Part II — The First Hierarchy: Before the Throne of God
15 min read
It is the year King Uzziah died. Jerusalem is in political uncertainty. The prophet Isaiah goes to the Temple.
What happens next is unlike anything else in Scripture.
Isaiah 6:1-4 "In the year that King Uzziah died I saw the Lord sitting upon a throne, high and lifted up; and the train of his robe filled the temple. Above him stood the seraphim. Each had six wings: with two he covered his face, and with two he covered his feet, and with two he flew. And one called to another and said: 'Holy, holy, holy is the Lord of hosts; the whole earth is full of his glory!' And the foundations of the thresholds shook at the voice of him who called, and the house was filled with smoke."
The thresholds shake. The house fills with smoke. And Isaiah, one of the greatest prophets who ever lived, does not see this vision and feel inspired. He does not reach for his scroll and begin composing. He cries out:
Isaiah 6:5 "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!"
Lost. The Hebrew word is nidmeti — silenced, undone, as one might be undone by annihilation. The vision of the Seraphim and the Holy God does not produce enthusiasm. It produces the overwhelming awareness of one's own unworthiness in the presence of utter holiness.
Then one of the Seraphim — these burning, six-winged beings who have been contemplating the face of God since the beginning of creation — flies to Isaiah. It takes a burning coal from the altar with tongs, touches his lips, and says: "Behold, this has touched your lips; your guilt is taken away, and your sin atoned for."
Only then does Isaiah hear the question: "Whom shall I send, and who will go for us?" Only then does he answer: "Here I am! Send me."
The purification precedes the commission. The encounter with the Seraphim produces a prophet.
The Hebrew word seraphim (singular: seraph) comes from the root saraph, meaning "to burn." They are the "burning ones" or "incandescent ones." Their name is not a description of their appearance (though they are associated with fire) — it is a description of their inner condition. They burn with the love of God.
Each Seraphim has six wings. Most people, taught to picture angels as winged beings, assume all six wings are for flight. Scripture says otherwise.
Four of six wings exist not for movement, for ministry, for any outward purpose at all — but for the sheer act of reverencing God. The Seraphim, the most powerful created beings in existence, use most of their visible capacity not to do anything, but to adore.
This is the first and most important thing the Seraphim teach us about God: in His presence, the appropriate response is not action. It is adoration.
The Seraphim are the highest of all created beings. They stand closest to God — not spatially, but in terms of their participation in divine love and their resemblance to God.
Pseudo-Dionysius wrote of the Seraphim as "wise Loves" — meaning that their love is not blind or emotional but wisdom-saturated: they love God through total knowledge of Him. They are not loving a vague divine warmth. They love a Person they know with perfect clarity — and that knowledge makes their love burn all the hotter.
Their perpetual song of praise — the Trisagion, "Holy, holy, holy" — is not a vocal exercise. It is the full deployment of their will in adoration. Everything they are is concentrated in that cry.
The Sanctus — "Holy, Holy, Holy, Lord God of hosts" — quotes the Seraphim's song directly. This is not a commemorative quotation. It is a participation.
Hebrews 12:22 declares that when Christians gather for worship, they come "to the heavenly Jerusalem, and to an innumerable company of angels." The Seraphim are present at every Mass. When the congregation sings the Sanctus, they are joining a hymn that has never once stopped since the first moment of angelic creation — a hymn that the Seraphim were burning with before the universe existed.
You have been given access to that choir. The question the Seraphim's example poses is simple: are you in it?
In the spiritual life, the goal of contemplative prayer is precisely this: to be set on fire with divine love, to participate by grace in what the Seraphim possess by nature. The Seraphim are not only inhabitants of heaven — they are the standard toward which the transformed soul moves.
The mystics — John of the Cross, Teresa of Ávila, Bonaventure — speak of a point in the spiritual life where the soul is no longer primarily moved by fear of punishment or even by hope of reward, but by love alone. Love that burns. Love that is its own justification. The tradition calls this the unitive way — and its endpoint, in created beings, looks something like a Seraph.
Next: We have met the beings defined by love. Now we meet the beings defined by something equally astonishing — knowledge. The Cherubim have been guarding something since the garden. They are the angels whose names mean "fullness of wisdom" — and they have been present at every place in Scripture where God pledged to make Himself known.