In a few moments, we are going to sing a hymn that many of us know well.  

 

How firm a foundation, ye saints of the Lord,

Is laid for your faith in God’s excellent word!

What more can God say than to you hath been said,

To you that for refuge to Jesus have fled?

 

The hymn celebrates the stability and confidence that we are invited to experience in faith – a sure and certain foundation for our lives, a refuge, a source of comfort and strength.  To have such faith does, indeed, offer our lives a firm foundation.

 

But what is equally interesting about this hymn is that there is nothing, in the verses of this hymn, that assumes, or suggests, even for a moment that all in life is going to go smoothly, or well, or comfortably for those with such faith.

 

To the contrary, the subsequent verses of the hymn attest to the struggles, the challenges, the tumults that each and every one of us are, and will face, as we make our journey through this life.  Yes, faith can offer, and can be, a firm foundation, but we are wise to pay attention to the subsequent verses, and the assumptions that those words make about the nature of life.

 

When through the deep waters I call thee to go,

The rivers of woe shall not thee overthrow…

When through fiery trials thy pathway shall lie

My grace, all sufficient, shall be thy supply

The flames shall not hurt thee; I only design

Thy dross to consume and thy gold to refine.

 

They are reassuring words, but they are also realistic words, serving to remind us that faith offer no exemptions from deep waters, the fiery trials, the rivers of woe, that also are a part of this mortal journey.  

 

Faith never promises smooth sailing on the waters of life.

 

The words of that hymn are interesting for us to ponder as we turn our attention to the passage from Isaiah 43 that is suggested, for this particular Sunday in the church year.   

 

The words were offered to the people who had suffered in Babylon for so many years.  They had been exiles, cut off from all that provided them with a sense of security, and stability, and blessing.  They had even, at times, felt forsaken and forgotten by God.

 

Their scribes and prophets and priests had come up with many speculations about why they had been subjected to such a prolonged time of suffering and struggle.  Perhaps it was the fault of the kings and leaders of their community; perhaps it was because of their own injustices and greed; perhaps it was because they, themselves, had broken covenant with God, ignored the Law and worshipped other gods and idols.  As with every time in human history, people were in a time of great difficulty and wanted to know who, or what to blame for their predicament.

 

But the prophet Isaiah, who had not been shy about assigning and attributing responsibility, was now catching sight of a different vision, and in so doing offering a transforming opportunity for the renewal of faith, of trust, of confidence, and even of joy.

 

But now thus says the Lord,

He who created you, O Jacob,

He who formed you, O Israel.

Do not fear, for I have redeemed you;

I have called you by name, you are mine.

 

And then, in words that the writer of “How Firm a Foundation” clearly drew upon, the prophet offers a stunning insight into a different way to view the calamities, the struggles, the challenges of life – “when you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you.”

 

When through the deep waters I call thee to go,

The rivers of woe shall not thee overthrow…

When through fiery trials thy pathway shall lie

My grace, all sufficient, shall be thy supply

The flames shall not hurt thee; I only design

Thy dross to consume and thy gold to refine.

 

It is one thing to read these words on the pages of some old passage from the Bible, or to sing them as part of some hymn that we know well.  

 

But it can be another thing altogether to actually believe this promise, and to cling to it in the midst of life’s most difficult adversities.

 

It can be difficult to rest in these promises, to remain convinced of this firm foundation, when we find ourselves in the deep waters that threaten to overwhelm us, when we feel scarred and burned by the fiery trials, when we fear being washed away in the rivers of woe that lie in our path.  

 

But in those moments when we feel like we’re drowning, when we feel like we’re overwhelmed, when we feel like our lives are being consumed, when we feel like all hope is lost, what would it mean – in those moments – to hear these words from Isaiah as a word of good news to us?   

 

What would it mean – and what would it do to our faith, to our spirituality, to our existence – if we truly took to heart the message that this prophetic promise was seeking to convey to us?  That even in the most difficult times, we are invited to live without fear, to know that we are still cared for by the One who loves us, to root our trust in the One who is able to lead us through the deepest waters and most frightening fires of this life, in the daring confidence that led the prophet Isaiah to write that this vision was rooted in the God who chose to proclaim to a dispirited, exiled, weary people that “you are precious in my sight, and honoured, and I love you.”

 

Today is also a day when we remember the baptism of Jesus by John the Baptist in the waters of the Jordan River.  It was a profoundly important moment in the story of Jesus’ life, a moment that revealed Jesus’ identity as God’s beloved Son, but also a moment when the source of Jesus’ spiritual power was poured out upon him, preparing him for the wonder-working tasks that would demonstrate his power and authority in this world.  

 

But what is interesting for us to realize is that what lay ahead, for him, was not always going to go well, or smoothly, or easily.  It would not always be smooth sailing on the waters of life for Jesus, any more than it had been for the people of Israel in Babylon, nor as it always has been, or will be, for any one of us.

 

For Jesus, there would be difficult days ahead.  Yes, he was the powerful, Spirit-anointed, beloved Son of God – but that did not mean that things were always going to go well or easily.  Rather, there were soon going to be days of trial and temptation in the wilderness; days of conflict and controversy with the religious and political leaders of his time; days of having to contend with dangerous and frightening powers that were twisting the spirits and souls of people who came to him for help; days of misunderstandings with his closest friends and followers; days of betrayal and abandonment; days of suffering and anguish; and ultimately, a day when he would be forced to endure a painful, humiliating and seemingly pointless death.  For Jesus, the powerful and beloved status that was announced on the day of his baptism did not excuse him from the deep waters and fiery trials yet to come.

 

And yet, what was remarkable about the Gospel accounts of Jesus’ life was that he demonstrated a profound and trusting dependence on God throughout all of those difficult moments.  Yes, that trust was tested and sometimes seemed to wear thin. There were times when he wished that the difficulties could be lifted from him – take this cup from me; there were times when he himself, knew what it felt like to experience a sense of God-forsakenness – my God, my God, why have you abandoned me?


So often, when we think of Jesus, we envision him as having a stable and secure faith, and unwavering trust, a confidence in God’s presence and purposes at work in his life.  But in so doing, I think that we rob Jesus of the very real struggles, the challenges, the anxiety that the Gospels clearly suggest that he endured. It was not always easy for him, any more than it always easy for any one of us to live with unwavering trust and faith, particularly in the deep waters and fiery trials that Isaiah envisioned, and that Jesus experienced.  

 

And maybe this is good for us to remember and to ponder when we think of Jesus’ baptism – that his baptism was not simply into the waters of the Jordan River, but it was into the deep waters of what it means to be truly human, into the challenges and struggles of mortal existence, into the rivers of woe and the fiery trials of this life.

 

And the reason why that is good to remember is that he has demonstrated, for each and every one of us, that the deep waters, the rivers of woe, the fiery trials, will not have the final claim upon us.  The One who cried out, in his most of greatest anguish, “my God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” was also the One who cried out, “into your hands I commend my Spirit” – even while still hanging on the cross.  And even though the cross was a horrible, painful experience, for him, it was only prelude to the power and glory of God being revealed in an empty tomb.

 

Although he had felt it, he was never forsaken, never abandoned, never truly alone.  The same One who declared that he was the beloved Son at the moment of his baptism was with him, through death itself, and then into a new and resurrected life.

 

And it is that confidence, that good news, that not only was envisioned by Isaiah, and experienced by Jesus himself, and celebrated by the hymn writer, but that continues to stand at the very heart of Christian spirituality.  That even in the most difficult moments of life, we do not walk alone; that even in the deep waters, and in the rivers of woe, and the fiery trials, there is One who is with us, inviting us to let go of our fears, summoning us to hear, once again, that our lives are precious in the sight of God, and honoured, and beloved.

 

Or, as the hymn shall remind us,

 

The soul that on Jesus hath leaned for repose

I will not – I will not – desert to his foes;

That soul, though all hell should endeavor to shake,

I’ll never – no never – no never forsake.

 

And that is good news.

 

Thanks be to God.


Amen.