We Become Like What We Worship
Updated: 3 days ago
The Tragic Reality of Idolatry
A written sermon on Isaiah 6
The Power of What We Behold
We all become like something. The question is, what are we becoming?
Have you ever noticed how people start to resemble what they admire? Follow an influencer, and you start talking like them and dressing like them. Chase success or approval, and your heart slowly molds itself around those things.
As a child, I wanted to be like Luke Skywalker. I memorized his lines, dressed like him, and even forced my sister to be Princess Leia. Without realizing it, I was shaping my life around him.
I once read that people even start to resemble their dogs over time. I’m not sure that’s entirely true, but it does make me reconsider what kind of dog I’d choose!
This is more than a quirk of human behavior. It is a spiritual reality. What we fix our eyes on shapes our hearts, and over time it transforms us. We become like what we worship. That is why, if we are to fulfill our God-given purpose, we must fix our eyes on Jesus.
Isaiah’s vision of the Lord in the temple, one of the most majestic and most challenging passages in Scripture, shows both sides of this. Isaiah looks at God and is transformed, while Israel looks at idols and becomes as blind and lifeless as the things it worships.
The King on the Throne
Some moments in life shake you to your core. In an instant, everything you assumed was stable and secure feels small and fragile. Isaiah had one of those moments. It was “the year that King Uzziah died” (Isaiah 6:1).
For most of his reign, Uzziah had led Judah into prosperity and security. But at the height of his power, he overstepped his bounds, entering the temple to burn incense, a role reserved for the priests alone. God struck him with leprosy, and he lived the rest of his life in isolation, unclean and shut out of the house of the Lord (2 Chronicles 26:16–21). Now the throne was empty, Assyria loomed, and everything felt uncertain.
But Isaiah is given a vision of a greater reality:
“I saw the Lord sitting upon a throne, high and lifted up; and the train of his robe filled the temple.” (Isaiah 6:1)
The throne of Judah may be in crisis, but the throne of heaven is untouched. As at Mount Sinai, there is smoke, and the foundations shake. As at Sinai, much is left unsaid. We are not given a look at His face. But we are told that He is seated. He is ruling.
Around Him are the seraphim, the “burning ones,” mysterious fiery beings who seem to serve as priests in God’s heavenly court. They declare His holiness, lead creation in worship, and, as we will see, bring atonement. They cry out to one another:
“Holy, holy, holy is the LORD of hosts; the whole earth is full of his glory!” (Isaiah 6:3)
In Hebrew, repetition intensifies meaning. To say God is “holy” would be true. To say He is “holy, holy” would be emphatic. To declare “holy, holy, holy” is to proclaim Him utterly set apart, beyond all creation. And His glory fills the whole earth: no part of creation lies outside His rule.
Even the seraphim, glorious beings who serve in God’s presence, cover their faces before Him. Imagine being Isaiah in that moment. The room shakes with His voice. Smoke fills the air. His holiness overwhelms you. How would you feel? And what will happen next?
This vision raises a question for us: where do we look when life feels uncertain? Leaders come and go, and nations rise and fall, but God reigns forever. Are our eyes fixed on political power or human leaders? Is our confidence in our bank accounts, or our jobs? When I feel anxious, my tendency is to overwork, putting my confidence in what I can accomplish. But that is not certain either. All of these will disappoint. This vision reminds us of what we can surely count on: God is on the throne.
Undone and Made Clean
In that moment, Isaiah realizes something devastating: he does not belong here.
“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!” (Isaiah 6:5)
His cry is almost a funeral dirge. He is as good as dead, for two reasons. First, he is standing in the holy temple. If God struck King Uzziah with leprosy for wrongly entering it, what will happen to Isaiah? Second, he sees his own impurity. In seeing God clearly, he finally sees himself rightly. He is like a man who has tracked mud into a pure, spotless house, painfully aware that every step leaves a mark.
How might we have responded? Perhaps by insisting we’re fine. Perhaps by trying to fix ourselves. Perhaps by running away from God.
Isaiah expects judgment. But something astonishing happens instead:
“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 6:6–7)
He is not struck with leprosy. He is not killed. Instead of being consumed, he is cleansed.
This is pure grace. Isaiah has done nothing to deserve it. God does not have to be coerced into mercy. It is part of His holy and glorious nature, and the God who sits on the throne is quick to forgive.
Notice, too, which way the holiness flows. Normally uncleanness spreads: touch something unclean and you become unclean. But here the movement runs the other way. God’s holiness spreads from His throne to the one who looks to Him. His cleansing power is stronger than our defilement.
This is where true transformation begins. Isaiah’s change did not start with effort or self-improvement. It started with an encounter with God. There is no other solution to our guilt and shame. We can’t fix it with money, power, or working harder. So it is worth asking ourselves: have we truly encountered God, or do we only know about Him?
Then, for the first time in the passage, God speaks:
“And I heard the voice of the Lord saying, ‘Whom shall I send, and who will go for us?’ Then I said, ‘Here I am! Send me.’” (Isaiah 6:8)
The man who moments earlier feared for his life now stands ready. Notice the order. Isaiah is sent only after he is cleansed. He does not serve to earn God’s favor; he serves in response to it. If we have truly encountered God, we will want to serve Him.
Blind Like Their Idols
If the passage ended here, it would be a nice, inspiring moment. Most sermons end here! But what follows is the heart of this chapter, and a passage the New Testament returns to again and again (Matthew 13, Mark 4, Luke 8, John 12, Acts 28). Isaiah is not sent to a people eager to listen:
“Go, and say to this people: ‘Keep on hearing, but do not understand; keep on seeing, but do not perceive.’ Make the heart of this people dull, and their ears heavy, and blind their eyes; lest they see with their eyes, and hear with their ears, and understand with their hearts, and turn and be healed.” (Isaiah 6:9–10)
This is not the kind of calling most of us would hope for. And it is jarring. Hasn’t God just shown Himself to be gracious? Why would He say this?
The answer is that the people have already chosen what they will worship. They have exchanged the God of the covenant, the One who rules among them and saves them, for images of wood and stone. Idols are things you can see and touch. They say what you want to hear, demand nothing, and let you feel in control. Psalm 115 lays out where that leads:
“Their idols are silver and gold, the work of human hands. They have mouths, but do not speak; eyes, but do not see. They have ears, but do not hear… Those who make them become like them; so do all who trust in them.” (Psalm 115:4–6, 8)
The idols have eyes but do not see, and now the people have eyes but cannot perceive. The idols have ears but do not hear, and now the people cannot understand. The idols are wood and stone, and now the people’s hearts are as hard as stone. God is confirming the choice they have already made. They wanted gods who would not speak, so God will fall silent toward them. Paul makes the same point in Romans 1: when people exchange the glory of God for images, God gives them over to what they desire.
Isaiah asks the heartbreaking question, “How long, O Lord?” (6:11). The answer is devastating: until the cities lie waste, the land is desolate, and the people are removed far away. God’s desire was for the land to be a garden. It will become a graveyard of dead trees:
“And though a tenth remain in it, it will be burned again, like a terebinth or an oak, whose stump remains when it is felled.” (Isaiah 6:13)
They made idols from trees and trusted them to save them. Now their land will be full of nothing but stumps. The things they worshiped have led to their destruction.
Step back and the whole chapter becomes a great contrast. Isaiah looked to God and found forgiveness and life; the people looked to idols and found judgment and death. The burning coal cleansed Isaiah; the burning that comes to the land destroys it. Isaiah is sent out in mission; the people will be sent out into exile. Even the frame tells the story. The chapter opens with the death of an unclean king and closes with the death of the trees that were made into idols.
The passage leaves only two options. Look to God and be changed. Look to idols and be destroyed.
So what are we looking at? If your life were a mirror, what would it reflect? What do you talk about, think about, and trust in most? Our money? Our comfort? Our politics? Our success? Whatever we give our time, attention, and trust to, these are our idols. What we behold, we become.
Made to Bear His Image
Isaiah’s first hearers, living in a land full of idols, would have noticed something in this scene that is easy for us to miss.
In the ancient world of Mesopotamia, idols were not just statues. They were believed to be vessels of the gods. But before a newly carved idol could be placed in a temple and “speak” for the gods, it had to pass through an elaborate ceremony called the mis-pî, the “mouth-washing” ritual. Made by human hands from wood or stone, the idol went through a series of rites in which its mouth was ritually washed and it was consecrated. Then it was led through the temple gate, installed in its sanctuary, and declared ready to serve as the mouthpiece of the gods. Of course, it still could not see, hear, or speak.
Now look again at Isaiah 6. Isaiah is in the temple; the text even mentions its thresholds shaking (6:4). He comes from an unclean world, and he knows it. Instead of a ritual washing by human priests, he is purified by God’s own fiery servants. His lips are touched, and only then is he given his calling: to be the true mouthpiece of God.
God does for Isaiah what the nations pretended to do for their idols. The world washes wood and stone; God truly cleanses a heart. The people have been following speechless idols, so God raises up a living “image” among them: not to be worshiped, but to be what they were all meant to be, a true image-bearer pointing people back to the living God.
The roots of this go back to the first page of Scripture. Genesis 1 is not only about God creating the world. It is about God building His temple. In the ancient world, a temple was where a god dwelt and ruled. On the seventh day God rested, not because He was tired, but because He was taking His seat on the throne of His finished creation. (John Walton develops this in The Lost World of Genesis One.)
And like every temple, this one had an image placed in it. Here is something surprising: the Hebrew word for “image,” tselem, is also used in the Old Testament for idols (for example, 2 Kings 11:18 and Amos 5:26). That doesn’t mean we are idols. It means we were created to do what people wrongly expected idols to do. In the ancient world, kings set up images of themselves across their lands to show who ruled, and temples held images so worshipers could meet their gods. The world is God’s kingdom and temple, and in it He placed His own living images: us.
We were made to reflect God to the world, to represent Him, show His character, and lead creation in worship. This is what it means to rule over creation: not as tyrants, but as those who reflect the true King. So all of life is spiritual. Our work, whether we are doctors, janitors, gardeners, or web designers, is meant to bring God’s order. Our evangelism points people to Him. Our prayer and Bible study form us to know Him and lead others to Him. Our worship leads creation into worship.
This also explains the first two commandments: “You shall have no other gods before me,” and “You shall not make for yourself a carved image” (Exodus 20:3–4). Only God is to be worshiped. He never gave a physical image of Himself. He gave us His word, His voice. Idols are lifeless, and worshiping them makes us lifeless. God is alive, and looking to Him makes us truly alive. But there is another reason. God had already made an image to represent Him: you and me.
But we know what happened. From the beginning, humans rejected this purpose. Instead of reflecting God, we turned from Him. Instead of worshiping the Creator, we worshiped creation. Instead of leading the world into worship, we led it into idolatry. (G. K. Beale traces this theme through the whole Bible in We Become What We Worship.)
So the question is not whether we will reflect something. The question is what we are reflecting. Isaiah shows us how a true image-bearer is made: he looks to God, he is cleansed by Him, and he goes into the world carrying His message. If we look to anything else, we lose our purpose and become as lifeless as the things we trust.
Jesus, the One We Behold
When Isaiah 6 ends, there is almost a sense of hopelessness. The land, once God’s garden, has become a wasteland of stumps. But the chapter’s very last words hold a seed of hope: “The holy seed is its stump” (6:13). God does what only He can do. He brings life out of what is dead. A few chapters later, Isaiah reveals the twist:
“There shall come forth a shoot from the stump of Jesse, and a branch from his roots shall bear fruit.” (Isaiah 11:1)
We have all looked to idols and failed to fulfill our purpose. So God sent Jesus, “the image of the invisible God” (Colossians 1:15): the One who perfectly reflects God’s glory, lives in God’s presence without fear or impurity, and truly speaks for God. And everything in Isaiah 6 comes together in Him.
Jesus is the true Priest. Instead of bringing a burning coal to cleanse our lips, He gave Himself to cleanse our whole being, and through His death He opened the way for us to enter God’s presence without fear.
Jesus is the true Sent One. Like Isaiah, He was sent to proclaim God’s message. And like Isaiah, He divided people. Some saw and repented; others saw the same miracles and still did not believe. John says exactly this, and then quotes Isaiah 6:10 to explain it (John 12:37–40). It is the same hardening Isaiah was told to expect.
Jesus is the true Stump. He was cut down because of our sin and idolatry. The world had become a ruined garden, and the One who is the Tree of Life hung on a tree for us. From His death, new life has come for all who turn to Him.
And Jesus is the One on the throne. John tells us that “Isaiah said these things because he saw his glory and spoke of him” (John 12:41). The King Isaiah saw high and lifted up was Christ. The throne was never truly empty.
So how do we respond? Where are we placing our hope? If we fix our eyes on idols, we will become blind, hardened, and lifeless. If we trust in money, we will become cold-hearted and greedy. If we trust in success, we will become exhausted and empty. If we trust in ourselves, we will be burdened with anxiety.
Instead, we are called to fix our eyes on Jesus, and as we look to Him, He makes us what we were meant to be. We look to Him daily, in prayer, worship, and Scripture. We come to Him in repentance and faith, letting go of false idols. We follow Him in obedience, trusting His voice rather than the world’s. “By this we may know that we are in him: whoever says he abides in him ought to walk in the same way in which he walked” (1 John 2:5–6).
This transformation does not come from striving, but from abiding. We do not change ourselves. We are changed as we fix our gaze on Christ:
“And we all, with unveiled face, beholding the glory of the Lord, are being transformed into the same image from one degree of glory to another.” (2 Corinthians 3:18)
You are not trapped in the patterns of this world. You don’t have to be shaped by fear, money, success, or anything else that demands your worship. No idol can give you life. But Jesus can.
My prayer for you, and for me, is that we would lift our eyes to Jesus, be transformed into His image, and fulfill the purpose we were made for. Because when we behold Him, we become like Him. And when we become like Him, we reflect His glory to the world.
What we behold, we become. So the question remains: what are you looking at?
FOR REFLECTION
1. Isaiah’s vision came “in the year that King Uzziah died.” Where do you look for
security when life feels uncertain?
2. In seeing God clearly, Isaiah saw himself rightly. Have you encountered God, or
mostly learned about him? What difference does that make?
3. The people kept seeing but did not perceive, and their hearts grew as hard as
their idols. Where might your heart be growing dull to God’s voice, and what are
you trusting in instead?
4. You were made to bear God’s image in his world, the way an image stood in a
temple. As you fix your eyes on Jesus, where could you reflect his character this
week: in your work, your home, or your neighborhood?
