COME THOU FOUNT OF EVERY BLESSING

I first heard “Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing” at a high school retreat. It was peak Tumblr hipster era. We were all wearing beanies and 3-D glasses with the lenses punched out, taking our pictures with film cameras, and listening to vinyls. I was a freshman in high school, drawing mustaches on my index fingers because I was too young to get them permanently tattooed (a blessing, in retrospect). Mumford and Sons was at the peak of their popularity, so we played a folksy, indie-esque version of the hymn. There were about 90 high schoolers crammed into a building we called the haybarn, despite it not being a barn and having no hay, singing a song written in the 1750s that had somehow remained relevant to the present day. I have carried the lyrics in my heart ever since.

I think part of what touched my heart in the lyrics of “Come Thou Fount” at that retreat was how it tells the parable about the Kingdom of God, in which Christ tells a story of a shepherd in charge of a flock of 100 sheep. When one member of his flock strays and goes missing, the shepherd leaves the 99 to bring the lost sheep back into the fold. Christ says that the shepherd rejoices over the one returned sheep more than the 99 who remained. The hymn and the parable share a central metaphor – that we are never too far for Jesus to seek us out, and that Jesus never runs out of grace for our wandering hearts.

My first encounter with “Come Thou Fount” was a sort of homecoming. I had been in a season of spiritual wandering leading up to that retreat. At 15, I had stopped feeling like I was “in” at church. I no longer felt like I could call myself one of Christ’s sheep. Jesus compared the Kingdom of God to a shepherd who left 99 sheep to find one who was lost. I don’t know who I would identify with in that parable  - maybe a faraway house cat – but the sense of alienation was deep. My parents were recently divorced, and I was trying to figure out where God fit into my life. The parts of my life that I counted on to be the most consistent were changing quickly and drastically, and I felt unmoored. I was looking for stability wherever I could find it. I threw myself into my school, my extracurriculars, and my books - and inched away from my faith. I felt like I had wandered too far for God to find me, but I think I knew in the deepest part of my soul that I needed to wander back. For the first time, I heard the prayer I didn’t realize I needed: “bind my wandering heart to thee.”

Fast forward a few years, and I’m away at college. I had been flat rejected from my dream school, the place I had wanted to attend since I was 10. I ended up at my third choice school. I had missed the dorm deadline and instead lived off campus with some summer camp friends. I spent the first week of classes sleeping on an air mattress while waiting for my bed to arrive. I knew next to nothing about my new campus. The friends I had made at orientation were nowhere to be found now that classes had started. I was hopeful that God was with me on this journey, but it felt like God and I were slightly off-step. In an effort to help me socialize and get off of my air mattress, my summer camp friends invited me to the Episcopal Campus Ministry. We went to a Thursday night compline service, where we prayed and sang and shared a homemade meal brought by members of a local Episcopal church. That night, of all the songs we could have sung together, we sang that same indie-folk “Come Thou Fount” cover. I felt for the first time that I was at home. I felt that maybe, just maybe, I was wandering a little closer to God that night.

I stayed involved with that campus ministry throughout my time in college. I was on the mission board, on the worship team, and occasionally led those Thursday night compline services. I was connected with a local mission where I volunteered with kids in their after school program. I even joined a Christian sorority and connected with sisters from a variety of denominations, who all loved Jesus and wanted to grow in faith together. God and I were back on track, and my wandering heart was certainly bound to Jesus.

I think a lot about the images in “Come Thou Fount.” There’s something so beautiful about Jesus seeking me as I was a stranger. We hear a lot about the the lost sheep, and how Jesus leaves the ninety-nine sheep to rescue and return it to the fold. There is great value in knowing that Jesus seeks us out when we wander. Sometimes we wander because of our choices, or because we don’t know the way. But sometimes we wander because we don’t feel like we deserve the safety of the gate. No matter our reasons, Jesus seeks us all the same. There are times in all of our lives when we feel like we’ve wandered too far, for too long, that there is no way that Jesus would pursue us this far from the fold. I have certainly felt like I was on my own to get back to the gate, and I imagine I am not alone.

As I’ve wandered in and around my faith, one thing has remained true - I am prone to wander, Lord, I feel it; prone to leave the God I love. What a timeless message. Jesus’s friends were prone to wander too, but that didn’t stop Jesus from chasing after them, affirming their belovedness, and calling them to great things. Take Peter, for example. Certainly in the moment he denied Jesus, Peter felt shame so strong he “wept bitterly” and perhaps felt unworthy of the love Jesus had heaped on him for the last three years. We know the end of the story, and we know that Peter in his denial was not so far from the fold that Jesus wouldn’t find him. We know that Jesus built his church on Peter, the Rock, and used Peter to spread his message of love and redemption. If God can use Peter, not to mention all of the other perfectly imperfect humans in the Bible, who’s to say God won’t continue to pursue my wandering heart?

My prayer to bind my wandering heart to God is a daily one, as I imagine it is for many others. Whether sheep or stranger, Jesus continues to seek us, continues to bring us back into the fold. Jesus seeks us in weekend retreats, in campus apartments, in Thursday night dinners, in the wilderness of our lives, and welcomes us back to the fold over and over again, no matter how worthy we may or may not feel. Jesus doesn’t give up on us because we’ve wandered too far this time, or last time was the last time. Jesus, ever present and ever faithful, knows that our hearts are prone to wander - and loves us anyway. We are beloved in the wilderness and in the fold. We have never wandered too far or too long for Jesus to find us.

I do not presume to have this faith thing figured out in this life. I know that no matter how close I am to God today, I am prone to wander tomorrow. Each morning I pray to bind my wandering heart to God, and each evening I give thanks to the tether of grace that keeps me connected to Jesus. Prone to wander, Lord I feel it. Prone to leave the God I love. Here’s my heart, Lord, take and seal it. Seal it for thy courts above.