In the year of King Uzziah’s death I saw the Lord seated on a high and lofty throne; his train filled the sanctuary. Above him stood seraphs, each one with six wings: two to cover its face, two to cover its feet and two for flying; and they were shouting these words to each other: Holy, holy, holy is Yahweh Sabaoth. His glory fills the whole earth. The door-posts shook at the sound of their shouting, and the Temple was full of smoke. Then I said: ‘Woe is me! I am lost, for I am a man of unclean lips and I live among a people of unclean lips, and my eyes have seen the King, Yahweh Sabaoth.’ Then one of the seraphs flew to me, holding in its hand a live coal which it had taken from the altar with a pair of tongs. With this it touched my mouth and said: ‘Look, this has touched your lips, your guilt has been removed and your sin forgiven.’ I then heard the voice of the Lord saying: ‘Whom shall I send? Who will go for us?’ And I said, ‘Here am I, send me.’ (Isaiah 6:1-8)

At the turn of the sixteenth century Copernicus formulated the theory that, contrary to appearances, the sun does not revolve around the earth, but the earth goes round the sun. In the same way, when we search for what we should do in life, we at first place ourselves at the centre of our world, and try to make sense of it, while perhaps thinking that God is part of our life. Then we can experience our own “Copernican revolution”: we realise that God is not part of our life, rather we are part of God’s life.

The story of Isaiah’s vocation is written in incredible language, that of a vision, but it describes just that change of perspective present in the discovery, and continual re-discovery, of our own vocation. It is the story of the awakening of a human being to his or her true situation over against reality. The veil is removed and Isaiah glimpses the reality of God. It is a vision of something so perfect that all at once he sees, by contrast, his own deep imperfection – “Woe is me!” It can bring to mind Jesus’ story of the two men praying in the Temple (Luke 18:9-14), in which the tax collector is acutely conscious of his need for healing.

Paradoxically, it is when Isaiah admits his great distance from God that the way opens for him to receive forgiveness. And this forgiveness, described as a burning coal, leaves an indelible mark on his life.

One of the effects of realising how unworthy I am is to transform the way I look on other people. I realise that the gap between God and me is so much greater – of another order altogether – than whatever separates me from any other person. And that realisation also burns – burns away any judgmental attitude towards others.

The story shows something astonishing about our relationship with God. Human beings are very imperfect, and yet we stand in a place of freedom with the power to say “Yes” or “No” to God. The vocation which Isaiah discovers comes from an unexpected direction. Rather than just “finding what is right for him”, he is set free to join in something much wider: God’s own work – “Whom shall I send? Who will go for us?” Like others sent by God, he will discover a strength which overcomes personal timidity and which is unknown to those who are set on devising their own course through life.

 When have you realised that your life is centred on God, rather than the other way round?

 In which situations do you wish to find the freedom of looking non-judgmentally?

 Where do you hear God saying, “Whom shall I send? Who will go for us?”