Listen to last week’s sermon: Three Things that Happen in the Presence of the Lord found in Isaiah 6:1-8

On a very warm July day, specifically July 13th, 2025, the congregation of New Beginning Church settled into their pews, anticipating Pastor Eric’s weekly message. He stepped up to the pulpit, a genuine smile gracing his face, and began, “Today is truly one of my favourite services to conduct, as we are celebrating a profound and joyous occasion: the decision of six individuals to publicly affirm their faith. These six have each answered ‘yes’ to Jesus, and they have now chosen to take the significant step of water baptism.” He paused, allowing his words to resonate with the audience. “Baptism is not a casual act; it’s a vital step on the path of discipleship, following the acceptance of Jesus into your heart and life. To illustrate its meaning, I often compare it to another powerful commitment: marriage. How many of you can relate to the concept of marriage?” He scanned the sanctuary, acknowledging the knowing nods and smiles. “Marriage, right? Consider the beautiful ceremony that takes place when two people decide to unite their lives. When you attend a wedding, you’re witnessing a culmination, not a beginning. It’s not the first day the couple fell in love. On the contrary, their love story has been unfolding for months, perhaps years! The wedding ceremony is the public declaration, the outward manifestation of an inward commitment. It’s their way of sharing with the world that they are deeply in love and dedicated to building a life together, a promise to remain committed to one another for the rest of their days. The ceremony itself formalizes and celebrates that preexisting bond.” Pastor Eric then brought the analogy full circle. “Baptism is, in many ways, similar. It is not the moment of salvation itself. These six individuals are not getting saved because they are being baptized today. That is a crucial point I want to emphasize. Their salvation occurred when they first believed, when they opened their hearts to Jesus and accepted Him as their Lord and Saviour. But baptism is their opportunity to boldly share with the world that they have made a conscious and deliberate decision to follow Christ. It’s an outward sign of an inward grace, a public testament to a life transformed by faith. It is a statement that says, ‘I am identifying myself with Christ, His death, burial, and resurrection, and I am choosing to live a new life in Him.” 

“Over the years”, Pastor Eric said, “I’ve learned about pacing things… I know, without a doubt, that if we plunge straight into the baptism – the main event, the emotional peak – then I simply won’t be able to preach effectively afterward. It’ll all fall flat. It’s like offering dessert before dinner. If you start with the sweetest, richest thing, forget about trying to get anyone interested in eating their potatoes and vegetables, right? They’ll be too saturated with sweetness, too full of that initial rush to appreciate the substance and nourishment that comes later. I’ve learned my lesson the hard way, in the past. I’ve made that mistake, rushed to the climax, and ended up with a congregation too emotionally drained, too satisfied with the initial fervour to truly listen and engage with the more complex message I want to deliver. So, no, we have to build to the baptism, prepare the ground, so to speak, so that when it comes, it resonates deeply and leaves room for reflection, for further spiritual growth, instead of simply being a fleeting moment of intense feeling.”

Read Matthew 28:19-20

“Baptism, as many of you know, isn’t just a ritual; it’s a profoundly significant act, a vibrant symbol of the transformation that occurs when we dedicate our lives to the Lord Jesus Christ. It’s a public declaration, a visible testament to inward reality, but beyond being a personal expression of faith, baptism also plays a crucial role in the grand scheme of God’s plan, deeply connected to what we know as The Great Commission. The Great Commission, my friends, isn’t just a suggestion or a polite request; it’s a mandate. It’s our marching orders, straight from the highest authority, from Jesus Himself. It’s one of the very last things Jesus imparted to His disciples before His ascension. To understand its importance, imagine this: You’re an entrepreneur, a leader, and you’re about to embark on a two-week trip. You gather your team, knowing that your time with them is limited. What do you do? You prioritize, right? You focus on the absolutely essential information, the things that simply cannot be overlooked. Think about it: If you don’t have much time, if the clock is ticking and your departure is imminent, you meticulously remind your team of the most crucial responsibilities. ‘Don’t forget to finalize that contract.’ ‘Don’t forget to submit the quarterly reports’. ‘Don’t forget to follow up with those key clients.’ Little things, too, the practical details that ensure everything runs smoothly in your absence: ‘Don’t forget to turn off the lights in the conference room.’ ‘Don’t forget to lock the door at night.’ These are essential instructions, the details that guarantee continued success and prevent potential chaos. Well, in a much grander and infinitely more important context, right before Jesus ascends to heaven, He gives His marching orders to His Church. He doesn’t waste time on trivial matters. He focuses on the core mission, the purpose for which He established the Church. He says, and I quote, ‘Go, and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you. And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age’ (Matthew 28:19-20). Think about the weight of those words! He’s not just asking us to tell people about Him; He’s calling us to actively make disciples – followers, learners, students of Jesus. And a key component of that discipleship process, a vital step on that journey, is baptism. It’s an outward sign of an inward commitment, a tangible demonstration of a heart transformed.

So, today, we get to participate in this Great Commission. We get to witness and celebrate the profound act of baptism, and we get to be reminded of our shared responsibility to go, make disciples, baptize, and teach. It’s a privilege, a sacred trust, and a powerful expression of our faith. We aren’t just following tradition; we are actively participating in the fulfillment of Christ’s final command and sharing in the blessing of His abiding presence.

“So, today is a truly special day! A day filled with joy and a visible demonstration of faith. We get to baptize six people. We get to stand here together, as a community, and witness their commitment, their public declaration of love and devotion to God. And, of course, we get to celebrate! We’ll celebrate their new beginning, their chosen path, their embrace of a life lived in Christ. So, that beautiful and moving event is to come. It’s the highlight, the culmination of a journey for these six individuals. But”, he paused, a knowing smile playing on his lips, “right before we get to that ‘dessert’, let me share some ‘meat and potatoes’ with you. Let me nourish your souls with a little bit of Scripture and reflection before we partake in that exciting, uplifting moment. Before we witness that visible sign of transformation, I’d like to delve into what truly happens to a person, the incredible changes that occur, when he or she is dedicated to seeking the manifested presence of God in his or her life. What happens to a young man filled with the potential and promise of tomorrow, or to a young woman seeking guidance and purpose, or indeed, to any person, regardless of age or background, who daily seeks, daily pursues with intention, and daily practices the art of seeking the presence of God? What does that kind of unwavering devotion unlock? What doors does it open? What blessings does it invite?”

Read Isaiah 6:1-8 and Revelation 4:8

“To help us explore this profound question,” Pastor Eric continued, reaching for his Bible, “if you have your Bibles with you, I invite you to turn with me to the book of Isaiah, chapter 6, verses 1 through 8. This passage is a powerful vision and it offers us valuable insights into the power of seeking God’s presence. Are we all there? Good. Now, let’s read: ‘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.’ Think about that for a moment. The year King Uzziah died. Uzziah was a powerful king, a figure of stability and strength for Judah. His death would have created a sense of uncertainty and perhaps even fear. It’s in this moment of national vulnerability, of loss and transition, that Isaiah receives this incredible vision. The earthly kingdom is faltering, but Isaiah is given a glimpse of a far greater, eternal kingdom, a kingdom ruled by the Almighty God. And what a vision it is! Isaiah doesn’t just see a king; he sees the Lord, ‘high and exalted, seated on a throne.’ This isn’t a throne like any earthly throne. This is a throne representing absolute authority, majesty, and power. And the train of His robe…it fills the entire Temple! Think about the sheer scale of that. It’s not just a long robe; it’s a symbol of God’s overwhelming presence, His infinite glory, overflowing and encompassing everything. Let’s continue. ‘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. And they were calling to one another: ‘Holy, holy, holy is the Lord Almighty; the whole earth is full of his glory.’ The seraphim! What magnificent creatures! These aren’t the chubby, cherubic angels we often see depicted in stores and books. These are powerful, awe-inspiring beings whose very appearance reflects the glory and holiness of God. Notice the detail: six wings. Two covering their faces, symbolizing reverence and humility in the presence of such holiness. They dare not look directly upon the unveiled glory of God. Two covering their feet, a sign of submission and unworthiness. And two wings for flying, ready to instantly obey and carry out God’s commands. And what are they doing? They are perpetually declaring the holiness of God: ‘Holy, holy, holy is the Lord Almighty; the whole earth is full of his glory!’ They are not just saying it once; they are continually crying it out, emphasizing the absolute, unparalleled holiness of God. The repetition underscores the intensity and the unending nature of God’s holiness. And the phrase ‘the whole earth is full of His glory’ reminds us that God’s presence is not confined to the Temple; it permeates all creation. The next verse: ‘At the sound of their voices the doorposts and thresholds shook and the temple was filled with smoke.’ The power of their voices, resonating with the holiness of God, is so immense that the very foundations of the Temple shake! The doorposts and thresholds – the physical structures that represent the entrance to God’s presence – tremble before the might of His glory. And the Temple is filled with smoke, a visible manifestation of God’s holiness and presence, a reminder of the unapproachable glory of God that both reveals and conceals. ‘Woe to me!’ Isaiah cries out in response. This is the appropriate reaction to encountering such holiness. It’s a moment of profound realization of his own sinfulness and inadequacy in the face of God’s perfect purity. He is overwhelmed by his own unworthiness. By the way, it’s important to remember that there are different kinds of angels mentioned in the Bible. There’s a hierarchy, a diversity of angelic beings. There are many different ranking angels in the Bible, each with specific roles and responsibilities. They don’t all have six wings, but this type of angel, the seraphim, for their function and their role as guardians of God’s holiness, had six wings. Some angels, in other visions and accounts, are described with different features, like four faces, representing different aspects of God’s character or dominion. They are not the cute angels wearing white clothes and a halo that we often see depicted. Forget that sentimentalized image. You get all kinds of creatures and angels in the Bible when you study them carefully, a vast and awe-inspiring celestial host. So, these particular angels, the seraphim in Isaiah’s vision, have six wings and serve a very specific purpose in declaring and guarding the holiness of God.”

“I’d like to share with you today, three profound transformations that occur when we find ourselves bathed in the presence of God, insights drawn directly from the powerful prophecies of Isaiah.” Pastor Eric paused allowing his words to settle amongst the congregation. “These aren’t just theoretical concepts, my friends, but living, breathing realities that can radically alter your spiritual walk.” He raised a hand, his fingers extended, counting off the points he was about to make. “First, and perhaps most profoundly, you get a fresh revelation of God.”

The profound transformations are:

1 – We get a fresh revelation of God.

Read Revelation 4:2-3 and Psalm 47:8

In the presence of the Lord, we receive a renewed and vibrant vision of who God truly is. We often get bogged down in our daily routines, our earthly concerns, and our preconceived notions of faith, but when we truly seek His presence, the scales fall from our eyes. His majesty, His holiness, His unparalleled glory are revealed in ways that deeply transform our understanding of Him. These aren’t just words on a page; they become tangible experiences, reshaping our perspectives and igniting a renewed passion within us.” He referenced the scriptural source, adding to provide context. “Consider the vivid imagery we encounter within the book of Isaiah. ‘I saw the Lord sitting upon a throne.’ Think about that for a moment.” He allowed the phrase to linger in the air, giving it time to sink in. “The Lord is sitting on a throne. What does that image evoke? Who, traditionally, sits on a throne? A king sits on a throne. Important people sit on a throne. Powerful people sit on a throne. Rulers sit on a throne! It’s a symbol of authority, dominion, and ultimate control. And Isaiah saw God, not just standing by, but enthroned in all His power and glory. God sits on a throne! It’s a visual representation of His sovereignty over all creation, a reminder that He is the ultimate authority in our lives and in the universe.” Pastor Eric shifted his weight slightly, a personal anecdote forming on his lips. “Speaking of respect and understanding the weight of position, I was recently privileged to attend a meeting in Quebec. It was a gathering of diverse leaders, and among them was one of our esteemed POC pastors who diligently provides leadership and guidance to several churches. This pastor was asked to lead us in prayer.” He smiled, remembering the moment vividly. “And the first thing he did – he asked all the pastors in the room to stand. He didn’t just launch into a prayer; he paused, considered, and then said, ‘We are going to pray together, let’s stand. There was a murmur of acknowledgment, a slight shuffling of feet, and everyone respectfully rose to their feet. But then,” Pastor Eric paused for emphasis, “he shared with us why he had asked us to stand.” 

Pastor Eric recounted a powerful anecdote about prayer posture, recalling the pastor saying, “The reason I don’t pray sitting down anymore is that the only ones who sit are those on a throne.” Pastor Eric emphasized the profound implications of this statement, exclaiming, “This is deep!” He unpacked the meaning: sitting, in this context, signifies importance, power, and authority. Only individuals of high standing, those with significant influence, and ultimately, God Himself, are entitled to sit. Therefore, standing during prayer becomes an act of reverence, a posture of awe and submission before the Almighty. He then transitioned to scriptural evidence, grounding his idea in the Bible. He highlighted the numerous references to God’s throne, specifically citing Revelation 4:2-3. He quoted John’s vision: “At once I was in the Spirit, and there before me was a throne in heaven with someone sitting on it. And the one who sat there had the appearance of jasper and ruby. A rainbow that shone like an emerald encircled the throne.” This passage vividly paints a picture of God’s celestial throne, emphasizing the dazzling beauty and overwhelming power emanating from the One who sits upon it. John’s description underscores the majesty and glory of God, visually reinforcing the idea of His supreme authority. Pastor Eric then further bolstered his argument with another scriptural reference, Psalm 47:8. He identified the authors, a group of Levites knowns as the sons of Korah, who were responsible for leading worship in the Temple. They declared, “God reigns over the nations. God is seated on his holy throne.” This declaration reinforces the universal dominion of God and further solidifies the connection between His position on the throne and His absolute rule over all creation. It establishes the throne as the symbolic seat of His sovereignty. Then, Pastor Eric pivoted to a more somber reflection, offering a cautionary ‘application’ of the throne imagery. He warned of a future tribulation awaiting those who reject Christ. He stated, “There is going to be a terrible time for those who reject Christ, who refuse Him as their Lord and Saviour.” The implication is clear: those who deny Christ’s authority and refuse to acknowledge Him as Lord will face divine judgment. The throne, in this context, becomes a symbol not just of power and glory, but also of ultimate accountability and the final judgment. Denying Christ is ultimately rejecting the One who sits on the throne, with severe consequences. The throne, therefore, serves as both a symbol of hope for believers and a warning to unbelievers.

Read Revelation 20:11 and Philippians 2:9-11 (ESV)

In Revelation 20:11, John declares with resounding certainty, “Then I saw a great white throne and him who was seated on it. The earth and the heavens fled from His presence, and there was no place for them.” This isn’t just a fleeting glimpse, but a stark pronouncement of a coming judgment, a day of reckoning for all who consciously and persistently reject the saving grace offered through Christ. Nothing in creation can stand firm when confronted with the unmatched power of His holiness and justice. But even before this final judgement, throughout history, prophets have been granted visions of God’s majesty. Consider, Isaiah, a man deeply flawed yet chosen to stand in the very presence of the Almighty. He wasn’t witnessing destruction; he was granted a glimpse of eternal power. Watch what else he sees. He’s in the presence of God, not cowering in fear, but receiving a renewed, intensified vision of God Himself. As we reflect on the concept of being in the presence of God, consider Isaiah’s experience: he sees Him, not as a distant, untouchable force, but actively seated on the throne, the seat of supreme authority. He sees God “high and lifted up”, a phrase resonating with power and exceeding all earthly limitations. He sees Him in His unparalleled greatness, His boundless power, His undeniable authority, and His breathtaking beauty. It’s not just a visual experience; it’s a revelation of God’s absolute authority, a confirmation that He is sovereign above all creation. He reigns supreme over the entire universe, from the smallest atom to the largest galaxy. He is infinitely far above human limitations, untouched by our frailties and imperfections. He is far above human wisdom, transcending the best that our minds can conceive. He is even far above the advancements of artificial intelligence, the creations of our ingenuity pale in comparison to His divine intellect. He is far above human understanding, a mystery that we can only begin to grasp through faith and revelation. He is above all earthly powers, all the kingdoms and empires that rise and fall are but specks of dust in the light of His glory. He is above everything and everyone else; no rival can stand before Him. His glory is unmatched, a radiant splendor that eclipses all other light. He is high and lifted up, a beacon of hope and truth in a world shrouded in darkness. And because of the love that He had for the world, Jesus also is high and lifted up on the cross, a suffering servant, who takes away the sins of the world. His name, Jesus, is high and lifted up. His name is above every other name, a name whispered with reverence by angels and proclaimed with joy by believers. It’s a name that carries the weight of salvation, the promise of redemption, and the hope of eternal life. To know His name is to know freedom, to know love, and to know forgiveness. 

“I want to continue”, Pastor Eric said, “I know I can camp here because you all love God and all know His glory is unmatched. Think about it: when we actively seek to draw near to God’s presence, when we intentionally quiet the noise of the world and open ourselves to Him, something profound happens. We receive a renewed vision, a fresh perspective, of who God truly is. The familiar becomes illuminated with new meaning, and we begin to more fully appreciate the immensity and complexity of His being. It’s not just about knowing about God, but about knowing Him, experiencing His presence in a tangible way. We can see this powerfully illustrated in Isaiah’s vision, a cornerstone of understanding God’s nature. He doesn’t just encounter a vague feeling of divinity; he witnesses a scene of celestial worship. Seraphim, angelic beings radiating divine power, call out to one another, proclaiming, ‘Holy, holy, holy is the Lord God Almighty.’ The repetition isn’t just for emphasis; it signifies the utter completeness, the absolute perfection of God’s holiness. It permeates every aspect of His being, defining everything He is. God is holy; holiness is not just an attribute He possesses, but the very essence of His nature. The vision goes even further. Isaiah receives a revelation of God as the ‘Lord of Hosts’. Now, if you delve into the study of God’s names, as some of you may know – we’ve even explored this in past series, dedicating time to understanding the significance of these titles – you’ll discover the incredible richness they reveal about God’s character. ‘Lord of Hosts’ is not just a label; it’s a window into His power and authority. ‘Lord of Hosts’ carries within it a multifaceted meaning. It translates to ‘Commander of Heaven’s Armies,’ painting a picture of God as a sovereign ruler, leading legions of celestial beings. It speaks to His ultimate power and control over all creation. But it’s not just about brute force; it also implies a protector and defender, a benevolent leader who fights for those He loves. He is the Holy One, actively engaged in the affairs of His people, ensuring their safety and wellbeing. And this particular aspect of God’s character, as revealed in the title ‘Lord of Hosts’, was particularly relevant to Isaiah and the nation of Israel at that specific moment in time. As we read in the first verse of Isaiah, chapter 6, ‘In the year that King Uzziah died…’ this marked a significant turning point. King Uzziah, for five decades, had been a strong and stable leader, bringing prosperity and security to the nation. His reign had been a golden age. His death left a void, a sense of uncertainty and vulnerability. The nation, accustomed to stability, was now faced with the fragility of earthly power. It was in this context of national instability and fear that Isaiah received his vision, a powerful reminder that even when earthly kingdoms crumble, God, the ‘Lord of Hosts’ remains sovereign, powerful, and utterly holy.”

The death of a leader, particularly one who has presided over a period of stability and prosperity, often throws a nation into turmoil. It’s a vulnerable moment, a time ripe with uncertainty and apprehension. The comfortable predictability of life evaporates, replaced by a gnawing anxiety about the future. People, accustomed to answers, are suddenly confronted with a barrage of questions. What will become of the economy? Who will lead us now? Will we maintain our standing in the world? These questions, echoing through the minds of many, give rise to a deep, widespread fear – a fear of the unknown, a fear of losing what they have, a fear of the potential for chaos. In such times of national instability, when the foundations of society seem to tremble, moments of profound revelation can occur. The passage speaks to such a moment in the life of Isaiah. The king, the symbol of stability and provider of prosperity, has passed. The familiar structure of leadership is gone, leaving a vacuum filled with doubt and concern. It is within this context of national anxiety and fear that Isaiah receives his powerful vision. He is granted a glimpse beyond the earthly realm, beyond the fleeting power of kings and kingdoms. He sees the true ruler, the ultimate authority: the Lord of Hosts, enthroned in majesty.

This vision is not merely a comforting image; it is a powerful message delivered at a crucial moment. It’s a reminder that while earthly rulers, with all their perceived power and influence, are ultimately transient, God’s reign is eternal. Kings may rise and fall, nations may crumble and be rebuilt, but God remains constant, unshaken by the tides of human history. His sovereignty extends over all creation, encompassing every nation, every individual, every circumstance. He is not subject to the same anxieties and insecurities that plague humanity. He is not destabilized by political upheaval or economic downturn. No matter what the circumstances, no matter how bleak the outlook, no matter where we find ourselves in the midst of chaos, God’s power and control remain absolute. He is a steadfast anchor in a storm-tossed sea, a source of unwavering hope in a world defined by change and uncertainty. Isaiah’s vision provides not just solace, but also a radical reorientation of perspective, urging him, and us, to place our trust not in the shifting sands of earthly power, but in the unyielding foundation of God’s eternal reign.

Read Matthew 24:4-8

“Listen”, Pastor Eric began again, his voice resonating with a careful blend of concern and conviction, “I want to say something that’s been heavy on my heart. Be careful, be incredibly discerning, about who you choose to listen to, especially in times of crisis, in times of uncertainty.” He leaned forward slightly, his eyes locking with individuals in the crowd. “There seems to be, what I call, ‘prophets of fear’ who seem to want to just…feed people with fear, panic, anxiety, and hopelessness. They thrive on instability, on the vulnerability that these moments create. They paint vivid pictures of doom and gloom, offering no real solutions, no genuine path forward.” He held up a hand, preempting the potential for misunderstanding. “And I am not talking about warnings. I’m not talking about preparedness. Prudence and awareness are vital; they are a responsible way to navigate uncertain times. Understanding potential risks and taking reasonable precautions is wise. What I am talking about is a deliberate and insidious attempt to cultivate fear for personal gain.” Pastor Eric’s voice took on a sharper edge. “I’m talking about people who seem to just create panic and fear in people without offering hope and truth. They sow seeds of terror, amplifying anxieties, and leaving people feeling utterly helpless. They dangle solutions that are often shallow, misleading, or outright fraudulent. And behind it all, there’s often a clear motive.” He paused, allowing his words to sink in. “And oftentimes, some people are in it for the money. They are there for the click bait, the sensationalized headlines that drive traffic to their websites. They are there for their next book, their next seminar, their next product to sell you something, and that is why they keep you afraid. They need you to remain in a state of perpetual fear, because they are positioning themselves as the only source of hope, the only solution to overcome your fear. They promise salvation from the very despair they helped create.” His tone softened again, conveying a deep sense of paternal concern. “Be careful of that, especially when we are living in uncertain and unstable times, times of crisis. This isn’t about blindly trusting everyone in authority; it’s about developing discernment, a critical eye, and a heart that seeks truth above sensationalism.” He then shifted his focus to Scripture. “If that is you, in Matthew 24:4-8, Jesus described what must take place concerning the signs of the end of the Age. He wasn’t shy about outlining the challenges that would precede His return. He paints the picture of rumours of war, nation against nation, tribulation, famines, earthquakes. A world seemingly spiraling out of control. And one of the things He said to His disciples is what? He warned them, didn’t He? He didn’t minimize the difficulties, but He gave them a directive amidst the chaos. He showed them how to be steadfast and true during trying times. He reminded them to not give into fear, and to look beyond the chaos to something far greater.”

The words of Jesus, recorded for us, paint a vivid, sometimes unsettling picture of the future. Reading them, one cannot help but feel a sense of apprehension. He speaks of trials, tribulations, and upheavals that would shake the very foundations of society. The prophecies, when considered in the light of current events, can indeed by alarming. “Wars and rumours of wars,” He foretold, “famines and earthquakes in various places” (Matthew 24:6-7). It’s enough to make anyone feel overwhelmed, to feel the ground shifting beneath their feet. And yet, amidst this cascade of potential chaos, he offers a profound and crucial instruction: “See that you are not alarmed.” This isn’t a dismissive wave of the hand, a casual suggestion to ignore the storm. No, it’s a deeply rooted encouragement to maintain perspective. Elsewhere, Jesus even urges His followers, particularly the Jews, to ‘look up’ when they see these signs manifesting, because their “redemption draws near”. There’s a profound sense of hope intertwined with the acknowledgement of difficulty. The original Greek phrase, “throh-ays-theh”, translated as “see that you are not alarmed”, carries a weight of understanding. It speaks directly to the heart of trouble, to the very essence of fear. It’s not simply about suppressing panic, but about actively choosing not to be consumed by it. Don’t be troubled in spirit, don’t be frightened to the point of inaction. Don’t let the anxieties of the world cripple your faith.

Read Philippians 4:7

“I feel compelled to speak to someone specifically here today”, Pastor Eric said, “someone wrestling with fear, with uncertainty, with a sense of impending doom. I may not know your name, or the specifics of your burden, but I know that within you lies the potential to connect with something far greater than your circumstances. When we actively and intentionally seek His presence, when we immerse ourselves in Him, regardless of what we’re facing – whether it’s a difficult diagnosis from the doctor, a precarious financial situation, a broken relationship, or a deep-seated personal struggle – when you receive, even for a moment, a clear vision of the Lord of Hosts, seated triumphantly on His eternal throne, then a profound realization dawns. You begin to understand that the fluctuations of the world, while real and impactful, do not ultimately dictate the course of your life or the trajectory of history. The Bank of Canada may raise its interest rates, causing financial strain and anxiety. We may be threatened by the specter of terrorism, casting a shadow of fear over our daily lives. Geopolitical tensions may escalate, with leaders threatening one another and the potential for conflict looming large. But in the midst of all this turmoil, remember this: God did not fall off His throne. His power remains absolute, His love unwavering, and His plan still unfolds. Now I want to be clear: I’m not advocating for recklessness, for ignoring sound judgment, or for abandoning wisdom in the face of adversity. We are called to be prudent, to be diligent, and to navigate the complexities of life with discernment. We must be wise stewards of what we have been given, but in our planning, in all our striving, let us never lose sight of the ultimate truth: that God is sovereign, that He is in control, and that He holds the future in His hands. Let the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus (Philippians 4:7). The Lord sees the entire landscape, the peaks and valleys, the smooth paths and the treacherous cliffs. He knows the currents that will tug at us, the storms that will batter us, the opportunities that will beckon us. And not only does He know, but He also holds. He holds our next breath in His hands, a profound and humbling thought. Each inhale, each exhale, a gift, a testament to His constant care. Pastor Eric then lifted his gaze, drawing the attention of the congregation heavenward. Isaiah, the prophet of old, saw the Lord of Hosts, the Commander of Angel Armies, seated on His throne, not perched precariously, not teetering on the edge, but firmly, eternally seated. A vision of power, of majesty, of unwavering authority. And in that vision, there was a promise: a promise of stability, of guidance, of unwavering love in the midst of a world that often feels like a ship tossed on a turbulent sea. Don’t let the troubles of this world eclipse the glory of the One who reigns above. Keep your eyes fixed on the throne.” 

“If you are here today,” Pastor Eric continued, “burdened by the heavy cloak of anxiety, gripped by the sudden terror of panic attacks, or haunted by the insidious whispers of fear that steal your sleep, you’re likely grappling with questions that feel insurmountable. The weight of those questions can be crushing: ‘How am I going to navigate this overwhelming situation? How am I ever going to conquer this mountain of debt that seems to grow daily? How am I even going to simply survive this current crisis, this storm that threatens to engulf me?’ In this moment of uncertainty, I want to offer you a powerful anchor, a lifeline of hope: practice walking intentionally, consciously, in the very presence of God. This isn’t just a platitude or a nice-sounding phrase; it’s a practical, life-altering discipline. As you cultivate this awareness of God’s nearness, something profound begins to shift within you. Not only will you experience a peace that surpasses all human understanding – a deep, abiding tranquility that defies logic and circumstances – but you will also be gifted with a renewed vision of God. You’ll begin to see Him not as a distant, detached observer, but as an intimately involved, powerful presence in your life. This renewed vision will dramatically change how you approach your problems. Now, let me be clear: walking in God’s presence doesn’t mean pretending your problems don’t exist. It doesn’t mean sticking your head in the sand and hoping everything magically disappears. You will look at your problems head-on. You are not going to be ignorant of your problems. There are some people, and perhaps you’ve encountered them, who are facing immense struggles but attempt to project an image of perfect ease, pretending everything is fine. They deny the reality of their pain. That is not what I’m teaching today. We are very aware of our problems. We know exactly what we are dealing with. We see our mountains – those seemingly insurmountable obstacles that block our path. We see our giants – those formidable adversaries that threaten to overwhelm us with fear and doubt. We see our challenges – those difficult circumstances that test our resilience and faith. But the crucial difference, the transformative shift, is that you are going to look at them from God’s perspective. You will not simply be defined by your problems, but you will view them through the lens of faith; because now, through your practice of walking in His presence, you have a vision of God enthroned – a vision of His power, His sovereignty, and His unwavering love. You see Him reigning over your circumstances, bigger than any mountain, stronger than any giant, and wiser than any challenge. And from that perspective, even the most daunting obstacles begin to shrink in comparison to the greatness of God. This isn’t just positive thinking; it’s a shift in perspective grounded in the reality of God’s presence and power. It’s knowing that you are not alone in the valley, but that the King of kings walks with you, guiding you, and equipping you to overcome.”

2 – We come to a clear understanding of our spiritual state.

When we consciously step into the presence of God, a profound shift occurs, a stripping away of pretense that allows us to see ourselves with startling clarity. It’s as if a mirror is held up to our souls, reflecting not the image we project to the world, but the often-uncomfortable truth of our inner landscape. We are confronted, perhaps for the first time, with the realities of our spiritual condition, the areas where we fall short, and the habits that hinder our relationship with Him. Pastor Eric’s memory of a young man in Montreal serves as a vivid illustration of this principle. He was known more for his sharp criticisms than his compassionate understanding. He possessed a keen eye for flaws, quick to point out hypocrisy in other Christians and shortcomings within the Church. His words, sometimes laced with truth and other times based on incomplete information or biased perception, constantly painted a negative picture. He seemed to derive a certain satisfaction from exposing what he perceived as the failings of others. It was a pattern, a constant stream of judgment flowing from his lips. Then, something extraordinary happened. Guided by a prompting from the Lord, he decided to embark on a seven-day fast. This wasn’t a superficial attempt at self-improvement, but a deep dive into prayer and self-reflection. His cell group, recognizing the significance of his commitment, rallied around him, joining him in the fast and offering their support. It was a collective act of spiritual solidarity. The transformation that followed was remarkable. It was like witnessing the sun break through a thick layer of clouds. The young man who emerged from that period of fasting and prayer was almost unrecognizable. The critical spirit that had defined him seemed to have vanished, replaced by a newfound humility and a deep yearning for spiritual growth. No longer was he focused on pointing out the perceived sins of others. The slanderous remarks ceased. The judgmental pronouncements were silenced. Instead, he turned his gaze inward, recognizing his own vulnerabilities and weaknesses. He approached his brothers and sisters in Christ, not with accusations, but with heartfelt request for prayer. ‘Brother, please pray for me’, he would say, his voice laced with sincerity. ‘Pray for my heart. Pray for my attitude. I want to be more like Christ.’ His focus had shifted dramatically. He was no longer obsessed with judging the spiritual condition of others, but rather consumed with his own. The fast, the prayers, the deliberate act of humbling himself before God had allowed him to see himself clearly, to acknowledge his own shortcomings, and to actively seek transformation. He realized that true spiritual growth wasn’t about pointing fingers, but about confronting one’s own inner battles and striving for holiness. 

This is the essence of what happens when we intentionally enter the presence of God. We are stripped of our defenses, our self-justifications, and our tendency to compare ourselves favourably to others. We are confronted with the reality of our own spiritual shortcomings, and we are given the opportunity to choose a path of humility, repentance, and transformation. The presence of God acts as a catalyst, burning away the impurities and revealing the path towards a more authentic and fulfilling spiritual life, one focused not on judging others, but on cultivating a closer relationship with God and striving for personal growth. It’s a humbling, often challenging, but ultimately liberating experience.

Let’s delve deeper into the transformative encounter Isaiah experienced: his profound awareness of his spiritual condition. This awareness wasn’t triggered by external circumstances, but by something far more significant – a direct encounter with God. Imagine Isaiah standing in the Temple, perhaps engaged in his usual duties, when suddenly, the veil between the earthly and the heavenly thins. He is granted a vision of unparalleled grandeur. He sees God, not as a distant, abstract concept, but seated upon a magnificent throne, radiating power and authority. The Temple, the very house of God, is filled with smoke, a visual representation of God’s holiness and the overwhelming presence that permeates the space. Isaiah 6:1 speaks of the ‘train of his glory’ – an image that conjures up a majestic, sweeping display of divine radiance that fills the entire space. This isn’t a subtle, easily dismissed apparition. It’s a breathtaking spectacle, a sensory overload of God. Further adding to the awe, Isaiah beholds angels, celestial beings, in their full glory, surrounding the throne and proclaiming God’s holiness. One might expect Isaiah to be overwhelmed by the sheer spectacle of the vision, consumed by the grandeur and the majesty of the divine encounter. However, the passage points out a crucial detail: he is not distracted by the outward display. He isn’t simply captivated by the light show, so to speak. Instead, the vision acts as a catalyst, drawing his attention inward. The encounter with God’s holiness doesn’t inflate his ego or inspire a sense of self-righteousness. On the contrary, it throws his own imperfections into stark relief. He is confronted by his own sinfulness, his own shortcomings. He is broken by it. This isn’t just a fleeting feeling of guilt; it’s a deep, visceral conviction that strikes at the core of his being. This conviction, this profound realization of his own unworthiness, is not a form of condemnation. It’s not a judgment meant to crush him. Instead, it is a necessary and painful revelation. It’s a conviction that opens his eyes to the truth about himself. In the dazzling light of God’s holiness, his own moral failings, previously perhaps ignored or rationalized, become glaringly apparent. It is often in the presence of God, in moments of profound spiritual connection with Him, that we become most acutely aware of our own spiritual poverty. It’s like standing before a mirror. When we gaze upon the absolute purity and holiness of God, we cannot help but see the blemishes and imperfections within ourselves. We realize how spiritually bankrupt we truly are, how poor in the Spirit we have become. This awareness, although initially painful, is ultimately a gift. It awakens within us a deep longing for redemption, a desperate need for saving and forgiveness. We understand that we cannot bridge the gap between our imperfect selves and the perfect holiness of God on our own. We are driven to seek the grace and mercy that only God can provide. The holiness and glory of God, therefore, act as a mirror, reflecting back to us the true state of our souls. This reflection can be unsettling, even frightening. However, it is precisely this discomfort that spurs us toward genuine repentance and a deeper relationship with God. Isaiah, under conviction and humbled, stands as a testament to the transformative power of encountering God’s holiness. It’s a journey from superficial observation to profound self-awareness, from complacency to a desperate hunger for redemption, and ultimately, from a broken spirit to a renewed heart. He is humbled, acknowledging his need for God’s grace and setting the stage for His prophetic calling. His experience serves as a timeless reminder that genuine spiritual growth begins with an honest assessment of our own sinfulness in the light of God’s unwavering holiness.

Until we experience these moments of divine manifestation, we might be lulled into a comfortable sense of self-righteousness. We might convince ourselves that we are on the right path, that we are spiritually mature and righteous in our own right. We gauge our spirituality by outward appearances, by our ability to attend religious services, or perhaps by the occasional act of kindness we perform. We feel relatively content in our perceived holiness, oblivious to the deeper truths that lie dormant within our hearts. However, the moment we stand before a truly holy God, the illusion shatters. It’s a jarring awakening, a sudden and often uncomfortable revelation. We realize the vast chasm between our perceived image and the reality of our imperfect nature. We experience that sharp, internal “Oh!” – a moment of profound clarity where our carefully constructed façades crumble. Suddenly, the hidden corners of our hearts are illuminated, exposed to the radiant light of divine truth. The masks we wear begin to slip, and we see ourselves, perhaps for the first time, as God sees us. This exposure, however, is not intended to inflict guilt or shame. It’s not meant to be a crippling weight that crushes our spirit. Instead, it’s a catalyst, a divine intervention designed to propel us towards genuine repentance and heartfelt confession to Christ. It’s an invitation to shed the burden of our sins and embrace the transformative power of grace. The reason for this radical shift lies in the distorted images we often carry of ourselves. Prior to encountering God in such a powerful way, we operate under either a perceived image or a projected image, or perhaps even a combination of both. The perceived image is how we believe others see us. It’s built upon the limited understanding and perspective of those around us. Their opinions, filtered through their own experiences and biases, paint an incomplete picture of who we truly are. They see only the surface, the outward behaviours and actions, and their judgments, however well-intentioned, are inherently flawed. Then there’s the projected image – the carefully curated persona we present to the world. This is the version of ourselves we want others to believe, the polished and perfected façade we diligently maintain. We highlight our accomplishments, showcase our virtues, and subtly boast about our strengths. We carefully select what we reveal, presenting a highlight reel of our best moments while discreetly concealing our flaws and failures. We sweep our imperfections under the rug, hoping no one will notice the dust bunnies accumulating beneath. We tell tales of triumph, conveniently omitting the struggles and stumbles along the way. We are masters of impression management, crafting an illusion of flawlessness, but the truth is, this carefully constructed image is ultimately unsustainable and ultimately unsatisfying. It’s a heavy burden to carry, constantly worrying about maintaining the façade. How many of us know that sometimes, we need to completely reverse this dynamic? We need to let go of the need to control the narrative, to orchestrate the perception of others. We need to embrace vulnerability and authenticity. We need to allow others to speak for our good qualities, and instead, we should boast about our weaknesses. Let others praise our successes, and we will confess our failures. For it is in our weakness that God’s strength is made perfect, and it is through our vulnerability that we can truly connect with others and experience the transformative power of grace.

Read Hebrews 4:13

The unveiling of Christ’s power occurs not through a hazy lens of perception or a carefully constructed projection of self, but in the stark, unwavering light of God’s presence. It’s not about an idealized version of yourself, meticulously crafted for public consumption. Instead, it’s about encountering the actual image, the unvarnished reality that God sees. This isn’t a fleeting glimpse; it’s a complete and utter exposure, a revelation of the very essence of who we are. Hebrews 4:13 paints a vivid and sobering picture of this divine scrutiny: “Nothing in all creation is hidden from God’s sight. Everything is uncovered and laid bare before the eyes of him to whom we must give account.” Imagine that: every thought, every intention, every secret desire, laid bare before the Creator. In that sacred moment, stripped of all pretense, our hearts are exposed like an open book. The masks we carefully construct and maintain throughout our daily lives crumble under the weight of God’s truth. Within this hallowed space, there is simply no room for the superficial distractions that often consume us. The incessant hum of comparison, that insidious voice whispering judgments and fuelling envy, is silenced. There is no longer any value in measuring ourselves against the perceived successes and failures of others. The pressure to exaggerate our virtues, to paint a more flattering picture of ourselves than reality dictates, vanishes into thin air. The artifice of self-promotion crumbles. Similarly, the comforting cushion of excuses, the justifications we so readily offer to explain our shortcomings and deflect blame, is rendered useless. And perhaps most importantly, the insidious grip of self-deception, the comforting lies we tell ourselves to avoid facing uncomfortable truths, begins to loosen. We can no longer cling to fabricated narratives, to the illusions that shield us from our own imperfections.

In the presence of God, we are forced to confront the unadulterated truth of our being. This encounter can be profoundly uncomfortable, even jarring. It might reveal hidden wounds, buried resentments, or unacknowledged flaws. It can be heartbreaking to witness the chasm between the person we aspire to be and the person we truly are. It could be downright painful to acknowledge the depth of our own shortcomings. However, and this is crucial, we desperately need this uncomfortable confrontation. We need to experience the initial sting of self-awareness because it is precisely this discomfort that holds the key to our liberation. It is the shock of recognition that ignites the spark of repentance. It sets us firmly on the path toward true and lasting transformation. If we succumb to the illusion of self-sufficiency, if we arrogantly believe we have it all together, when, in reality, we are riddled with flaws and clinging to falsehoods, we are tragically lost. We are not only stagnant but actively deceived. We are trapped in a cage of our own making, unable to break free from the chains of self-delusion. Only by embracing the discomfort of truth can we begin the journey toward genuine healing and spiritual growth. 

Isaiah’s experience is a powerful illustration of this principle. We’re confronted with the jarring realization that it’s entirely possible to be actively doing the work of the Lord, prophesying and proclaiming His message, while simultaneously being spiritually bankrupt. Consider the weight of that: Isaiah, a chosen prophet, faithfully delivering God’s Word to the people, yet upon encountering the overwhelming holiness and glory of God in his vision, declares, “Woe is me, for I am lost!” This wasn’t a man who had strayed from his duties or abandoned his faith; he was actively fulfilling his divine calling. However, the encounter with God unveiled a deeper truth – a personal lack, a spiritual deficiency that he hadn’t fully acknowledged until that moment. Pastor Eric invited reflection on the possibility that we are not so different – and just as prone to falling in the same trap. We can become so consumed with the outward expressions of faith – serving, preaching, witnessing, evangelizing – that we neglect the essential inner work of self-examination and repentance. We may find ourselves caught in the rhythm of religious activity, ticking off boxes on a spiritual checklist, without truly engaging with God and allowing Him to search the depths of our hearts. Imagine the dedicated volunteer who tirelessly organizes church events, yet harbours bitterness and resentment towards a fellow member. Or the eloquent preacher who captivates audiences with inspiring sermons, but struggles with pride and a lack of humility in his personal life. These examples underscore the inherent danger of prioritizing outward performance over inward transformation. Pastor Eric isn’t advocating for inaction until we achieve some idealized state of perfection. He’s not suggesting that we must be flawless before we can serve. Instead, it emphasizes the ongoing, continuous need for self-reflection and reliance on God’s grace. It calls for a proactive approach to our spiritual health, a conscious effort to examine our motives, attitudes, and actions in the light of God’s Word. This examination is not a one-time event but a daily discipline. It involves regularly coming before God in humility, confessing our shortcomings, and asking Him to reveal the areas in our lives that need His healing and restoration. Just as a doctor regularly monitors a patient’s health to detect and address potential problems, we must consistently check our spiritual pulse, seeking God’s guidance and correction. By regularly submitting to this process of self-examination and repentance, we cultivate a deeper relationship with God, allowing Him to shape us into vessels that are not only outwardly effective but also inwardly pure. This, in turn, empowers us to serve with greater authenticity, compassion, and a genuine desire to reflect Christ’s love in all that we do. We become less focused on our own achievements and more attuned to the needs of others, allowing the Holy Spirit to work through us in powerful and transformative ways. Therefore, while diligent service is commendable, it must be rooted in a foundation of continual repentance and a sincere pursuit of God’s presence, ensuring that our actions flow from a heart that is constantly being renewed and refined by His grace.

Isaiah experiences a profound moment of revelation and self-awareness. He cries out, “Woe is me! 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!” (Isaiah 6:5) This isn’t just a casual statement of inadequacy; it’s a desperate cry born from a direct encounter with God. 

When we genuinely seek Him and draw near, we are brought face-to-face with His holiness, His majesty, His absolute purity. The effect is like stepping from a dimly lit room into the blinding light of the sun. Suddenly, every speck of dust, every imperfection, every flaw becomes glaringly obvious.

The vision Isaiah receives – a glimpse of God enthroned in glory – triggers a deep conviction of sin within him. He’s not merely intellectually acknowledging sin; he’s feeling it. He internalizes the disparity between the perfect holiness of God and his own flawed, human nature. This isn’t a generic feeling of guilt, but a specific awareness of his ‘unclean lips’, hinting at the importance of the words we speak, the way we communicate, and the potential for our tongues to wound and defile. He even acknowledges the collective sin, the ‘unclean lips’ of the people around him, recognizing that he is not isolated in his imperfection but is part of a community steeped in similar shortcomings. This conviction is the very fruit of seeking a holy God. It’s not a punishment, but a purification. It’s a necessary stage in the journey towards spiritual growth and transformation. When we earnestly pursue God, He will inevitably expose the hidden corners of our hearts, the impurities we’ve tried to ignore or rationalize. He shines a light on the areas where we’ve fallen short, where we’ve compromised, where we’ve allowed sin to take root. We recognize our spiritual bankruptcy, the emptiness within us that only He can fill. This realization fosters a greater sensitivity to His presence, a deeper awareness of our dependence on His grace. But the story doesn’t end with Isaiah’s cry. It doesn’t end with the devastating realization of his own unworthiness. This profound moment of self-awareness, this agonizing cry of “Woe is me,” ultimately leads to something beautiful, something redemptive; forgiveness. Pay close attention to what follows. Isaiah’s recognition of his sin is not met with condemnation, but with cleansing. The passage leads to Isaiah receiving forgiveness, a tangible demonstration of God’s mercy and grace. As we see in Isaiah 6:5, after expressing his deep distress – “Woe is me for I am lost, for I’m 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” and the next verses state, “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.” Isaiah’s experience is pivotal. Before he can be God’s messenger, before he can speak God’s truth to the people, he needs cleansing. He needs forgiveness. His conviction precedes his commissioning. And this is the core lesson we draw from Isaiah’s encounter: before there is true forgiveness, before we can truly experience the grace and mercy of God, there must be confession.

Read James 5:16

“Listen closely”, Pastor Eric said, “because this isn’t about legalistic ritual; it’s about a heart posture. Let me rephrase it to be absolutely clear: I’m not suggesting that you need to seek out a priest or a specific individual and whisper your sins in a darkened room. The foundational act is direct and personal. You need to begin confessing to God. This isn’t a passive acknowledgment. It’s an active, intentional turning towards God with honesty and vulnerability. It’s acknowledging the things we’ve done, the thoughts we’ve entertained, the attitudes we’ve harboured that are contrary to His will. It’s admitting our shortcomings, our failures, our participation in sin. There may, indeed, come a time when confession to a trusted friend, a spiritual mentor, or a fellow believer is necessary. Perhaps you need to confess to each other to receive the power of united prayer, to gain accountability, to find healing in shared vulnerability. James 5:16 urges us to “confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that you may be healed”. That is powerful and has a place. However, let’s keep the primary focus where it belongs: confessing to God.

Read 1 John 1:9

The bedrock of forgiveness lies in our direct communication with our Creator. The apostle John understood this implicitly when he penned these powerful words in 1 John 1:9: “If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.” Think about the promise embedded in that verse: “faithful” and “just”. God isn’t capricious; He is bound by His own character to forgive those who genuinely seek His pardon. And He doesn’t just forgive; He cleanses. He removes the stain, the lingering effects of sin from our lives. So, we must confess our sins. It’s not optional; it’s essential for a right relationship with God. Maybe you’ve come here today, and the Holy Spirit is gently, or perhaps even forcefully, convicting you of something, an area in your life, a habit, a secret sin, a broken relationship, a hardened heart – something that is separating you from God. “And I want to wholeheartedly encourage you, right now, in this moment”, Pastor Eric continued, “to confess that to God. Don’t rationalize it. Don’t minimize it. Bring it into the Light. It’s not because He is unaware of it. Let me be clear: God sees everything. He knows every thought, every intention, every action. He knows the deepest secrets of your heart. But you confess it to Him because confession is not for His benefit; it’s for yours. It’s about aligning your will with His, about humbling yourself before Him, about opening the door to His grace and forgiveness. It’s about taking ownership of your actions and seeking reconciliation with the One who loves you unconditionally.’

Charles Finney, the renowned 19th-century evangelist, presented a deep and practical method for seeking forgiveness – one that goes beyond a vague, general plea. He cautioned against the common practice of confessing sins in a broad, generalized fashion, such as simply uttering, “Lord, forgive me of all my sins.” While the sentiment behind such a prayer might be sincere, he argued that it often lacks the depth and specificity required for genuine repentance and spiritual growth. Instead, this evangelist urged individuals to approach God with a more meticulous and intentional form of confession. He advocated for individually identifying and naming each sin committed, bringing each specific transgression before God. This approach isn’t about fulfilling a ritual obligation – it aims to help the person truly grasp the nature and consequences of his or her sin. He believed that when we meticulously focus on each individual sin, we are forced to confront its true nature, its specific details, and its potential ramifications. “By dwelling on the individual acts, we focus on each individual sin that we’ve committed and we see the depth of it’, Pastor Eric explained. “You see the tragedy of it, and then it leads to true repentance.” In contrast, a generalized confession like, “Forgive me of all my sins”, often allows us to gloss over the details and avoid truly confronting the harm we have caused. “It’s vague sometimes when we say ‘Forgive me of all my sins”, he observed. “When we say this, we don’t really think about what we’ve done. We don’t think about the action or the impact.” The result is a superficial acknowledgment of wrongdoing, without the genuine contrition and desire for change that true repentance demands. By taking the time to meticulously name and examine each sin, we are compelled to confront the gravity of our actions. “So, by doing so, we acknowledge the seriousness of each sin before God,” Pastor Eric continued. This conscious recognition of the severity of our offenses is crucial for fostering genuine remorse and a determination to avoid repeating them. Furthermore, this process necessitates taking personal responsibility for our choices. We take responsibility for our actions, rather than hiding behind a vague statement.” We can no longer deflect blame or minimize the harm caused. We are forced to own our actions and acknowledge their consequences. Ultimately, this deliberate and detailed process of confession, according to the evangelist, leads to a far more profound spiritual transformation. By confronting our individual sins, we cultivate a greater sense of humility. We realize our fallibility, our inherent weakness, and our dependence on God’s grace. This humbling experience leads to a deeper understanding of our need for God’s forgiveness and assistance. “It leads us to a greater sense of humility, and that we need God. We need His grace. We need His help”, Pastor Eric said. We recognize that we cannot overcome our sinful tendencies through our own strength alone, but require the transformative power of God’s love and mercy. In this way, the practice of specific and detailed confession becomes not just a ritualistic exercise, but a pathway to genuine repentance, spiritual growth, and a closer relationship with God.

“See,” Pastor Eric emphasized, “conviction…true, lasting conviction…it doesn’t just happen. It flourishes, it takes root, it blossoms in the presence of the Lord. It does! It’s not something you can manufacture, or conjure up on your own. It’s a revelation, a quiet understanding that dawns on you when you are close to God.” He paused, allowing the weight of his words to settle. “And we need that,” he continued. “We desperately need that conviction in our lives. Reverential fear happens in the presence of the Lord. Not a fear born of terror or punishment, but a deep, abiding respect, an understanding of His power and His holiness. Being in awe of God, and expectation, that eager anticipation of His blessings, and hope of God, that unwavering belief in His promises…all of these things blossom and thrive in His presence. You become more sensitive, more attuned to pleasing the Lord in the presence of God. Your spirit awakens.” His eyes then shifted, focusing on a particular section of the sanctuary. “The six people going through water baptism today”, he declared, his voice filled with joy, “have come to a similar place in their lives. They’ve each had their own individual journey, their own unique encounter with grace.” He smiled gently. “Probably without the dramatic display of smoke and angels like we read about in Isaiah 6,” he chuckled softly, “but they did, in their own way, experience the undeniable presence of God. They willingly and humbly sought His forgiveness for their sins, confessed their shortcomings, and embraced the promise of a new beginning with Christ.” He paused again, his gaze returning to encompass the entire congregation. “And I wonder”, he said, his voice laced with heartfelt yearning, “if there is an Isaiah here today, someone who feels that familiar tug in his or her heart, that unsettling awareness of his or her own imperfections. Someone who will say, perhaps quietly to himself or herself, ‘Woe is me, for I’m lost. I have sinned and fell short of Your glory. I need redemption. I need saving. I need a fresh start.’” His voice became softer, more inviting. “If that is you, if you feel that stirring within you, that longing for something more, I’ll give you an opportunity today, at the end of the service, to receive the Lord into your heart, to allow Him to wash away your sins, and to taste and see how good He is. To experience, first hand, the overwhelming love and grace that He offers so freely to each and every one of you. Don’t be afraid to answer that call. Don’t let fear hold you back. Come and experience the transformative power of God’s presence.”

3 – It equips us and empowers us to serve Him.

It’s not merely a fleeting feeling of piety, but a foundational shift that reorients our hearts towards action. The presence of God doesn’t leave us stagnant; it ignites a desire to participate in His divine work. This preparation for service typically unfolds in a specific and powerful way. First, as we bask in His holiness, we experience conviction. The light of God’s perfect being shines into the dark corners of our hearts, exposing our flaws, imperfections, and outright sins. This isn’t a harsh judgment designed to condemn, but a loving illumination meant to heal and redirect. It’s a gentle nudge toward truth. Following this revelation, God graciously reveals the specific areas of sin within our lives. These may be deeply ingrained patterns of thought or behaviour, subtle biases, or outright acts of disobedience. This unveiling is often uncomfortable, prompting feelings of guilt and shame. However, it’s a necessary step towards liberation. The next crucial phase is confession. Understanding the weight of our transgressions, we humbly and honestly acknowledge our sin before God. We don’t offer excuses, justifications, or minimize our actions. Instead, we confess openly and earnestly, laying bare our vulnerabilities before the One who already knows them intimately. This act of confession is an act of surrender, a recognition of our need for forgiveness and grace. Finally, after this confession and honest acknowledgment of our sin before God, we receive the immeasurable gift of cleansing. Through His boundless mercy and the sacrifice of Jesus Christ, our sins are forgiven and washed away. This cleansing is not simply a wiping clean of the slate, but a transformative process that begins to heal the wounds of sin and restore us to a state of purity, preparing us to then serve the Lord. This newfound purity allows us to approach Him with a clear conscience and a heart ready to be molded into an instrument for His purpose. It is in this state of cleansed and renewed spirit that we are truly equipped to embark on the path of service.

4 – We receive a commission.

The fourth result of being in the presence of the Lord is receiving a divine commission. This isn’t merely a suggestion or a polite request; it’s a direct call to action, a purpose breathed into our souls by the very Creator of the universe. Think of Isaiah, standing in the awestruck silence of the Temple, freshly confronted with the overwhelming holiness of God. He didn’t merely hear a sound; he heard the very voice of the Lord Himself, filled with divine weight and urgency. As recorded in Isaiah 6:8-9, God asked the pivotal question, “Whom shall I send, and who will go for us?” Now, let’s pause and consider the sheer audacity of Isaiah’s response. In the wake of such a profound and potentially terrifying vision – angels with six wings, swirling smoke filling the sacred space, the earth trembling under the weight of God’s glory – Isaiah didn’t cower. He didn’t hesitate. He didn’t offer excuses or qualifications. Instead, he boldly proclaimed, “Here I am! Send me.” And the Lord, in turn, issued the specific, challenging commission: “Go, and say to this people…’” “Let’s be honest,” Pastor Eric said, “the human instinct in such a situation might lean more towards self-preservation than selfless service. I don’t know about you, but faced with that celestial spectacle, and anticipating the message that followed, I might have been tempted to nudge a neighbour and whisper, ‘Hey, you seem free, maybe you should go.’ Especially when you consider the content of Isaiah’s message to the people – a message of judgment, repentance, and impending consequences. It wasn’t a feel-good, popularity-boosting assignment.” Isaiah’s response wasn’t born out of naiveté or blind ambition. It stemmed from the transformation he had just undergone. Because of his renewed vision of God, a vision that shattered his preconceived notions and revealed the immensity of divine power and grace, and because of his humbling realization of his own spiritual condition – his acknowledgment of his sinfulness and subsequent cleansing – he was now in the right position, the only position, to truly serve God. He understood, perhaps for the first time, that genuine service flows from a heart humbled and purified before the Almighty.

This principle applies to each and every one of us. It puts us in a perfect position to be used of God, not in spite of our brokenness, but because of it. When we are broken before God, stripped of our pride and self-sufficiency, when we genuinely realize our spiritual bankruptcy – that we have nothing to offer God in and of ourselves – then and only then are we truly open to receiving and fulfilling His commission. It’s in the valley of humility, not on the mountain of self-importance, that we discover our true calling.

“The question, therefore, remains”, Pastor Eric continued, “I wonder how many will respond to God’s call to go? Not just to perform religious duties, but to truly go – to step out of our comfort zones, to embrace the challenges He sets before us, to deliver His message with boldness and compassion, even when it’s difficult or unpopular. Are we willing to lay down our own agendas, our own fears, our own insecurities, and offer ourselves completely to His service, echoing Isaiah’s words, “Here I am! Send me”? The world is waiting for those who will answer that call with a resounding “Yes.”

Even now, God is calling, still asking the timeless question: Whom shall I send, and who will go for us? God’s voice, filled with both yearning and purpose, seeks willing hands and faithful feet. Who will venture forth, stepping beyond the comfort of the familiar and into the challenging landscape of discipleship? Who will dedicate their lives to the profound and transformative work of making disciples, guiding others towards a deeper understanding of love, grace, and truth? The question doesn’t stop there. The need is multifaceted, the harvest vast. Who will go and preach the Good News, the joyous message of hope and redemption that can shatter the chains of despair and illuminate the path to salvation? Who will share the liberating truth with a world hungry for meaning and purpose, a world grappling with pain and uncertainty? Who will be the voice that whispers encouragement, the messenger that proclaims forgiveness, the beacon that shines the light of Christ? But the call to action isn’t confined to grand pronouncements and soaring sermons. It extends to the quiet acts of compassion, the everyday moments of kindness. Who will go and serve the needy, the marginalized? Who will see the broken, the hurting, the lonely, and offer a hand of assistance, a word of comfort, a gesture of love? Who will dedicate their time and their resources to alleviate suffering and bring solace to those in need? And beyond the tangible acts of service, there’s the crucial role of representation. Who will go and represent Him, embodying the values of love, compassion, justice, and humility in their daily lives? Who will be a living testament to the transformative power of faith, radiating kindness and grace in their interactions with others? Who will be the walking, talking embodiment of Christ’s teachings, influencing the world around them through their words and actions? “These are the questions that reverberate within us”, Pastor Eric said, “challenging our comfort zones and demanding a response. And I wonder, in the quiet spaces of our hearts, how many of us will bravely and boldly say, “Here I am! Send me.” How many of us will rise to the occasion, acknowledging the call and embracing the opportunity to serve, to love, to represent God in a world desperately seeking hope and direction? Will we answer the call, or will we remain silent, clinging to the familiar shores of our own comfort? The answer, ultimately lies within each of us.”

Read Luke 15:11-32

Pastor Eric’s voice resonated with a newfound depth as he prepared to conclude his sermon. He leaned forward, his eyes sweeping across the congregation, holding their gaze with a warmth that transcended the pulpit. “As I conclude,” he began, his voice imbued with compassion, “there’s a story, a timeless parable woven by the very hands of Jesus. It’s a story about a young man, a son, fuelled by youthful ambition and a thirst for independence, who left the comfort and security of his father’s house – the prodigal son.” He paused, allowing the image to settle in their minds. “He wasn’t driven out, mind you. He chose to leave. He took with him his inheritance, the fruit of his father’s labour, a promise of future security. And what did he do with it?” Pastor Eric’s voice softened, laced with a hint of sorrow. “He dissipated it. He wasted all that inheritance on reckless living, on fleeting pleasures that promised satisfaction but delivered only emptiness.” He painted a vivid picture, his words bringing the ancient story to life. “Think about it,” he urged. “He indulged in lavish parties, surrounded by fair-weather friends who only cared about the wealth he possessed. He chased after fleeting thrills, oblivious to the slow but steady depletion of his resources, both material and spiritual. And like a sandcastle facing the relentless tide, his fortune gradually crumbled, leaving him stranded on the shores of despair.” Pastor’s voice took on a somber tone. “And after spending it all, after the parties faded and the friends disappeared, he hit rock bottom. Not a gentle slope downward, but a jarring, abrupt collision with the hard, unforgiving reality of his choices. He found himself in a desolate place, far from the familiar comforts of home. He was forced to take a job feeding pigs – a task considered utterly degrading in his culture, an occupation reserved for the lowest of the low. And even then,” Pastor Eric emphasized, his voice filled with empathy, “even then, he wasn’t even properly fed. He longed to eat what the pigs ate, scraps and swill, a stark illustration of his utter destitution.” A silence hung heavy in the air as the congregation absorbed the gravity of the prodigal son’s plight. Then, Pastor Eric voice, now laced with hope, cut through the stillness. “It wasn’t in that moment of hitting rock bottom, surrounded by the stench of the pigsty, that he experienced a profound realization. It was then that he realized his spiritual bankruptcy. He understood the depth of his separation from his father, from his true self, from God. He saw the hollowness of his pursuit of worldly pleasures, the emptiness that no amount of wealth could ever fill.” He quoted the Scripture with reverence. “But when he came to himself, he said, ‘How many of my father’s hired servants have more than enough bread, but I perish here with hunger! I will arise and go to my father, and I will say to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son. Treat me as one of your hired servants’ (Luke 15:17-19). He made a decision, a conscious choice to reject his current state of despair and embark on a journey of repentance, a journey back home.” Pastor Eric’s voice rose with emotion. “When he returned home, weary and ashamed, he expected rejection. He anticipated scorn, judgment, maybe even a cold shoulder. He braced himself for the consequences of his actions. But what happened? What truly happened? His father, that loving, forgiving father, saw him from afar. And filled with compassion, he ran to him. He embraced him, enveloping him in a hug that spoke volumes, a hug that communicated forgiveness, acceptance, and unconditional love. The father didn’t wait for an apology. He didn’t demand an explanation. He simply welcomed his son home with open arms. And not only that”, Pastor Eric continued, his voice radiating joy, “he threw a party! A grand celebration, complete with music, dancing, and feasting. Why? Because his son was dead, but now he was alive again. He was lost, but now he was found. This wasn’t just about money. It was about a restoration of a broken relationship, a reconciliation of a lost soul.” He lowered his voice, addressing the congregation directly. “You may be here today, and you feel like you’ve hit rock bottom, that you are spiritually bankrupt, weighed down by regret, shame, and the consequences of your own choices. You may feel lost, abandoned, and unworthy of love. You may believe that you’ve gone too far, that your mistakes are too great to be forgiven. But I came to say to you today, with all the authority and hope that I possess, that if you confess to God your need of Him, if you acknowledge your shortcomings and surrender to His will, who knows what He will do with your life! Who knows what God will do with you! He is the God of second chances, the God of redemption, the God who delights in restoring broken lives. He is waiting for you, just like the father in the story, with open arms, ready to embrace you, forgive you, and welcome you back into His loving embrace. Don’t let shame hold you back. Don’t let doubt cripple you. Arise, and go to your Father. He’s waiting for you!

Watch the video here.