Come Ye Sinners

I want to share with you some thoughts on one of my favorite hymns. But first, take a few minutes to listen to this magnificent song:

Come, ye sinners, poor and needy Weak and wounded, sick and sore Jesus ready, stands to save you Full of pity, love and power

[Refrain]

I will arise and go to Jesus He will embrace me in His arms In the arms of my dear Savior Oh, there are ten thousand charms

Come, ye thirsty, come and welcome God's free bounty glorify True belief and true repentance Every grace that brings you nigh

[Refrain]

Let not conscience make you linger,

nor of fitness fondly dream;

all the fitness he requireth

is to feel your need of him.

[Refrain]

Come, ye weary, heavy-laden Lost and ruined by the fall If you tarry 'til you're better You will never come at all

[Refrain]

"Come, ye sinners, poor and needy, Weak and wounded, sick and sore. Jesus ready, stands to save you, Full of pity, love and power." When we get to a place where we realize deep in our hearts that we are in this state, one of the hardest things we can do is to believe the promise in this first verse. Can it rally be the case that Jesus stands ready to save me - me! - just as I am? And that He does so without judgement? Without anger? Without criticism? But rather that He does so "full of pity"? How can the holy King of kings look at me without anger? I'm angry at myself! I'm judging myself!

But no, the hymnist tells us, Jesus does not look at us that way. He sees our foolishness, arrogance, and self-centeredness that led us to our broken estate and pities us as we would pity a small child who, refusing to obey his father, says "All by myself!" and falls down, hits is little head, and cries for his daddy.

This is the Lord to whom the hymn bids us run.

"Come, ye thirsty, come and welcome, God's free bounty glorify. True belief and true repentance, Every grace that brings you nigh." How shall I come? What do I have to bring? All I have to bring is my need. We are spiritually dry, parched in our souls. We're shriveled up inside and have nothing to bring. The beautiful thing about the Gospel is that this is precisely how Jesus wants us to come. "Come unto Me, all ye who labor and are heavy laden," He says, "and I will give you rest." When we come knowing that we are, as Revelation says, "wretched, miserable, poor, blind, and naked," we find that He already has every good and perfect gift prepared for us!

"Let not conscience make you linger, nor of fitness fondly dream; all the fitness he requireth is to feel your need of him." Why does it phrase it this way? "Let not conscience make you linger"? Why would my conscience keep me back? It's simple: because it seems too good to be true that we might get any good thing for free; let alone the very best gift anyone can receive! We "fondly dream" of coming with something to offer, some good works or personal achievements that can be given as proof that we deserve His grace. But here's the thing: if we come trying to earn His grace, that itself proves that we aren't ready for it. The only people who can have this most precious gift are those who freely admit that they could never deserve it. The only fitness for His mercy and grace is to know - no, not know, but feel - our desperate need of Him!

"Come, ye weary, heavy-laden, Lost and ruined by the fall. If you tarry 'til you're better You will never come at all." This is it. Are you weary? Are you weighed down by your griefs, your filthiness, your incompetence, your foolishness, your diseased soul? Do you feel like you're a hopeless case? Have you just about gotten to the place where you can't go on? Are you lost? Ruined by the fall? Ah, then you're ready. You cannot put it off, hoping that tomorrow or the next day you'll be ready. You already feel your frailty. You know, don't you, that there is no guarantee of a tomorrow? So come. Come ye weary, come! Come ye thirsty, come! Come ye sinner, come! Today is the day of salvation. All you must do is accept it.