My Sins They are Many, Your Mercy is More
My Sins They are Many, Your Mercy is More
When you think you've taken the step too far
You’ve probably heard the gospel-drenched, God-glorifying, sinner-welcoming worship song by Matt Boswell and Matt Papa, “His Mercy is More.”
The refrain has gripped my heart this week: Our sins they are many, his mercies are more.
Since we don’t merely approach the throne of grace on Sundays as individuals but as a community—as a family— it’s right in the context of gathered worship to sing collectively in the third person (we).
However, the corporate nature of covenant renewal does not negate the personal and individual. I can’t hide in the crowd. Especially when it comes to my many sins.
This is why I found myself singing, “MY sins they are many, YOUR mercies are more.”
This is overwhelmingly hopeful. But at the same time, it’s profoundly, almost painfully challenging to believe.
Note the first stanza:
What love could remember no wrongs we have done
Omniscient, all knowing, He counts not their sum
Thrown into a sea without bottom or shore
Our sins they are many, His mercy is more.
Really?
If you’re like me, there are certain sins that weigh on you more than others.
Not that some are less treasonous. But there are sins we detest in a more palpable way, feeling the guilt more heavily and shame more acutely. Like Adam and Eve, the thought of God’s presence drives us into the woods for cover.
But what if the Matts are right?
What love could remember no wrongs we have done
Omniscient, all knowing, He counts not their sum
Thrown into a sea without bottom or shore
Our sins they are many, His mercy is more.
Why if the Father has more affection for me that I have guilt or shame over my sin?
What if the blood of Jesus has covered not merely most of my sin, but every sin, past, present, and future?
What if he was crucified because he wanted me not to be crushed by my remaining sin but liberated?
Indeed, as Isaiah says, “He was crushed for my iniquity.” Crushed. Crucified. Nailed unto suffering the full wrath of the law.
For my iniquity. My iniquity. My iniquity.
Not just the small stuff. But for the grossest, most explicit, vilest sins.
Do you feel the tension between hope and pain. Grief and gladness? We want to believe it. But there is that voice inside telling us we’ve gone a step too far.
If you have blown it. If you’re feeling the weight. If shame is withering your soul.
Don’t believe the lie.
The cross invites you to come—naked, thirsty, hungry, and helpless, to find a covering that will never fade. To come, eat and drink of the kindness of God to your fill. To look full upon the risen, nail-scared Jesus and weep with thanksgiving and praise.
And then follow him with a joy-empowered devotion you never knew was possible.
But it is possible. Because, though our sins they are many, his mercy is more.
One of the great moments of my life was when I first understood the meaning of the first two verses of Isaiah 40.
Comfort, yes Comfort my people, says the Lord. Speak peaceably to Jerusalem, Tell her(tell yourself) that her struggling is done. For the Grace given to her is Double all of her sins.(paraphrased)
Double. Double. Or as Paul would have it, 'Where I had lots of sin, God had WAY more Grace'
This is the message that gets us out of bed in the morning. It is the reason life is worth living.
Excellent!! There are sins that weigh heavier on me...I mean, how could God forgive me for that. But, I remember a certain tax collector crying out for mercy and I want that to always be me.