for humanity's soul.
Isn't that interesting the way it works out? If you're trying to understand, you can take that with you as you walk away today. The reason we're reading Isaiah 6 is we see the convergence of those two ideas, judgment and hope, in one singular moment, and we find how Isaiah is going to reconcile those two ideas together. The way he does is through God's holiness.
With all that said, let's jump into it. Verse 1: **"In the year that King Uzziah died I saw the Lord sitting upon a throne, high and lifted up; and the train of his robe filled the temple. Above him stood the seraphim. Each had six wings: with two he covered his face, and with two he covered his feet, and with two he flew."**
I know you didn't hear a word I just read to you because you're entranced by what's happening behind me. You're wondering to yourself, "Is that supposed to be God in Lego style?" Yes, that's exactly what it's supposed to be. I cannot say whether or not God has a long white beard, but this is what AI cooked up when we wanted to depict this story to our younger friends in the room in the most kid-friendly way possible.
What you need to know is when we read narrative moments of literature like this, you need to really put yourself into the story. You need to see the characters and understand the dialogue and try to imagine the setting, so we wanted to help do that. This will serve kids, but, parents, it'll help you as well. Let's keep reading. Verse 3: **"And one called to another and said: 'Holy, holy, holy is the Lord of hosts; the whole earth is full of his glory!'"** You see, the seraphim make this massive claim in this moment. They say that God is holy. That claim changes everything for Isaiah in this moment.
1\. _God's holiness puts everything into perspective_. Isaiah is in the throne room of God. It says this is in the year King Uzziah died, which seems like a really small detail that we typically just blitz by, but it's meaningful, because King Uzziah was the greatest king in the nation of Judah since the time of King Solomon.
What God is telling Isaiah is, "Hey, you think _that_ guy is great. No, _I'm_ great. He's a great king, but I am the greatest King. I am the King of Kings." It tells us that he was high and lifted up. Meaning, he is second class to no one. He is top shelf. He's the best there is. He is matchless beyond compare.
It even goes on to describe to us that the train of his robe filled the temple. What does that mean? Historically speaking, the longer your train was, the bigger the sign of significance it meant. It communicated that you were wealthy or royal. God's train fills the temple. There's not a place within the temple you can walk where you're not stepping on the fabric of his robe. It's communicating to us that God's train is not just long; it is limitless. He is majestic beyond compare.
As we keep reading, we see Isaiah doesn't just communicate to us what he _sees_; he also communicates to us what he _hears_. He hears the seraphim cry out, "Holy, holy, holy." The word for _holy_ in Hebrew is the word _qadowsh_. It just means distinct or set apart. What he's wanting to communicate in this moment is that God is completely other. He is not just one of a kind; he is of another kind altogether. There's no one like God, not anyone at any time and in any place, past, present, or future. He is altogether different, and in the best way possible.
Jeremiah says it like this when you read later on in _his_ letter: **"There is none like you, O Lord; you are great, and your name is great in might. Who would not fear you, O King of the nations?"** See, he calls him _King_. **"For this is your due; for among all the wise ones of the nations and in all their kingdoms there is none like you."**
You see, it's not just that God is set apart. That's true, but he is supremely set apart. What do I mean by that? Well, these seraphim could have just said, "Holy," but they don't. They go, "Holy, holy, holy." They speak in superlative, and they give you a threefold repetition, the only time a threefold repetition is used in the entire Old Testament. The reason they do is they are trying to communicate intensity. They want to emphasize something that's true about God.
We do this all the time in our own lives. We'll say things like, "I will never, ever, ever do that again." What are we trying to do? We are trying to emphasize the depth of our apology. Or we'll say, "We did that over and over and over." What are we implying? That someone made us repeat something again and again and again. I just said it without even meaning to say it. Do you hear what I'm saying? This happens all the time.
When we use this kind of language, we're emphasizing something that's true. These angels are saying, "Holy, holy, holy." God is perfect. He is absolutely perfect. What's fascinating is we never read "God is love, love, love. He's mercy, mercy, mercy. He's grace, grace, grace. He's power, power, power." We never read those things, though they are true. What we learn about God's holiness in this moment is it is the most intrinsically true quality of his being. It's not just the _expression_ of who he is; it is the _essence_ of who he is.
God is holy, which just simply means he gets to set the standard. He's absolutely perfect, so he sets the standard on everything in life. Think about it like this. Tiger sets the standard on golf or Gandhi sets the standard on activism or Aretha sets the standard on vocals or Jimi Hendrix sets the standard on guitar or Michael Jordan sets the standard on basketball or Steve Jobs sets the standard on innovation. We could keep going. We could all point to different people who have set the standard in some respective field that we measure ourselves against.
Here's what's crazy. As I list some of those, some of you are kind of brooding where you're at. "Hold on, man. You think MJ set the standard? Have you seen LeBron? Aretha? What about my girl Whitney?" You are already disputing within your seats even some of the claims I've made, because we can dispute mankind's greatness. Do you know who we cannot dispute the greatness of? God. God's greatness is indisputable. There's no one like him. He is matchless in every way, shape, and form.
He sets the standard for everything. He sets the standard for how you love your wife, men. He sets the standard for how you respect your husband, ladies. He sets the standard for how you engage with your coworkers or talk to your neighbors. He sets the standard for the thoughts you think, the music you listen to, the ways you entertain your evenings. He sets the standard for everything. It's the reason why, if you grew up singing from a hymnal, the first hymn was "Holy, Holy, Holy," because it sets the standard for everything else you'll sing.
His holiness puts everything into perspective, perspective on your life and perspective on yourself, which is what we see happen to Isaiah as we keep going. It says this in verses 4-5: **"And the foundations of the thresholds shook at the voice of him who called, and the house was filled with smoke."** Which is a sign of the presence of God.
**"And I said: 'Woe is me! For I am lost; for I am a man of unclean lips, and I dwell in the midst of a people of unclean lips; for my eyes have seen the King, the Lord of hosts!'"** What happens to Isaiah in this moment? He sees God rightly, so he sees himself rightly as a result. That's the way this thing works out, which brings us to our second point.
2\. _Clarity of God brings clarity of self_. When you read through the story, you see observation after observation. You see how everything responds in light of what it sees in God. You see that the seraphim hide their face and their feet. You find that the pillars of the temple begin to shake at the mention of God's name. You see that Isaiah himself freaks the ever-loving out. Everything responds to the presence of God.
Isaiah says, "I am lost!" which can also be translated in Hebrew as "I am silent," which is really saying something about Isaiah, because his voice was kind of his moneymaker. As a prophet, his job was to leverage his communication gift to serve God's people. His reputation, his identity, his whole purpose was built around this one facet of his being, yet in this moment, he has nothing to say. His greatest gift, his greatest strength, falls into forgetfulness at the face of God.
He doesn't even have… "I like the new robe, God. Personal security detail…they look tough." He has nothing to offer in this moment, and it's meaningful. Why? Because it's not just that he didn't have words to say; it's that Isaiah didn't have the worth to say them. At the sight of God, in all his holiness, even Isaiah's best strength, his voice, falls short. His lips are suddenly unclean. His words are suddenly too weak, and his voice falls silent. Have you ever been in a moment like that? Like, where in the presence of someone's greatness, you could hear a pin drop. No one said a word at all.
Several weeks ago, I was sitting in a room with a bunch of young pastors, and we were basking in the sage wisdom of 90-year-old Chuck Swindoll. No one said anything, which is crazy in a room like that, because they were all pastors. You know, they always have too much to say. They always go over time, or they always have some sort of counsel to offer. They're not uncomfortable leading in a room. Yet none of them said anything in that moment. The reason was because we were all hanging on the words of one who is greater than we.
Sure, there were some guys in that room who had authored books, but no one has something like 90 book titles to their name like Chuck. There were people in there who had preached to big crowds, but no one's voice is being broadcast to thousands of radio stations in multiple countries in multiple different languages like Chuck.
Some of us have preached in big rooms, can really preach the leather off the book, yet Chuck, next to Billy Graham, was voted one of the top two most influential pastors of the modern moment. You see, in the presence of his greatness, we sensed our smallness. That's what's happening to Isaiah. That's what happens to _you_ whenever you become confronted by God, only to an infinitely greater degree.
Whatever your thing is… Maybe it's not your voice or communication gift, like Isaiah, but maybe it's your investment portfolio, your physical appearance, your athletic prowess, or it's your family life or the fact that you belong to _that_ club or you have _that_ many houses, or it's the position you have at the office, the promotion you picked up last week.
I don't know what it may be for you, but whatever your thing is, in the face of God, that is not something you pride yourself in; that is something you pity yourself for, because it is not enough. It cannot measure up in the face of him. He's infinitely greater, and it takes even our greatest good and riddles it to rubbish.
That can feel like really bad news…welcome to church, everybody…until you keep reading. It says in verses 6-7, **"Then one of the seraphim flew to me, having in his hand a burning coal that he had taken with tongs from the altar. And he touched my mouth and said: 'Behold, this has touched your lips; your guilt is taken away, and your sin atoned for.'"** I don't know if seraphim look like a bird, but like any good Christian media, we reserve the right to artistic license. Okay?
It's interesting. When you read through this, Isaiah recognizes just how desperate his situation is. He realizes, "Man, I'm up a creek without a paddle. I have no good I can give to God." Despite the fact that he realizes just how sinful he is, he doesn't do what we normally would do. He doesn't beg for forgiveness or hit his knees and submit himself to God. He doesn't vow to never do it again. He doesn't do any of those things, which is completely implausible.
I don't know about you, but on the rare occasion that I upset my wife and do something that hurts her, you will find in me the most helpful man that exists on planet earth. I will scrub dishes and do the laundry. I will clean gutters and hang ceiling fans and prep dinner and buy flowers. I will do it all, because I want to get back in her good graces. I want to earn her forgiveness, her favor.
Isaiah doesn't do that in this moment. Isn't that interesting? He doesn't cook up 10 steps on how to get back in good position with God. He doesn't make some grand gesture and vow to never sin again. He doesn't do that. All he does is bring to God a heart of contrition, a heart of remorse over his sin. What we find is that's enough, because…
3\. _We're saved by God's offering, not our own_. Notice, it tells us in what way Isaiah's sin was atoned for, his guilt was taken away. How did it come? It came through a burning coal from the altar. I grew up camping. Loved every moment of it…skiing on the lake, cooking up food, spending time with family. I always looked forward to the end of the day because we would often build a fire.
It was something within the fire that I enjoyed the most. It wasn't just cooking s'mores or telling stories fireside. My favorite thing about building fires and sitting beside them was waiting until after all the kindling had been gathered and all the wood had been burned and all of the flames had died out, and lying there at the bed of it all were these red-hot, glowing coals. They were mystifying to me. I was enchanted by the thought of them. I always wanted to grab one, but that would be a terrible idea.
You see, a coal tells you something. A coal represents a fire that has been burned. A coal from the altar represents a sacrifice that has already been offered. Do you see that? Who offered the sacrifice? Not Isaiah. Then it must be God. God offered a sacrifice for Isaiah's sake. He testifies to the heart of him willing to do this.
He says in Isaiah 57 later on (which you're going to read in the coming days), **"For this is what the high and exalted One says—he who lives forever, whose name is holy: 'I live in a high and holy place, but also with the one who is contrite and lowly in spirit, to revive the spirit of the lowly and to revive the heart of the contrite.'"** Isn't that amazing? God transcendent becomes God immanent. He isn't just high and exalted; he is laid down low, because he wants to reach those who cannot reach him. It's a beautiful thought.
God knows. He's like, "Hey, you can do nothing to satisfy my holy wrath against your sin. You are all under judgment. You can't offer a sacrifice. You can't offer me some service. You can't perform some sacrament in order to get into my good grace. Though you can do nothing, I can do everything. Though you are unholy, I will be holy in your place. I can save those who cannot save themselves, and I will do so by way of an offering _I_ can give, not an offering _they_ can give."
That offering comes in the form of Jesus. We see in Christ one who is holy like God is holy, for he is God himself. We see in Jesus one who is set apart. "Set apart for what, Kylen?" He is set apart with the right perspective. He sees the holiness of God, so he sees with the right perspective. He sees within our world a people that cannot fulfill the righteous requirement of the law.
No one can do good, so Christ steps in and says, "I will do good for them. Where they cannot be perfect like my Father, I will be perfect on their behalf." Jesus is set apart. He is set apart with a clarity. He sees God clearly, so he sees us clearly. He knows the wages of our sin is death, so he willingly, voluntarily, puts himself upon the cross, a Roman execution rack, so that he might die your death and you might receive from him his life.
Jesus is not just set apart for _these_ things, but he is also set apart to save. Yes, set apart to offer to you his death on the cross, but also offer to you his life, which he has taken up by his own hand, for he has risen forth from the grave. He looks at any who would believe in him and says, "You can be with me forever. You can have life everlasting, and it doesn't just begin the day you go to heaven; it begins right now." That's the kind of offer Christ has made.
We see in Jesus one who has come for a people who have offended God, yet though they are under God's judgment, they can also have hope, for though the holiness of God is dreadful to the lost, it is beautiful to the found. We see in him a love that would go any length to get to us. Let me pray that you would know that length today.
God, we're grateful for today. I pray, Lord, that you would speak from your Word, that you would minister to every heart in this room, from the oldest of us to the youngest of us. God, I pray that you would purge from us any apathy toward these truths, and I pray, God, that you would stir within us a zeal that says, "If that's how far he would go to get to me, then why should I withhold anything about myself? Let me believe, let me trust, and let me follow for the rest of my days." We love you, Jesus, and it's to you we sing now. In Christ's name, amen.