You’ve likely seen those side-by-side pictures in children’s activity books, where the challenge is to find the subtle differences between two nearly identical images. We have something similar in Matthew 7. At the end of the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus says:
Everyone then who hears these words of mine and does them will be like a wise man who built his house on the rock. And the rain fell, and the floods came, and the winds blew and beat on that house, but it did not fall, because it had been founded on the rock. And everyone who hears these words of mine and does not do them will be like a foolish man who built his house on the sand. And the rain fell, and the floods came, and the winds blew and beat against that house, and it fell, and great was the fall of it. (Matthew 7:24-27)
Here are two pictures that are remarkably alike. In both, there is a builder. In both, the builder constructs a house. And in both, a storm arises with rain, floods, and violent winds.
Notice that Jesus does not contrast the builders’ abilities. One is called wise and the other foolish, but both are equally capable of building a house, and both actually do so. Nor does he make any distinction between the houses themselves. This isn’t like the three pigs, each using different materials. For all we know, each house was perfectly sound. And there is no difference in the storms. Both faced rain, floods, and strong winds.
So what is the difference? What determines whether one house stands while the other collapses? It is the foundation. The wise man built on the rock, while the foolish man built on sand.
The imperative is clear: we are to build on the words and will of Christ. But notice the implied lesson as well. Once the house is built, what gives it strength? Why does one endure the storm while the other crumbles? The answer is not the builder. While he determines the foundation during construction, Jesus makes plain that, once the house is standing, its survival depends solely on the foundation.
This is important when we think about perseverance in the faith. Some people picture perseverance as if the believer were hanging from beneath the rock, clinging on by sheer determination, like a rock climber dangling from a cliff. In that illustration, the credit goes to the believer’s grip, not the rock itself. But that is the opposite of Jesus’ teaching.
In his illustration, the wise man is not holding his house together or clinging to the rock to keep it from falling. The house stands only because the rock upholds it. Its survival is due to the strength of the foundation, not the ability of the builder.
This truth is echoed in the 1689 Baptist Confession, chapter 17, paragraph 1:
Though many storms and floods arise and beat against them [that is, the saints], they shall never be able to take them off that foundation and rock which by faith they are fastened upon. Even though, through unbelief and temptations, the sight and sense of the light and love of God may be clouded and obscured for a time, yet God is still the same. They shall be sure to be kept by the power of God unto salvation, where they shall enjoy their purchased possession, for they are engraved upon the palms of his hands, and their names have been written in the book of life from all eternity.
Though many storms arise
“Though many storms and floods arise and beat against them—”
This line demonstrates again how thoroughly the Confession is saturated with Scripture, even when no footnotes are provided. The framers here seem to borrow directly from Jesus’ words in Matthew 7. And the imagery captures a theme that Scripture repeats often: the Christian life is marked by tribulation.
Jesus himself said, “In the world you will have tribulation” (Jn 16:33). In Acts 14:22, Paul and Barnabas reminded the churches that “through many tribulations we must enter the kingdom of God.” Peter likewise warned, “Beloved, do not be surprised at the fiery trial when it comes upon you to test you, as though something strange were happening to you” (1Pe 4:12).
Christ and his apostles were abundantly clear that there would be hard rains, rising floods, and severe storms. As Christians, we cannot avoid them.
Tribulation often comes from without. Both the Presbyterians who drafted the Westminster Confession and the Particular Baptists who published the 1689 Confession knew firsthand what it meant to suffer for their faithfulness. They endured fines, imprisonment, and public shame for their allegiance to God’s word. They knew what it was to build their house upon the rock and yet be battered by storms.
Jesus had already prepared his disciples for this reality. On the night before his crucifixion, he said:
If the world hates you, know that it has hated me before it hated you. If you were of the world, the world would love you as its own; but because you are not of the world, but I chose you out of the world, therefore the world hates you. Remember the word that I said to you: ‘A servant is not greater than his master.’ If they persecuted me, they will also persecute you. (John 15:18-20)
Not every Christian in every time and place will face violent persecution. But persecution and the world’s hatred toward the church should never surprise us. Jesus told us to expect it. The church and the world do not mix, any more than oil mixes with water. And today, we may see more signs of that hostility rising even in our own country.
The Christian also faces trials from within. James 1:14 reminds us, “Each person is tempted when he is lured and enticed by his own desire.” Paul describes this inward struggle vividly in Romans 7, where the Spirit and the flesh war against one another within his own heart.
The storm may be sin. It may be doubt. It may be the painful sense that God is absent. David expressed this anguish in Psalm 10: “Why, O LORD, do you stand far away? Why do you hide yourself in times of trouble?” (Ps 10:1).
Alongside outward persecution and inward temptation, there are also the ordinary afflictions of life in a fallen world, such as sickness, poverty, grief, or relational conflict. Job endured all of these at once. He was afflicted with boils, stripped of his livelihood, bereaved of his children, and scorned by friends who accused him of secret sin. No wonder he declared, “Man is born to trouble as the sparks fly upward” (Job 5:7).
Such afflictions are inevitable, and we know this truth not only from Scripture but from personal experience.
The exodus story helps us see this more clearly. When God delivered Israel from slavery, he did not bring them directly from the Red Sea into the Promised Land. Instead, they wandered forty years in the wilderness. There they battled sins, doubts, hunger, thirst, and many trials. Only after much hardship did they reach their inheritance.
The same is true for us. Though we are “accepted in the Beloved, effectually called and sanctified by his Spirit, and given the precious faith of his elect,” we have not yet entered immortality. Between redemption and glory lies the wilderness of this world. Like Israel, we must make our way through it—sometimes slowly, sometimes painfully—before we reach the Promised Land.
I love how honest both the Confession and the Bible are about this. Neither paints an unrealistic picture of the Christian life. Both are forthright that “in the world you will have tribulation” (Jn 16:33). Jesus often repeated this to his disciples, especially concerning outward persecution. The Confession echoes the same truth. Storms will surely come.
Fastened upon the foundation
The Confession continues, “Though many storms and floods arise and beat against them, they shall never be able to take them off that foundation and rock which by faith they are fastened upon.”
Storms are certain, as Jesus taught in Matthew 7. Yet genuine Christians endure because they are anchored to a firm foundation.
Paul expressed this confidence even amid relentless adversity. In 2 Corinthians 4 he writes, “We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed” (2Co 4:8-9).
How could he speak this way? The answer is found in the foundation. The believer who trusts the Lord and builds on his word rests on the only foundation able to withstand every storm. As Paul reminded the Corinthians elsewhere, “For no one can lay a foundation other than that which is laid, which is Jesus Christ” (1Co 3:11).
The wise builder of Matthew 7 is not commended for superior craftsmanship, but for choosing the proper foundation. That foundation, Christ himself, makes all the difference.
Isaiah foresaw this when God declared, “Behold, I am the one who has laid as a foundation in Zion, a stone, a tested stone, a precious cornerstone, of a sure foundation: ‘Whoever believes will not be in haste’” (Isa 28:16). Peter later echoed this promise, saying, “So the honor is for you who believe” (1Pe 2:7).
The one united to Christ by faith is fixed upon a foundation that cannot be moved. The storms may rage, but they “shall never be able to take them off that foundation and rock.”
Here, we must be careful not to invert the illustration. Some speak as though faith itself secures the believer, as though survival depends on the strength of one’s grip upon the rock. But notice the Confession’s wording: “By faith they are fastened upon [the foundation and rock].”
Faith is the instrument that binds us to Christ, but it is not the foundation itself. Once the house is built, the outcome is no longer in the builder’s hands; its endurance depends entirely on the strength of the foundation beneath it.
This theme runs throughout Scripture:
- “The LORD is my rock and my fortress and my deliverer, my God, my rock, in whom I take refuge, my shield, and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold” (Ps 18:2).
- “Trust in the LORD forever, for the LORD GOD is an everlasting rock” (Isa 26:4).
- “From the end of the earth I call to you when my heart is faint. Lead me to the rock that is higher than I, for you have been my refuge, a strong tower against the enemy” (Ps 61:2-3).
Yes, the Bible calls us to trust the Lord. Paul exhorts believers, “Stand firm in your faith” (2Co 1:24). But faith, though a gift of God, ebbs and flows. At times it is strong; at times it is weak. It never disappears altogether, but its varying strength makes it an unstable source of confidence.
Moreover, faith is only as secure as its object. Faith in sand is still faith, but it will not hold. The foolish man in Matthew 7 surely believed his house would stand. Otherwise, why build it? Yet faith in sand was vain. What matters is not simply that we believe, but that we believe in Christ, the true foundation.
Thus, while faith fastens us to Christ, it is Christ himself who keeps us immovable. Perseverance rests entirely in him. Jesus said, “No one will snatch them out of my hand. My Father, who has given them to me, is greater than all, and no one is able to snatch them out of the Father’s hand” (Jn 10:27-28).
The Father holds us in his hand, the Son in his. And there we are, secure between them. As Paul assures us, “[Nothing in] all creation will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord” (Ro 8:39).
The light of God may be clouded
The Confession continues with a strikingly honest admission: “Even though, through unbelief and temptations, the sight and sense of the light and love of God may be clouded and obscured for a time, yet God is still the same.”
Notice how this is framed. It is not that God’s love diminishes, but that our sense of his love is diminished. Through unbelief, trials, or temptations, clouds gather and obscure our perception of the sun. The sun itself has not vanished. God still loves us, he has not forsaken us, and he remains unchanging. Yet from our perspective, the light can feel hidden.
The Psalms repeatedly bear witness to this reality. In Psalm 13, David cries, “How long, O LORD? Will you forget me forever? How long will you hide your face from me? How long must I take counsel in my soul and have sorrow in my heart all the day?” (Ps 13:1-2). In Psalm 22, he laments, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” (Ps 22:1).
Psalm 42 offers another poignant example:
I say to God, my rock:
“Why have you forgotten me?
Why do I go mourning
because of the oppression of the enemy?”
As with a deadly wound in my bones,
my adversaries taunt me,
while they say to me all the day long,
“Where is your God?” (Ps 42:9-10)
Here, the psalmist addresses God as “my rock,” acknowledging him as refuge and foundation, even while confessing that he feels forgotten and alone. His perception of God’s love is clouded, but his faith endures. He concludes, “Why are you cast down, O my soul, and why are you in turmoil within me? Hope in God; for I shall again praise him, my salvation and my God” (Ps 42:11).
Even in weakness, faith clings to the truth: God has not abandoned his people, though at times his love feels hidden behind the clouds.
When the Confession speaks of unbelief, it does not mean total rejection of Christ. Rather, it refers to the struggles of genuine faith, like the man who cried, “I believe; help my unbelief!” (Mk 9:24). Even the strongest saints experience seasons of doubt and uncertainty.
Temptations here may include any kind of trial, or more specifically, temptations to sin. Both are true. Asaph gives us an example in Psalm 73. He confesses, “I was envious of the arrogant when I saw the prosperity of the wicked” (Ps 73:3). He admits, “My feet had almost stumbled, my steps had nearly slipped” (Ps 73:2). His envy had clouded the light of God. But later he says, “I went into the sanctuary of God; then I discerned their end” (Ps 73:17). Once restored to God’s presence, his perspective cleared: “Truly you set [the wicked] in slippery places; you make them fall to ruin” (Ps 73:18).
When the clouds of unbelief and temptation lift, the light of God’s steadfast love shines forth again.
I think of this every winter. After weeks of gray skies, it is easy to forget the sun is still there. Eventually, it breaks through the clouds.
So it is with God’s love. The Confession reminds us, “Even though … the sight and sense of the light and love of God may be clouded and obscured for a time, yet God is still the same.”
This is the doctrine of God’s immutability. He does not change. As Isaiah 54:10 declares, “‘For the mountains may depart and the hills be removed, but my steadfast love shall not depart from you, and my covenant of peace shall not be removed,’ says the LORD, who has compassion on you.”
Our unbelief and temptations may cloud our assurance. The storms may blow fiercely. Yet the rock remains under the house, and the sun still shines above the clouds. God is still the same.
The power of God
The Confession next assures us, “They shall be sure to be kept by the power of God unto salvation.”
Peter makes this same point at the opening of his first epistle:
Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! According to his great mercy, he has caused us to be born again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, to an inheritance that is imperishable, undefiled, and unfading, kept in heaven for you, who by God’s power are being guarded through faith for a salvation ready to be revealed in the last time. (1 Peter 1:3-5)
Even without the Confession’s footnote, it is clear that the framers had this passage in mind. Peter employs two related military terms, “kept” and “guarded.” Both convey the picture of God himself standing sentry over his people. Jude closes his epistle with the same assurance: “Now to him who is able to keep you from stumbling and to present you blameless before the presence of his glory with great joy” (Jude 24).
The saints will persevere because the Lord himself keeps them. He guards, preserves, and secures them unto salvation.
For this reason, I would gladly title this chapter “The Perseverance and Preservation of the Saints.” The Bible certainly calls us to endure. Jesus said, “The one who endures to the end will be saved” (Mk 13:13). Yet Scripture consistently emphasizes that the believer endures only because God preserves. From beginning to end, salvation is attributed to God’s power, not human strength.
The saints persevere, but only because God preserves.
This truth returns us to Jesus’ illustration in Matthew 7. If perseverance depended on our own grip, we would be left dangling from the rock, clinging for dear life. And we would never last. Just as we cannot save ourselves, neither can we keep ourselves saved.
But the good news is that we are not dangling from the rock; we are resting upon it. And the rock cannot be moved.
Psalm 121 gives this promise: “[The Lord] will not let your foot be moved; he who keeps you will not slumber. Behold, he who keeps Israel will neither slumber nor sleep. The LORD is your keeper” (Ps 121:3-5).
Here is our confidence. God does not sleep. He does not waver. He keeps his people, guards them, and carries them all the way home.
Their purchased possession
The Confession continues, “Where they shall enjoy their purchased possession.”
Notice the word purchased. Our eternal inheritance has been bought at a price. Peter says: “You were ransomed from the futile ways inherited from your forefathers, not with perishable things such as silver or gold, but with the precious blood of Christ, like that of a lamb without blemish or spot” (1Pe 1:18-19).
Paul echoes this in Romans 8:32: “He who did not spare his own Son but gave him up for us all, how will he not also with him graciously give us all things?”
This leads us into the doctrine sometimes called “limited atonement.” Many prefer the term definite atonement. The word limited emphasizes that Christ’s death secured salvation for a specific people rather than for all indiscriminately. The word definite underscores that his death not only made salvation possible but actually accomplished redemption for those given to him by the Father.
Jesus himself said:
I give [my sheep] eternal life, and they will never perish, and no one will snatch them out of my hand. My Father, who has given them to me, is greater than all, and no one is able to snatch them out of the Father’s hand. (John 10:28-29)
The Father gave a people to the Son. Christ shed his blood for them. And the result is definite: they will never perish.
John Owen expressed it well in The Death of Death in the Death of Christ:
Christ did not die for an uncertain end. He did not shed his blood at random, or pay a price of redemption without knowing what he bought. For to affirm that the Son of God should lay down the infinite ransom of his life for those whom he never intended to save, is to make his death an ineffectual purchase, and his blood of no certain value.
To put it positively, Christ’s death achieved a certain and effectual redemption. His purchase cannot fail.
Think of it in practical terms. Most of us would not hesitate to spend an hour on the phone with customer service to secure a discount we were promised. If we are so insistent about receiving what we paid for with money, how much more certain is it that Christ will receive all that he purchased with his blood?
This emphasis continues in the second paragraph of the Confession:
This perseverance of the saints does not depend upon their own free will but upon the immutability of the decree of election, which flows from the free and unchangeable love of God the Father. It also rests upon the efficacy of the merit and intercession of Jesus Christ and union with him, the oath of God, the abiding of his Spirit, and the seed of God within them. It also depends upon the nature of the covenant of grace, from all which arises the certainty and infallibility of their perseverance.
The keyword here is efficacy. Christ’s work is effective. His blood actually redeems. His death actually purchased. His resurrection actually secures eternal life. If he has paid our debt, then justice itself demands our freedom. God cannot require a double payment. Either Christ bore the penalty, or he did not. If he did, then our salvation is secure forever.
As Paul writes: “Who shall bring any charge against God’s elect? It is God who justifies. Who is to condemn? Christ Jesus is the one who died” (Ro 8:33–34). And again: “There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus” (Ro 8:1).
The Confession summarizes, “[The saints] are engraved upon the palms of his hands, and their names have been written in the book of life from all eternity.”
This leads naturally into the Confession’s closing paragraph:
They may fall into grievous sins and continue in them for a time, through the temptation of Satan and of the world, the power of the corruption remaining in them, and the neglect of the means of their preservation. In doing so, they incur God’s displeasure, grieve the Holy Spirit, bring damage to their graces and comforts, cause harm to others, and bring temporal judgments upon themselves. Yet they shall renew their repentance and be preserved through faith in Christ Jesus to the end.
Yes, the saints stumble. They may even fall into grievous sin. Yet the foundation does not move. The purchase price has been paid. Christ’s blood has secured their inheritance, and God’s power will preserve them until they enjoy it.
As Paul wrote with confidence, “I am sure of this, that he who began a good work in you will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ” (Php 1:6).