But this is the one to whom I will look:
he who is humble and contrite in spirit
and trembles at my word. (Isaiah 66:2, ESV)
I don’t have a lot to say today, except that this promise is sort of amazing.
I love it.
The God who made everything – all the Heavens and all the earth and all the weird animals that I love (including Grumpy Cat) – He sets His gaze upon those who fit this job description: humble, contrite and trembling at His Word.
This verse sings a song so different from the lullaby of the world.
The world says – forget about humility.
Instead, believe in the good within ourselves, to find inside of us an inner greatness. The world whispers that we can do anything we want; that we can build a tower all the way to Heaven if we set our minds to it.
And God sings a different song. Humble yourselves, He sings. Diminish. Decrease. Feel your insufficiency. So that He might increase. So that we might find ourselves lost inside of Him.
Who cares about a contrite spirit?
The world calls us to step up our game if we want to be seen. We must never fail, or if we do – make sure it’s only the acceptable kind of failure and then push it away and pretend it doesn’t matter to God.
We quiet conviction with a superficial version of the Gospel.
And God’s Word responds: this is the one to whom I will look – the one who knows their failure; the one who feels the fullness of remorse; who hates their sin. God will look to the one who clings to conviction – not as an enemy of unease or unrest – but as a treasured sense of the Spirit of God moving inside.
Only legalistic pharisees tremble at His Word.
The world proclaims that God is safe and friendly. The world sings to us of a God without holiness.
And yet God’s Word speaks. It calls out that it is only those who have never tasted Him who have no fear of Him. Those who know Him, fear Him.
And to these – given by His grace a sense of humility, repentance and fear – to these the great news of our glorious Gospel will shine out of the darkness with a blinding light.
What a miracle it is: to be seen by Him. We find ourselves trembling before Him with nothing hidden from His gaze and He responds: reaching down and wrapping His own righteousness around our frail figures.
He sees us. And by the blood of His Son, He lifts our faces and rubs our eyes and grants us the sight to see Him as well.