Isaiah 43:1-7 is an oracle promising deliverance to Israel.[1] The date of this promise is during the exile. Much of the material in chapters 40-55 of the book of Isaiah emphasizes consolation and deliverance for an oppressed and demoralized people, which stands in contrast to the oracles of judgment found in the first 39 chapters of the book. II Isaiah preached to the exiles in order to connect their experiences before, during and after their captivity. In its theological compass, this passage combines, in a brief scope, a sweeping panorama of both time and space. Redemption for Israel involves Israel's past, present and future, and not Israel alone. Salvation is a matter of cosmic dimensions.
The Babylonian Empire uprooted Jews from their homes, and transported them to the Babylonian capital. The Babylonian rulers seem to have followed the advice, "Keep your friends close and your enemies closer." After all, they exiled only the political, intellectual and economic elite, the ruling class. They settled the elite in comfortable quarters, in a neighborhood of the city all their own. In the process, the Babylonian overlords made certain there were none from the defeated nation's leadership who could foment rebellion back home.
Most of us move in this mobile society. We will move across the continent, if work or family demands it. The exiles remembered the promise to Abraham of land and to Moses of a land flowing with milk and honey. They remembered the promise to King David for his descendants, for the City of Jerusalem, and for the Temple. Such promises stood for 500 plus years. The exile put it all into question.
1However, now, thus says the LORD. Here is the standard prophetic formula, occurring over 400 times in the Old Testament. The formula has its roots in the stereotyped language used by messengers and emissaries throughout the ancient Near East, who were understood to be speaking not on their own behalf, but as a “mouthpiece” for the one who had dispatched them, usually (but not always) a king or some other ruler. For examples of the formula being used in the Bible by ordinary people of admittedly high status, see Genesis 32:3-4 [Jacob’s sending messengers to placate Esau]; Genesis 45:9 [Joseph sending his brothers back to their father in Canaan]; Numbers 20:14 [Moses’ sending messengers to Edom on behalf of Israel]; Judges 11:14-15 [Jephthah’s response to the king of the Ammonites]; etc.).]
Four verbs in this opening verse -- "created," "formed," "redeemed" and "called" -- coming in rapid succession, compress a wealth of theological insight and religious sentiment into a few lines, setting the pace and tone for the rich oracle that follows.
The prophet identifies the Lord as the one who created (bara’) you. The Hebrew verb create appears in verses 1 and 7. This same verb, appearing in such places as Genesis 1:1 and Psalm 51:10 (v. 12 in Hebrew), refers in the Hebrew Bible only to the creative activity of the Lord. O Jacob, the one who formed (yatsar) you. A parallel to “create” is the Hebrew verb we translate as form or fashion. It also appears in verses 1 and 7. The word is most often used in its mechanistic sense, and usually designates the activity of a potter or carver (e.g., Isaiah 29:16, 30:14, 41:25; Jeremiah 18:4, 6, etc.). Occasionally the subject is God (as in the forming of the first humans and animals in Genesis 2:7, 8, Isaiah 29:16, and Paul’s citation of that passage in Romans 9:20), and when the object is Israel as a people, this use of the verb is restricted to the book of Isaiah (27:11; 43:1, 21; 44:2, 24; 45:9, 11; 64:7).
The prophet describes Yahweh as the one who “created” and “formed” the people of Israel, using the language of creation that runs throughout II Isaiah (e.g., 40:26; 41:20; 42:5; 45:8; 12; 18; etc.). Creation is a prominent theme in II Isaiah, used to anchor Israel’s relationship with its God in terms broader than the merely geopolitical. The prophet uses creation language less commonly to refer specifically to Israel’s creation than to the creation of the natural world. This important shift in theological emphasis was crucial if Israel was to continue to trust in the God who had included a homeland as part of his covenant with Israel’s ancestors. By redirecting the attention of the chosen people from the loss of their political and geographical independence to the cosmic scope of the power of God, the prophet of the exile reminded the people that their covenant relationship had survived even the experience of exile.
O Israel: Do not fear [verse 5 as well]. “Jacob/Israel,” a designation for the chosen people, a particular favorite of the prophet Isaiah (e.g., 9:8; 14:1; 27:6; 29:23; etc.; the reversed order “Israel/Jacob” also occurs in Isaiah, e.g., 10:20). He uses the designation most commonly in the parallel poetic couplets that make up many of the prophet’s oracles, as here. Unlike the expression “Israel/Judah,” which denoted the northern and southern kingdoms (even after they ceased to exist as independent entities), “Israel/Jacob” are two names for the same entity, the chosen people, based on the change of name from “Jacob” to “Israel” of the nation’s eponymous ancestor (Genesis 32:28). The parallelism of "Jacob ... Israel" is a standard biblical designation for the entire people of Israel, stretching back to the earliest examples of Hebrew poetry (e.g., Genesis 49:7). Although the historical Hebrews lived for a time as the kingdoms of Israel and Judah, the ancient patronymic designation "Jacob" never completely died out as a name for the Israelites; in its form "house of Jacob," it was a particular favorite of Isaiah, occurring more times in that book than in any other. It is fitting that an oracle in ancient poetic style and composed of the primordial theme of creation and the identity-shaping theme of exodus should employ this archaic designation in its opening verse.
They are not to fear, for I have redeemed [go’el] you. Another prominent theme in II Isaiah is redemption: (see also 41:14; 43:14; 44:6, 22, 23, 24; 47:4; 48:20; 51:10; 52:3, 9; etc.). The idea of redemption in the Hebrew Bible has its basis in mundane customs and laws dating back to the tribal period. The basic idea is a straightforward one. In an agricultural society, an extended family’s means of economic survival was the land it was able to work. If, through adverse circumstances (such as the death of the primary workers in war or drought or other agricultural misfortune), a unit of the extended family felt forced to sell its property, it was urgent that other members of the extended family attempt to buy back — redeem — the property. The reason was for the particular sake of the individual family, and for the general sake of the extended family. We find a version of this basic and frequent scenario in the book of Ruth. By the time the concept of redemption has entered the theological vocabulary of the Hebrew Bible, the idea had taken on various specialized nuances, but the basic idea of an owner (God) recovering a possession (Israel) that was somehow lost or alienated persists. God's redemption of Israel occurs most frequently in the context of Egyptian bondage and Babylonian exile, and in the book of Isaiah, the verb occurs chiefly in Second and Third Isaiah (e.g., 44:22, 23; 48:20; 52:9; 63:9 -- it does not occur at all in chapters 1-39). II Isaiah uses the idea, with no apparent sense of contradiction in asserting that both Israel’s punishment and redemption are at the hand of its God. In the culture of the time, if someone were in bondage to someone, the next of kin, as “redeemer,” could ransom/buy someone out of servitude. Redemption denotes God's salvific activity for Israel based on the relationship that exists between them: Israel is God's chosen (1 Kings 3:8), God's firstborn son (Exodus 4:22), God's beloved (Isaiah 5:1), God's treasured possession (Deuteronomy 7:6). It is out of this supramundane reality that God acts on Israel's behalf (and not, opposed to some writers on this subject, because of a "blood relationship," which did not exist between Israel and its God and would have been considered an abominable idea to the writers of the OT). God's gracious acts toward Israel in the past form the basis of the assurance Israel may take in God's continuing to act in Israel's future. See New Testament passages, where Jesus is to be the one who made ransom for us: Mark 10:45; I Timothy 2:5-6; I Peter 1:18-19; Revelation 5:9. Similarly, Jesus is our Redeemer: Luke 1:68-69; Galatians 3:13-14; Romans 3:21-26; Ephesians 1:7-8a and Colossians 1:13-14. The meaning is that neither Judah nor we can rescue/ransom/redeem ourselves from bondage, for only God can.
I have called you by name; you are mine. In many cultures, to name someone is to endow the person with special meaning or power. In Genesis 2:18-24 the Lord God brought created beings to the man/Adam to see what he would name them, including the one closest to him, whom Man called Woman. In this passage God tenderly remembers the people called by God by God’s very own name — God’s majestic person. Moreover, there is no stronger biblical name than is Lord (YHWH/Yahweh). God will consequently show care for the YHWH-named people of Jacob = Israel = (in context) Judah, because they belong to God, created for God’s own glory. (See similarly Isaiah 40:25-31.) Some Christian traditions historically have name-giving as part of the baptism of a young child; and all followers of Jesus can come to the realization that we have the name of Jesus Christ placed upon us. Barth discusses the phrase of the Lord calling them by name in the context of honor. He stresses that addressing humanity by name does not come as if a meteor falling into our midst. Such an honor from God arrives to us as those created in the image of God.[2]
Verses 2-6 flesh out what the statements made in verse 1 and 7 that the Lord God has created, named, and delivered the people of God. {2} When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; [see verse 5 as well.] and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you. The imagery here is similar to the Song of Songs 8:7: "Many waters cannot quench love, neither can floods drown it." The verse gives several analogical examples of how God will deliver Judah. Life-threatening situations will not destroy them. Such imagery to denote threats to Israel's life are generalized terms intended to recall Israel's preeminent liberation, the exodus (Exodus 14-15), when waters and fire shaped Israel's understanding of God's care and activity in history. The mention of Egypt in verse 3 reinforces the echo of the exodus, as does the theologically complex statement that other nations have been given in exchange for Israel's life (v. 4). Although there is no account in the Hebrew Bible of God's handing over other nations to perdition in exchange for Israel (analogous, for example, to God's surrendering of Job to Satan), it is likely that Isaiah is referring to Egypt's hardheartedness as resulting in that nation's suffering under the plagues of the exodus. God (is) with us is the central biblical promise, most completely fulfilled in Jesus, named Emmanuel (Matthew 1:23), from Immanuel of Isaiah 7:14, meaning quite literally “With us (is) God.” God-with-us bears us up through situations that would otherwise totally overwhelm us and send us to our doom. As part of the creation imagery in II Isaiah, imagery of primordial and theophanic chaos is also an important element in the pattern of loss-and-redemption (see esp. 51:10).
Thalassophobia. Thalassa means “sea,” and phobos means “fear,” so thalassophobia is “fear of the sea.” This is a legitimate phobia, when you think about it. The ocean can be a place of danger and even death. Take to the water, and you have to deal with waves, wind, tides, currents, rocky shorelines and ever-changing weather conditions. You know what lies at the bottom of the ocean and twitches, do you not? A nervous wreck.
The imagery of the waters of overwhelming us is a powerful one. We know of hurricanes and floods. We know what raging waters can do. We know what this feels like, do we not? At times, each of us is going to face what seems like an insurmountable obstacle. Passing organic chemistry. Running a marathon. Getting dumped by a romantic partner. Surviving cancer. Raising teenagers. Being fired. Changing careers. Experiencing the death of a spouse. The sound and fury of the raging water is overwhelming. We begin to shake, and wonder how we are ever going to get across. Some people turn and run away. They drop the class, abandon their athletic training, avoid romantic relationships, ignore the cancer, retreat from their children, fall into a midlife career crisis or refuse to face their grief. When the waters are raging, this is understandable. Ultimately, such a response is self-destructive. Those who retreat from the edge are ignoring the promise of God: "When you pass through the waters, I will be with you." Both parts of this verse are equally true. Isaiah says, "When you pass through the waters" ... not "If you pass through the waters." We are all going to face the terror of raging waters. Living guarantees us such experiences. The second part of the verse is every bit as certain: "I will be with you," says the one Lord God Almighty, maker of heaven and earth. "I will be with you."
When you walk through fire, it shall not burn you, and the flame shall not consume you. The waters, river, fire and flame through which Israel must pass, may be an allusion to the primordial watery chaos from which God brought forth the original creation, on the one hand, and the fiery imagery of the divine theophany on the other (see, e.g., Exodus 19:18). The latter imagery may also allude to the apocalyptic “day of the Lord,” at the end of time, which is also depicted as a scene of fiery destruction (e.g., Isaiah 13:9; Zephaniah 1:18; etc.). Regardless of the source of the imagery, the point is that no matter what Israel must endure, the nation will not be alone, but its creator and redeemer will accompany it. Therefore, God’s people need not fear. Swirling waters, raging rivers, and searing fires will come. Such threats may happen due to our ineptitude, external forces beyond our control, or simply because adversity is part of the nature of life. However, in the face of such challenges, God offers the promise that God is with us. When obstacles arise, God will be powerful and compassionate toward us.
The greatest miracle God may provide us is not removal of that which threatens us, such as a physical healing, but the miracle of giving us strength in the face of suffering. God's promise is to remove all our suffering in the fullness of eternal life, though not necessarily in the provisional experience of eternal life we have in this life. In this world, we will sometimes weep, suffer and die. Nevertheless, in the New Jerusalem, "God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain, for the former things are passed away" (Revelation 2:14).
{3} For I am the LORD your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Savior. Self-identification, with Scripture frequently identifies God as “the Holy One of Israel” in Scripture, most frequently in Isaiah (25 occurrences of the expression, in all three major divisions of the book). The Bible identifies Jesus as the Holy One (of God) in such passages as Mark 1:24, John 6:69, and Revelation 3:7. If we reflect upon the notion of the infinity of God, the incomparability of the Holy One means that the designation “the Holy One of Israel” becomes a guarantee of the hope of redemption by the exiles.[3] “Savior” is a verbal participle meaning “the one who is saving/rescuing you.” The prophet juxtaposes “LORD” and “Savior” elsewhere in Isaiah, in 43:11, 45:21, 49:26, and 60:16. Linguistically the Hebrew word yasha’ relates to the name “Jesus,” who the New Testament identifies as the Lord who would save/deliver not only Jews (Judahites) but also the people of the entire world (see, for example, Matthew 1:21; John 3:16-18; Acts 15 passim; Acts 16:31; Romans 10:9-13). Jesus Christ/Messiah is “Lord” and “Savior” in the same verse in such passages as Luke 2:11, Philippians 3:20; and 2 Peter 3:18.
I give Egypt as your ransom, Ethiopia and Seba in exchange for you. Ezekiel 29:17-20, we have the suggestion that God will give Egypt to Cyrus in exchange for Judah, although this is not an historical allusion. Egypt is fraught with ambivalence in Scripture. In the book of Genesis, Egypt is the place of refuge from famine. However, in Exodus, Egypt is the place of Israel’s enslavement, from which the Lord delivered them. In later periods, Egypt became again a place where many groups of Jews found places to settle; e.g., see Jeremiah 44:1. The later chapters of Isaiah especially emphasize the Lord God of Israel as creator of the entire world and consequently God and Lord over all creation. In that light the Lord could “give [even powerful] Egypt as your ransom, Ethiopia [Hebrew: Cush] and Seba [a wealthy unknown location] in exchange for you” (v. 3). “Exchange for you” (instead of you/in your place) is a parallel expression also meaning the payment of ransom. Ransom or exchange, in context, is a metaphorical expression of ways by which the Lord will deliver Judah from exile, back to their own land. God will “pay” whatever it costs to return God’s precious people home. Thus, the theme of redemption returns, but this time with reference to the price that God must pay in order to accomplish a redemptive transaction. Other nations — Egypt, Ethiopia, Seba — will be given by Yahweh (presumably to Cyrus, the Persian conqueror who, by conquering the Babylonians and others, ended the exile of the Hebrews) in order that Israel might be redeemed. The point is not to suggest that the nations sacrificed for Israel’s redemption are in any way expendable, but rather to impress upon the Hebrews the enormous price that God has paid for their redemption. This idea of the enormity of the cost of redemption will be utilized extensively by New Testament writers with reference to Jesus (e.g., Ephesians 1:7; Hebrews 9:12).
Isaiah 43: 4-7 lays out the theme of redemption in more detail. Implicit in the wider context of the Isaiah 43:1-7 passage is that Judah has no “right” to God’s deliverance (and in fact “deserves” the opposite). Nevertheless, God is merciful and gracious, even in the face of human sin. {4} Because you are precious in my sight, and honored, and I love you, I give people in return for you, nations in exchange for your life. In verses 5-7, the new creation is the ingathering of the people. No matter where they have scattered, the Lord will bring them back. Those who had passed through judgment God will now restore. The promise re-establishes the people as messengers. In verses 5-6, the words of reassurance by the prophet takes another turn, emphasizing that the gathering of the people of Israel will not be limited merely to those who were among the exiles in Babylon, but will extend to the remotest locations of the inhabited world. The dispersion of the people of Israel during the political upheavals that culminated in the Babylonian exile resulted in refugees in all directions, some through flight, and others through deportation. The systematic resettlement of conquered peoples in remote locations was common throughout the ancient world, and the Israelites who found themselves in exile in Babylon were only a fraction of those cut off from their homeland. The geographical sweep of verses 5-6, where all the points of the compass are mentioned, casts in spatial terms the comprehensive nature of God's saving activity that has been recalled in temporal terms in the preceding verses. {5} Do not fear [verse 1], for I am with you; [see verse 2 as well] I will bring your offspring from the east, and from the west I will gather you. This may be poetic hyperbole, for this is a wider dispersion than is known for 575-525. Our temptation at this point may be to say that God works in mysterious ways. The popular saying is not one we find in the Bible. It has some truth, but in context, we might more truly say that God works in redemptive ways. God is mysterious and transcendent, of course. More meaningfully in the situation of exile, God is always working for our redemption. God acts in ways that will save us from anything that threatens to destroy us. {6} I will say to the north, "Give them up," and to the south, "Do not withhold; bring my sons from far away and my daughters from the end of the earth—{7} everyone who is called by my name [see verse 1], whom I created [see verse 1] for my glory, whom I formed [see verse 1] and made." [Another parallel to create and form, this one not in verse 1.] The writer concludes the oracle by returning to its opening words — created/formed — forming an inclusio that also sums up the overarching theme of the passage: The God who created Israel initially is in the process of creating Israel again. It is this assertion that allows the author to utter twice another reassurance desperately needed by an anxious and exiled people: “Do not fear” (vv. 1, 5). Israel's redemption encompasses those in every time and every place who have responded in faith to the gracious summons of Israel's God -- "everyone who is called by my name" (v. 7). The last verse of the oracle contains three of the four verbs used in the oracle's opening verse (called, created, formed), summarizing and concluding this great and vast proclamation of redemption. We can think theologically of the love of God. In Jesus Christ, God gave the divine self into our existence, falling heir to the same and curse upon humanity. Bearing them, God takes them a way. Christ presents us as pure and spotless children in the presence of the Father. We can speak of the love of God to us only by pointing to this fact. The work and gift of the Holy Spirit speaks to us. When II Isaiah writes of the love of the Lord, for Israel to fear not, for the Lord with them, we need no other saying.[4]
God is the creative origin of life. God is the creative origin of a people. Such a people have security in life. After all, God has named them. God has a special relationship with them. This secure relationship does not remove the difficulties of life. How can we forget that human life includes real agony? People are passing through "the waters" (v. 2) - through raging and overwhelming rivers. Others are walking through the fire. The human journey has its deep waters, its fast flowing rivers, and its fires. No matter how much we endure in life, we will not endure it alone. The people of God will still need to pass through the trials of a human life. However, God will not allow such trials to overwhelm them. Although we have sold ourselves in slavery to sin, God will buy us back. Although we have disfigured our lives by sin, God sees us as precious and honored. God turns toward us with love. God has formed us in order to bring glory to God. No matter what we have done to separate ourselves from God, no matter what distant country to which we have traveled, God calls us home, to the source and origin of our lives.
I want us to reflect for a few moments about worry and anxiety. How do you deal with them? We live in an understandably anxious time. I could probably say that every year. Let us think about this for a moment.
First, some psychologists draw a distinction between acute anxiety and chronic anxiety. Acute anxiety refers to some immediate threat. If you step out of your front door and come face to face with a grizzly bear, you are feeling acute anxiety. Yet, if you wake up each morning with a sense of free-floating dread, but have little idea where those dark forebodings come from -- nor any idea when or how you will break free from them -- then chances are, you are a victim of chronic anxiety.
Second, what does the word anxiety actually mean? The word "anxious" relates to a Latin word, angere, which literally means, "to choke or strangle." I guess anxiety can have you gasping for breath. Another English word traces its lineage to the same Latin root. The word is angina -- the sharp, piercing pain that precedes a heart attack. Angina arises when arterial plaque chokes off one of the coronary arteries, blocking oxygen from reaching the heart muscle. Anxiety, in other words, can kill you. Another English word that grows out of this Latin root, angere, is "anger." Anxious people, as it so happens, are often angry people. They sense the breath of life choking off from their soul, and so they lash out, flailing wildly in an effort to remove the threat, whatever they imagine it to be. Anxious. Angina. Anger. That sounds like our time. Alarmist headlines are part of our lives. We have come to believe the world is a fundamentally scary place.
Anxiety presents a danger to us. Anxiety may arise out of our desperate search for fulfillment and happiness. We want a fulfilled and happy life, but anxiety leads us away from its source. Instead of turning in a trusting way to God, we anxiously focus upon self and think that if we can just possess the right finite thing, we will be happy. We turn to lust instead of mature love. We turn to getting others to serve us. We might even give up instead of engage in creative action. We anxiously seek recognition by others, and we want it any price. We are uncertain of the future, and so, we become anxious. Anxiety leads us away from the source of our hope and confidence, namely, God. Our lives are a gift for which we can legitimately experience gratitude. Anxiety keeps us away from such confidence and gratitude.[5]
Third, since anxiety identifies the human condition, the Bible reminds us of a basic truth: God is with us. For that reason, words spoken so long ago still speak to us. We are not the first generation of human beings to feel inundated by worry. True, our technology amplifies our natural anxieties. By nature, we are a worrying people. At times, worry keeps us appropriately vigilant so we may fend off tangible threats. Yet, more often than not, worry is simply a burden. Yet, our passage reminds us that we need not fear. We can live without anxiety because:
- God created us
- God formed us
When you build or create something, you know it inside and out. God, as our Creator, knows us better than we know ourselves. Moreover, the text says,
- God redeemed us
- God calls us by name
- God says "you are mine."
Let us pause for just a moment. What would it mean in your life if you could live with that promise?
Some years ago, on a hot summer day in South Florida, a little boy decided to go to the old swimming hole behind his house. In a hurry to dive into the cool water, he ran out the back door, leaving behind shoes, socks and shirt as he went. He flew into the water, not realizing that as he swam toward the middle of the lake, an alligator was swimming toward the shore. The boy’s father, working in the yard, saw the two get closer and closer together. In utter fear, he ran toward the water, yelling to his son as loudly as he could. Hearing his dad’s voice, the little boy became alarmed and made a U-turn to swim to his father. It was too late. Just as he reached his father, the alligator reached him. From the dock, the father grabbed his little boy by the arms just as the alligator snatched his legs. That began an incredible tug-of-war between the two. The alligator was much stronger than the father was, but the father was much too passionate to let go. A farmer happened to drive by, heard screams, raced from his truck, took aim and shot the alligator. Remarkably, after weeks in the hospital, the little boy survived. The attack scarred the legs of the boy. His arms had deep scratches where his father’s fingernails dug into his flesh in an effort to hang on to the son he loved. A newspaper reporter who interviewed the boy after the trauma asked if he would show him his scars. The boy lifted his pant legs. Then, with obvious pride, he said to the reporter, “But look at my arms. I have great scars on my arms, too. I have them because my dad wouldn’t let go.”
Regardless of what might cause you worry or anxiety, God will not let you go.
Our passage warns us that worry is a lack of trust. If we truly believe that God says, "You are mine," then how can we be anxious about the things that cross our pathways? When the center of the power of our lives is outside self, which is the essence of faith, we have faith in something greater than our smallness. Our lack of control is a sign of the presence of God in the world. Our smallness allows us to see and trust the greatness of God that surrounds us. We can then see the face of God in the face of the other.[6]
You will have deep waters through which you will have to pass and fires you will have to put out. Life can confront with enemies that feel too big for us. What might we face today?
- Probably not a terrorist attack, but could be a heart attack;
- Probably not a shark bite, but some biting comments made by others;
- Probably not a home intrusion, but perhaps unexpected intrusions and unwelcome interruptions.
"Be Thou My Vision" is a beloved hymn. I am not sure why, but it has been a hymn the consistently touches my heart, probably since the 1990s. I know part of it is the tune. Part of it is the message of lifting up my vision beyond the passing away of this finite world, which I cherish far too much, and toward the truly lasting and eternal God. In any case, not many are familiar with the following verse, omitted from most hymnals, perhaps because of its militaristic imagery, changed by some for the same reason in the second stanza to “Be Thou my dignity, Thou my delight.”
Be Thou my breastplate, my sword for the fight;
Be Thou my armor, and be Thou my might;
Thou my soul's shelter, Thou my high tower;
Raise Thou me heavenward, O power of my power.
This stanza celebrating divine protection is reminiscent of the ancient Irish poem known as "St. Patrick's Breastplate."
Christ with me,
Christ before me,
Christ behind me,
Christ in me,
Christ beneath me,
Christ above me,
Christ on my right,
Christ on my left,
Christ when I lie down,
Christ when I sit down,
Christ when I arise,
Christ in the heart of every man who thinks of me,
Christ in the mouth of everyone who speaks of me,
Christ in every eye that sees me,
Christ in every ear that hears me.
I understand the hesitancy to use military image in this beloved hymn. Yet, the imagery of the hymn, while military, is defensive in its original context. The "high tower" in the third line recalls the cylindrical stone towers that rise above many of the ancient Irish monasteries. The doors to those towers were located ten feet or more above the ground. They were accessible only by ladders that the monks could quickly pull up in the event of Viking raids. The monks would hastily deposit their liturgical treasures in these stone towers -- particularly illuminated manuscripts like the famous Book of Kells -- as soon as they saw dragon-ship sails on the horizon.
[1] The text is cast in classical prophetic mode, using a style and language that had its roots in the earliest days of Israelite prophecy and poetry. The passage is composed of six synonymously parallel cola (vv. 1b, 2, 3, 4c-d, 5b-c, 6), introduced by a rubric (v. 1a), and interspersed with extra parallel cola (vv. 1c-d, 4a-b, 5a, 7).
[2] Barth Church Dogmatics III.4 [56.3] 650.
[3] Pannenberg, Systematic Theology Volume 1, 399.
[4] Barth, Church Dogmatics I.2 [18.2] 378.
[5] Based upon reflections on Wolfhart Pannenberg, Systematic Theology, Chapter 8, Section 3.
[6] Joan Chittister and Rowan Williams, Uncommon Gratitude: Alleluia for All That Is (Liturgical Press, 2010), 10-11.
This is a good sermon. some thoughts: 1. pass through the waters can also refer to peoples. Waters usually refers to the peoples of the world. This makes sense in this context. This is not a correction just another reflection. 2. The fact that God never lets go of us seems to indicate the preservation of the saints from Calvin? 3.I like the parallel of God redeeming/saving Judah to his work in creating His Church and ensuring its redemption.4. Also found the redemption of giving Egypt etc. to Cyrus as a ransom very interesting. I read one account that said Cyrus was motivated by Isaiah's prophesies, to restore Judah. Did he see the trade? -Lyn Eastman
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