Jason Ault is a development representative for Mennonite Mission Network. This blog is a revised version of a sermon that Ault gave at his home church, First Christian Church of Wellington in Wellington, Kansas, on January 19.
Listen to the original sermon on Facebook.
There are certain moments when we remember “before and after” — when there was a very distinct difference in life prior to and following a certain event. Two dates induce a visceral reaction for me: 9/11 and 2020.
The Scripture passage of Isaiah 6 starts by referencing the year that King Uzziah died. It means nothing to our 21st-century ears, but that is the year that things started unraveling for the people of Judah and the city of Jerusalem. David’s unified kingdom split into two rival kingdoms — Israel to the north and Judah to the south. The year King Uzziah died, the Empire of Assyria invaded the northern Kingdom of Israel and took a huge chunk of the kingdom captive. Assyria kept coming, capturing more land and slaughtering the people. They destroyed the Kingdom of Israel and laid siege to the city of Jerusalem. It was a horrible time for the people of Judah. Everything the people thought was right and normal was getting turned upside down. It was their 9/11. It was their 2020.
God had a stern message for the people of Judah. Here is a summary: “Okay, Judah. I called you to be my people, to be a light to the nations. I planted you like a vineyard to produce the sweet wine of my love to all people. And you blew it. Now, you are too far gone. The consequences of your destructive behavior are coming and I’m going to let it. You will be cut down by the invaders and all that will remain will be a stump. But, someday, a faithful shoot will rise from the stump.”
The people needed to readjust their perspective. God had a clear standard by which nations would be judged. And it was this: Did your system seek justice by rescuing the oppressed, defending the orphan, and pleading for the widow? Or did your system make the rich and powerful more rich and powerful at the expense of the weak?
In verse 6, when Isaiah encountered God, he crumbled in fear. “Woe is me! I am lost, for I am a man of unclean lips, and I live among a people of unclean lips.” We might call this a position of confession, repentance, contrition, or remorse. The seraphim then flew to Isaiah and placed a fiery coal at Isaiah’s lips. Oddly enough, the fire did not consume Isaiah but rather purified him. The seraphim told Isaiah, “See, this has touched your lips; your guilt is taken away and your sin atoned for.” Finally, the voice of the Lord called out, saying “Who shall I send and who will go for us?” Isaiah responded, “Here I am, Lord. Send me.”
This passage is important to me because it was the scripture theme of a church camp I attended during the summer after my freshman year of high school. That week was one of my personal before-and-after moments. I was in a tough spot in life at that point. I was a minister’s son who got all the usual teasing of being a goody-two-shoes kid. I did not feel like I had many friends in my school. Even worse, my grades slipped to a level below what I should have achieved. I needed something good in my life, and that week of church camp was it.
I made many close friendships within my small group and the larger camp community. I could be myself with all my weird quirks and still receive love and acceptance. It is not an exaggeration to say that strangers on Monday became family by Saturday, people who I hope to know and love for the rest of my life.
Last fall, I experienced what I hope will be another “before-and-after moment” in my life. Mennonite Mission Network offers a learning tour program called Just Peace Pilgrimage, in which attendees can learn about different social topics and how our faith plays into that. The Mission Network development team went on a Civil Rights history tour through the Deep South in 2024. As a student of history, particularly with World War II to the present, so I anticipated being fascinated with the subject material. As a person of faith, I braced myself for the heaviness and ugliness that I would encounter. And oh, was it heavy and ugly.
After coming home, I was in a bad mood as I was still processing my experience. My wife told me, “You really have changed since that trip.” I replied, “Yeah, that was the point.”
On this trip, I learned a lot about some of the usual key figures in civil rights history: Martin Luther King Jr., Rosa Parks, Malcolm X. But I was inspired by many unsung heroes like like James Chaney, Leroy Clemons, Andrew Goodman, Viola Liuzzo, Michael Schwerner, Arthur St. Clair.— ordinary people who did extraordinary things in pursuit of racial justice and equality. Those people either faced grave danger or even lost their lives for it. People who might have said in their own lives, “Here I am, Lord — send me” as they stared down the evilness of bigotry.
Let’s think about that in terms of Christianity. There are names that everyone knows who changed the world through their Christian faith. People like St. Francis of Assisi, Billy Graham, Martin Luther, and Mother Theresa. But let’s think about some of the saints in our own lives. Those ordinary people who have done and continue to do extraordinary things within their lives to teach us about God’s love through their own words and actions. I think of people in my life, some of whom are still dear ones here on this Earth and others who have earned their eternal reward. Could you imagine how humbling it must be to have your name included on someone else’s list like that? Not for arrogance, but we all hope and pray that something within our seemingly ordinary lives has helped others in their Christian walk.
I encourage you to seek God’s will through prayer and reflection. Be open to what your purpose can be, to how and where you can make a difference…so that you can shout it from the mountaintops, “Here I am, Lord! Send me!”
