How Firm a Foundation -We Never Sing the Best Verses (Part 7 of 7)
I find it interesting that the hymn How Firm a Foundation
writer changes the third person point of view in the first two verses to that
of the Savior in the remaining verses.
Few hymns communicate as if the Savior is speaking directly to us like
this hymn.
For me, this begs the question, how does a perfect person, a
God, know what I am going through? Does the Lord's power offset anything he may
have experienced when compared to us? I don’t think so.
It would help me know that Christ’s power somehow does not
interfere with his mortality. Electricity
in a power grid is always constant, except in a power outage. Still, one can
only use the power if the building has the proper wires, the proper outlets
installed, and the breakers to use and regulate it. The analogy is sloppy, but similarly, Christ’s
Godhood did not change, but his mortal form was subject to progress much the
same way.
And Jesus increased in wisdom and stature, and in favour with God and man.
—Luke 2:52
Christ's mortal form was subject to everything we are. He
likely became ill, and he experienced pain. He may have had emotions, which, if
left unchecked, could affect him and others.
He experienced love, lust, humor, greed, and any other emotion or desire
that we do.
In the Marvel movie Captain America, The First Avenger, Steve
Rogers is picked to undergo a procedure that will turn him into a “super-soldier.”
Steve is small in stature, physically weak, and poor in health. The inventor of
the formula and procedure administered on Steve is a German scientist named Dr.
Erskin. Dr. Erskin defected from Germany; he did not like what the Nazis were
doing.
Before the procedure, Dr. Erskin speaks to Steve:
This is why you were chosen. Because a strong man, who has known power all his life, will lose respect for that power. But a weak man knows the value of strength and knows compassion…Whatever happens, tomorrow; you must promise me one thing. That you will stay who you are; not a perfect soldier, but a good man.
—Dr. Abraham Erskin, Captain America—The First Avenger
In the Book of Mormon, one of the books of scripture
accepted by The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, there is a
prophet, Nephi, who had a vision of the Savior about 500 years before His birth:
And it came to pass that I saw the heavens open; and an angel came down and stood before me; and he said unto me: Nephi, what beholdest thou?
And I said unto him: A virgin, most beautiful and fair above all other virgins.
And he said unto me: Knowest thou the condescension of God?
And I said unto him: I know that he loveth his children; nevertheless, I do not know the meaning of all things.
And he said unto me: Behold, the virgin whom thou seest is the mother of the Son of God, after the manner of the flesh.
And it came to pass that I beheld that she was carried away in the Spirit; and after she had been carried away in the Spirit for the space of a time the angel spake unto me, saying: Look!
And I looked and beheld the virgin again, bearing a child in her arms.
And the angel said unto me: Behold the Lamb of God, yea, even the Son of the Eternal Father!
–1 Nephi 11:14-21
The angel called Christ’s birth the “condescension of God.” Also,
about Mary, the angel said that she was the mother of the Son of God, “after
the manner of the flesh.”
The use of the word “condescension” often has negative
overtones. We often use it when describing a patronizing attitude. It’s another definition that the angel is referring
to. When someone condescends, they
voluntarily descend in rank or status.
In Shakespeare’s Henry V, King Henry disguises himself so
that he can walk among his men. His goal
is to understand those who serve him better.
He understands that his Kingly station prevents him from empathizing
with the men who have devoted their lives to his cause.
Henry’s condescension allows him to understand his army's
hearts and, in my opinion, this understanding gives him the tools that he needs
to uplift his men just before going to battle.
When he said:
…for he today that sheds his blood with me shall be my brother; be he ne’er so vile, this day shall gentle his condition; and gentlemen in England now-a-bed shall think themselves accursed they were not here, and hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks that fought with us upon Saint Crispin’s day.
–Shakespeare, The Life of King Henry the Fifth, Act 4, Scene 3
The condescension of the King provided the path towards a
brotherhood forged at the Battle of Agincourt.
The play depicts the King fighting alongside his men. Everyone who lived and died, regardless of
their class or station ascended to nobility, referred to by the statement “shall
gentle his condition” because of the King's condescension.
Christ's life was not a token act. Like Shakespeare's King
Henry, He fights alongside us. He
experienced all of the hardship, pain, and trials of any other mortal. When his friend Lazarus died, he wept. This
was not a fake display, and He knew Lazarus would rise again; this was the real
heartache of losing a friend.
Again, the devil taketh him up into an exceeding high mountain, and sheweth him all the kingdoms of the world, and the glory of them;
And saith unto him, All these things will I give thee, if thou wilt fall down and worship me.
Then saith Jesus unto him, Get thee hence, Satan: for it is written, Thou shalt worship the Lord thy God, and him only shalt thou serve.
—Mathew 4:8-10
When Satan tempted Christ, he threw
everything at Him. Satan, the master of lies, used Christ's own power and
Godhood as a means to sway him. Even in
temptation, Christ’s experience was profound.
Christ asks us for our hearts, he asks us for our will, he
asks us to turn our life to him or, as the writer of How Firm a Foundation
puts it, The soul that on Jesus has Leaned for repose. The Lord will return
tenfold and more. Here are some of the words of Isaiah:
He is despised and rejected of men; a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief: and we hid as it were our faces from him; he was despised, and we esteemed him not.
Surely he hath borne our griefs, and carried our sorrows: yet we did esteem him stricken, smitten of God, and afflicted. --Isaiah 53:3-4
Christ blazed the path for us. He was resurrected,
conquering death. He also experienced mortality and knows how to comfort,
strengthen, enable, and save us.
Christ also knew what it is to be forsaken:
And about the ninth hour Jesus cried with a loud voice, saying, Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani? that is to say, My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?—Mathew 27:46
In the Ensign, the monthly magazine for members of my
church, contributor Adam C. Olsen made the following observation about the
words Christ spoke, “why hast thou forsaken me,” this is what he said:
…I was caught off guard one day when I read the first verse of Psalm 22: “My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?”
I had never considered that the Savior may have been quoting sacred writings when He spoke those words in His agony on the cross (see Matthew 27:46). That idea led to a profound spiritual realization.
Almost all of us at some time have wondered, “O God, where art thou?” (D&C 121:1). That question has entered my mind most often during moments of spiritual uncertainty or distress.
For that reason the Savior’s words seemed to beg the question: Did His cry also rise from uncertainty—even doubt? Did it mean that there was a question for which my all-powerful, all-knowing Savior had no answer in the very moment my salvation depended on His power to provide all answers and overcome all things…?
…The very act of calling out to His Father in His greatest hour of need using words from holy writings was not only an evidence of faith but also a profound teaching opportunity.
—Adam C. Olsen, Never Forsaken, Ensign January 2011
We, through the Savior, have the power to overcome all sin,
pain, heartache, or anything else. His gift
to us. Because we have this gift, essentially the power of God at our
fingertips through Christ, it doesn’t lessen our experiences, trials, and
suffering. The same is true about Jesus.
He had the power to break the bonds of death and sin, and He experienced
mortality and pain most profoundly. He
knows what we are going through, and He is waiting with His arms out; unlike
what He went through, He will not forsake us.
The soul that on Jesus has leaned for repose,
I will not, I cannot desert to its foes;
That soul, though all hell should endeavor to shake,
I’ll never, no never, no never forsake.
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