Come Lord Jesus, Come

It is an often sang grouping of words.  They can easily be hollowly uttered as simply to take part in the same activity as everyone in the immediate vicinity.  I find myself singing the same vacant words as everyone else, maybe even on a good day I actually think about these words enough to realize that I, my depraved self, am mouthing words of severe consequence, and that I truly never anticipate an actual occurrence.  For these dire consequences I fail to acknowledge are encompassing the ability to make my comfort level decrease, and could indeed begin to break what I feel is my superiority above my fellow man: my greater spirituality.  But yet I, with little conviction at all, sing “Come Lord Jesus, Come.” 

Even if I convinced myself that such words deserved meditation and I contemplate the arrival of this Jesus I so openly call upon, would I be apt to this advent?  Would I greet my savior with open arms and enjoy His very presence; would I come face to face with my creator and have any pleasant feelings at all?  Would there be shame?  Would I understand my uncleanliness?  Would I come to see this gentle God of love who comforts me in His arms, or would my life be so repulsive that the sight of me would cause the anger of Christ to burn?  Yes I know the doctrine of Atonement, reconciliation and the like; but does my seemingly constant failure cause my sanctification to be called into question?  All of it begs the question: “What would the divine’s reaction be to me if amidst this mundane calling of mine, He showed up?”  And still I sing, “Come Lord Jesus, Come.”  

One could easily ponder this indeed painful question for centuries, but instead I find myself longing to find in the scriptures how many reacted to the actual appearance of the divine.  Isaiah chapter six tells the story of a young prophet encountering God, and amidst this vast glory the only words he can mutter are “Woe is me, for I am ruined!  Because I am a man of unclean lips, and I live among a people of unclean lips; for my eyes have seen the King, the Lord of Hosts.”  Woe is me, for I am ruined; what a painful statement to make in the presence of the Father, and yet we picture our God gentle, loving and accepting.  Not that He is not described with such adjectives, but this is not Isaiah’s first reaction.  He is broken in the revelation of his unclean lips as well as the sins of his people.  Not only is he shamed for his sin, he verifies his depravity by making note of the failures that surround him.  When I call to God, I wonder if I have ever sought brokenness for the sins of myself and my people.  But still I sing “Come Lord Jesus, Come.”

The book of Acts chapter nine tells of the Apostle Paul’s encounter with Christ.  As then Saul traveled to carry out orders to destroy those who follow Christ, he met this same Christ and was blinded.  As the heavy question of Christ rang out “Why do you persecute me?” Saul was given new orders, to travel into the city and wait for words of instruction.  This unexpected encounter would render a man blind and cause severe transformation in a life that would come to be a vessel for the transcription of great portions of the scripture we look to today.  When I view this appearance, I do not see a God who comforted, a God who spoke softly, but instead I am stricken with the image of a God who struck a man down, rendered him blind, and demanded obedience.  I do not view such a text and immediately jump to the thought that the divine would perform the same action unto me which is described here, but I do note that this encounter was one that demonstrated the severity of the chastisement of God.  I see this Christ who displays such power over physical beings, and commands organs to cease being productive; this was the Christ that appeared to Saul and convicted the murderous heart of Christian slayer to become one of the most utilized persons in the New Testament.  If my hollow words of longing for God to appear were responded to, would he have such harsh questioning for this man, would he strike me down in shame?  Often I don’t even ponder the effects of these words I sing, but I continue singing nonetheless, “Come Lord Jesus, Come.”  

I know I serve a God who demonstrated great mercy in my justification.  Likewise I know that such action speaks volumes to the love God has for me despite my former depravity.  But I cannot help but wonder, what would my reaction be if I found myself in the presence of God as clear as it was for the aforementioned?  I cannot take lightly these words, and so seeking righteousness I sing, “Come Lord Jesus, Come.”