The Solid Rock - a Meditation

My hope is built on nothing less

Than Jesus Christ, my righteousness;

Why do I need hope?

Because I don't know what's coming next.

Hope is that beautiful grace that whispers: all is not lost. Even the darkest storm will pass.

I'm in a dark place as I write this, which makes me think it's a good place to be for this particular project.

My hope isn't built on my efforts, my holiness, my goodness. I cannot look back over my life and claim credit for any good I’ve done. My default inclination is selfishness at best. Nor can I look ahead to a harvest of goodness, for I have sown a crop contrary to God’s will.

I read of God's expectations in scripture and find myself identifying far more with the unrighteousness and detestable than with the righteous.

Where then can I reasonably place my hope?

Jesus Christ, God incarnate, stepped down from heaven to live among us in the dust. And what a life He lived. He displayed his mastery over earth, sea, sky, the machinations of evil men and even death itself. He did it with incomprehensible grace. The more I consider the condescension of Christ, the more incredible I find His willingness to consider me worth saving.

And that's something to dwell on.

Christ considered me worth saving.

But to save me costs a life. A life He willingly gave.

In saving me, Christ declared I'm worth dying for. Then He proved it.

He is the foundation of my hope.

I dare not trust the sweetest frame,

But wholly lean on Jesus’ name.

My frame of mind right now is ashamed and fearful. I am in a time of turmoil in my soul. And the worst of it is that I have nothing and no one to rail against. No. My soul crushing struggle is entirely self made. It is the result of my choices, my actions, and often my inactions.

This inner turbulence would quickly drive me away from Christ if my reliance was on my frame of mind. It's easy to trust God and praise Him in the sunshine of His blessings. It is a far different matter to trust and praise Him when the darkness of my willing sin would obscure every good thing in my life.

Thankfully, my support is not to be found in the vagaries of my thoughts and feelings. Instead I cling, body and soul, to the name that is above every name: Jesus Christ, God's Son, Savior.

On Christ, the solid Rock, I stand;

All other ground is sinking sand,

All other ground is sinking sand.

There is an important function served by powerful truths couched in simple terms.

Jesus Christ is the solid Rock of Matthew 7:24-27 “Anyone who listens to my teaching and follows it is wise, like a person who builds a house on solid rock. Though the rain comes in torrents and the floodwaters rise and the winds beat against that house, it won’t collapse because it is built on bedrock. But anyone who hears my teaching and doesn’t obey it is foolish, like a person who builds a house on sand. When the rains and floods come and the winds beat against that house, it will collapse with a mighty crash.”

When darkness veils His lovely face,

I rest on His unchanging grace;

What a personal line. I find myself feeling distant from my Lord and Savior. I cannot sense Him. I cannot feel Him near. I'm not certain I ever have.

I am prone to extreme emotional responses, so I know I cannot trust my feelings. That's good when those feelings are oppressive or hateful, but it's sad when those feelings are jubilant. Is this the presence of God? Or simply the emotional response to stimulus?

This is where this line is a comfort to me.

The evidence in scripture - as well as in my life - indicates the truth of God's changeless nature. So much of my faith is tied to that attribute. Even though I may schizophrenically flounder through my life, whether I can sense Him or not, I am certain that the name of Jesus is not only sufficient to hold me close when I would throw myself into the fire, but in fact is the only name by which I may be saved.

In every high and stormy gale,

My anchor holds within the veil.

I do enough damage to myself. The world, other people and even Satan himself don't need to knock me down.

But sometimes they do.

Hebrews 6:19-20 is precious. “This hope is a strong and trustworthy anchor for our souls. It leads us through the curtain into God’s inner sanctuary. Jesus has already gone in there for us. He has become our eternal High Priest in the order of Melchizedek.”

Whether attacks come from within or without, even to the point of my death, of which I am terrified, I choose to trust to the best of my ability, that my anchor lies on the other side of that curtain. And when the time comes that the strand of my life is pulled through that frightening veil, I hope to discover that He is on the other side, holding that strand so firmly that I can go nowhere but into His presence to live with Him forever as His beloved child.

His oath, His covenant, His blood,

Support me in the whelming flood;

When all around my soul gives way,

He then is all my hope and stay.

With the advent of sin in the Garden of Eden mankind was no longer permitted in the presence of God. We abdicated our privileged position.

God promised his people a way back to him. He made an agreement with Abraham that a way would come. He made an agreement with Moses to reveal his nature and design to prepare us for that way. And He made a new agreement with us through Jesus, Who is the Way. Jesus' blood, the blood of God, not the blood of animals, purifies us once and for all so that we may return to Him.

These agreements are a part of that very Rock that keeps me well above the chaos and death that swirl around me.

When He shall come with trumpet sound,

Oh, may I then in Him be found;

Dressed in His righteousness, alone,

Faultless to stand before the throne.

And this is the glorious result, that in spite of my constant infidelity, I find myself awash in the eternal amazing grace of the King of kings.

I cannot feel it. I cannot see it or hear it. But throughout my life I have seen the evidence of it. So even though my faith is weak and imperfect, the source and subject of that faith is strong and eternal.

I know I will come out of this dark time, I always have. Each time I hope and pray not to return. Maybe this time I will remain in his marvelous light.

But if I don't, and if once again darkness veils His lovely face, I will cling to the Rock, trusting that even though I cannot feel Him, Jesus will hold me close even when I would let go.