All my life, I’ve worked hard to understand attributes of God. I could sit here for hours and pour out a list of virtues and features of his character, each one colored slightly differently and with contrasting significance for us based on our personal experience with his infinitely deep, eternal love.
However, as hard as I look, I have never seen listed as one of his attributes the word arrogant. I know that he is a just God and a jealous God and that he is perfect, and I know that he knows that. Because, well, he just is. I believe it. I love that about him. I love that he can be perfect and still love someone like me.
But if he knows it, I know it, and I know he knows it, why in the world would he feel the need to create angelic beings who fly around him day and night whose primary duty is to forever proclaim, “Holy, holy, holy is the Lord God Almighty. The earth is filled with his glory”?
The closest I’ve ever come to deserving those phrases is having a Yes Man doll. When I simply pull a string, the goofy-looking doll tells me how great I am, saying, “I couldn’t agree with you more completely,” “Oh yeah! I’m behind you all the way,” “I’m sure whatever you’re thinking is correct,” “Say, I wish I’d thought of that,” and “What more can I say? When you’re right, you’re right.”
Seraphim literally means “burning ones.” Seraphim, whose name could also have derived from “ones of love,” had six functional wings, according to Isaiah 6. They used two to fly all around and above the Lord, two to cover their feet, and two to cover their eyes, so they don’t even get to see how amazing and perfect he is. All they can do is fly close enough to experience him—to feel him. More than likely, just like Moses, they couldn’t bear seeing the face of the Creator of the universe without becoming charred Cheez-Its in a millisecond.
But they felt the same impossible energy that infused dead cells at an atomic level and resurrected the beloved Son of God. They were there when that same impossible energy brought back to life my own perishing heart. “Holy, holy, holy is the Lord God Almighty.”
In Hebrew, using a word twice showed the importance of a person or object (e.g., “Verily, verily,” “Moses, Moses,” “Saul, Saul”). Definitely an attention-getter.
A word used three times meant off-the-chart perfection. So the seraphim, “the ones of love,” are proclaiming God as totally and utterly perfect.
Bringing that down to a more human level, I have always thought Jesus asked Peter three times if Peter loved him to match the three times Peter denied Jesus. That might be partly true. But is it also possible Jesus used that moment to show Peter he would make something perfect out of Peter’s failure? The third time Jesus asked broke Peter, who replied, “You know all things. You know that I love you.” Could Jesus, in that perfect moment, have revealed this undeserved, unconditional love to Peter, and Peter finally believed it?
In my human mind, the whole seraphim thing sounded like a dull job at first—saying the same thing over and over throughout all eternity. I kept hoping, for the seraphim’s sake, they at least had shifts they changed out every twelve hours or so. Or they could at least say, “Hey, can you please take over for a while? I’ve got to get some caffeine.”
But then I read 1 Peter 5:7 (TLB): “Let him have all your worries and cares, for he is always thinking about you and watching everything that concerns you.” Love in action. And the only response is to scream from the rooftops how stunning God is. If God is always thinking about me and watching everything that concerns me, he would be, by logic, doing the same thing for everyone. That would mean the seraphim are experiencing God’s immediate love for each and every one of us each and every time they fly around his head.
In other words, they aren’t saying, “Holy, holy, holy is the Lord,” because it’s just their job; they are reacting to a new facet of his love for all his children. They are so overcome by the sheer weight of his unfailing love for us and all he created that they have no other outlet than to scream out how perfectly magnificent he is. They have, as we do when we experience his bloodred grace, no one earthly word to express how blameless, faultless, and absolute his love is for us. So we along with the seraphim can only cry out, “Holy, holy, holy is the Lord God Almighty. The whole earth is filled with his glory.”
The burning ones of heaven are constantly reminded of how the Lord puts love into action. He doesn’t just make promises; he fulfills them.
If you pass me on the 67/167, sometimes you might see me and think I’m talking to myself. But what I’m really doing is joining with the angels in proclaiming how perfect the love of my Father is: “Holy, holy, holy is the Lord God Almighty.”
First John 3:18–20 (MSG) paints a picture of how real love should look: “My dear children, let’s not just talk about love; let’s practice real love … It’s also the way to shut down debilitating self-criticism, even when there is something to it. For God is greater than our worried hearts and knows more about us than we do ourselves.”
One day, at my former job, working register number one, I glanced up to see a long line of customers. Standing beside the lady next in line at the counter, I noticed a little girl who was maybe six years old. The child was a miniature Shirley Temple with brown hair. She had the curls and rosy cheeks. I waited for her to break into “On the Good Ship Lollipop.” As I looked at her, though, I noticed that she stood very still and seemed to be fighting back tears. In one hand, she held a small book, Yertle the Turtle, and in the other, she held a pen that read, “Teachers are the heart of learning.”
I assumed she belonged with the lady I was checking out. But when I finished with her, the lady left, and the little one walked to the center of the counter.
There were probably four people waiting in line behind her and a few more over at the imprinting station, all within earshot. I looked down at the precious little girl. Our eyes met as she looked up and laid the two items on the counter. She said something to me so softly I couldn’t understand her. I looked at the next lady in line, hoping she was the child’s mom. She shrugged and mouthed, “I don’t know.”
So I said, “I’m sorry, sweetie. What did you say?”
I leaned down closer so I could hear her. Her chin quivered as she whispered, “I wanted these. But I took them without paying for them.”
I knew exactly what was going on. I really hoped all those in line would understand my taking a little extra time. I wanted us on a level playing field. I walked around the counter and got on my knees so we were eye to eye. I feigned extreme seriousness, furrowing my brow, and said, “Well, little one, how do you feel about it?”
“Bad.”
“Are you sorry for taking those things without paying for them?”
The tiny head crowned with curls nodded. “Yes, sir.”
“Are you ever going to do that again?”
Her voice was as broken as her heart. “No, sir.”
“Well, I’ll tell you what. I’ve done some pretty silly things in my life I sure wish I hadn’t done. But you know what? I know Jesus forgave me for doing those dumb things. And I know he forgives you. So I forgive you too. I forgive you, little friend. Thank you for bringing these things back and being honest. That was the best thing you could have done. You’re a very, very good girl.”
She didn’t seem convinced as she turned to leave. She got about four steps away from me, when I said, “Hey.” She turned back. “Can I have a hug?”
There they were—the Shirley Temple dimples. She ran to me and buried her little head in my shoulder. As I held her close, I could feel her sobs and her tears hitting my neck.
I looked up to see a tall man, Dad, at the end of the counter with tears in his eyes and his lower lip quivering. He smiled and gave me a thumbs-up. I gently turned her around, facing her dad. As she walked away, he said, “Okay, come on. Let’s go home.”
Although I did the best I could at verbally conveying how much, despite her actions, God truly cared for her and loved her, the real breakthrough didn’t occur until I put those words of love into action. The words may or may not have been adequate by themselves. But I hope she will remember the feeling of forgiveness and love from the hug, the action. There’s something about the physical action of a hug that mere words just can’t convey.
I stood up and turned to see about ten people wiping their eyes. We all stood there for a few minutes and discussed which Maxwell House Christmas commercial made us cry hardest.
When I got home and had time to process, I thought about the seraphim, ones of love, flying around God. We all shouted together, “Holy, holy, holy is the Lord God Almighty! The whole earth is full of his glory!”
