One of the oldest charges against Calvinism is that it withholds the preaching of the gospel. “If God has already chosen who will be saved,” critics ask, “then why preach to anyone? Why invite sinners to the great and glorious gospel feast if their response is already decided?”

 

This accusation has warred against Christians who have championed God’s free and sovereign grace for centuries. But what’s rarely understood is that this charge isn’t aimed at true, historic Calvinism, but a distortion. The cold, lifeless system that withholds the gospel is not Calvinism at all, but Hyper Calvinism — a tragic perversion that has appeared in various forms throughout church history.

 

 

Calvinism’s Counterfeit

Hyper Calvinism takes certain truths, such as God’s sovereignty in election and reprobation, and stretches them beyond the boundaries of Scripture. It argues that since only God alone can regenerate and save sinners, there’s no need to offer Christ to all men nor to urge them to repent and believe in the Lord Jesus, believing that such appeals deny grace.

 

But this is not what our Lord, the apostles, Augustine, Gottschalk, Thomas Aquinas, Gregory of Rimini, John Wycliffe, the Reformers, the Puritans, the Particular Baptists, the Calvinistic Methodists, the Great Awakening evangelists, nor that which orthodox Calvinists of the past two centuries have taught. True biblical and historic Calvinism has always held that God’s sovereignty never cancels the free offer of the gospel. In fact, it is because God is sovereign that we Calvinists preach with boldness and hope! The Lord has chosen His people, yes, but He has also ordained the preaching of the gospel as the very means by which they will be gathered in (Rom. 10:14). And in preaching the gospel to all, we also offer Christ freely to all.

 

Hyper Calvinism eventually collapses into two dead ends: legalism on one side, or antinomianism on the other. Some become Pharisees, clinging to rules without mercy and certain tertiary doctrine dogmas; others become libertines, casting off holiness altogether. Both errors miss the heart of God’s grace. And Joseph Hart, writer of the old hymn, "Come, Ye Sinners, Poor and Needy," knew both errors firsthand.

 

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Joseph Hart: From Pharisee, to Prodigal, to Preacher of God's Free and Sovereign Grace in Jesus Christ

Joseph Hart (1712–1768) was an English Calvinistic minister and hymn-writer born in London. He was raised in a family with strong moral and religious influences, where he was taught to be zealous, disciplined, and essentially self-righteous. He was man of "Pharisaical zeal," as later generations would describe him, and did all he could to ultimately earn salvation through strict morality and religious duty.

 

But when that failed to bring him peace, he swung the other way.

 

Disillusioned and bitter, Hart embraced antinomianism — the belief that since salvation is by grace, repentance, obedience, and holiness are (to various degrees) unnecessary. It was during this time that he wrote a work titled "The Unreasonableness of Religion," aimed at the teaching of John Wesley, who called men and women to pursue biblical holiness.

 

Hart’s main thesis of the work was simple:

Christians should not be concerned with good works, but rather only believing in God.

 

Because of this antinomian, Hyper–Calvinistic theology, Hart lived carelessly — even proudly in sin — while still claiming to know Christ. He would later recall that season as one of deep darkness, when he mistook liberty for license.

 

Yet God was not done with him.

 

Over time, the Spirit began to awaken Hart’s conscience. As he wrestled with the true biblical teaching of law and gospel, his soul grew uneasy. He even began to question whether he had ever been converted at all. Many nights he lay awake under deep conviction, haunted by guilt and longing for mercy. His prayers grew desperate: he wanted not just a religion, but a Savior.

 

At last, under the preaching of George Whitefield, the famous Calvinistic evangelist of the First Great Awakening, the Lord opened Hart’s eyes. The proud Pharisee and the self–indulgent libertine both died that day, and a new man arose — humbled, forgiven, and resting entirely on the finished work of Christ. From then on, Hart preached the biblical gospel he had once misunderstood — full, free, and overflowing with sovereign grace.

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Though his public ministry lasted only eight years, his influence was nevertheless immense. When he died in 1768, an estimated 20,000 people attended his funeral — a striking testimony to how deeply his gospel ministry had touched London in such a short time. His tombstone still bears witness to the grace that changed him:

 

Joseph Hart was by the free and sovereign grace and Spirit of God raised up from the depths of sin, and delivered from the bonds of mere profession and self-righteousness, and led to rest entirely for salvation in the finished atonement and perfect obedience of Christ.

 

 

The Hymn That Changed It All

When Joseph Hart put pen to paper and wrote "Come, Ye Sinners, Poor and Needy," something remarkable happened. A man once torn between legalism and license gave voice to the pure, liberating melody of God’s free and sovereign grace in Jesus Christ. What began as a personal confession soon became one of the most beloved invitations in all of Christian hymnody.

 

This was not a cold creed in verse — it was the gospel set to music.

 

In just five short stanzas, Hart managed to capture the tension every sinner feels and the hope every believer clings to. Here, the broken are called, the thirsty are welcomed, and the weary are warned not to delay. Here, grace is no abstract idea, but that which flows from a living and loving Savior, “full of pity, love, and power.”

 

More than two centuries later, the words still ring out with the same power: a summons to come, a promise to save, and a Savior who stands ready.

 

It is no exaggeration to say that "Come, Ye Sinners" changed everything for Hart, for those who first sang it, and for every soul who has since heard its echo and come running to Christ. It was, and remains, the hymn that changed it all.

 

Come, ye sinners, poor and needy, 
weak and wounded, sick and sore; 
Jesus ready stands to save you, 
full of pity, love, and pow'r.

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

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Let not conscience make you linger, 
nor of fitness fondly dream; 
all the fitness He requireth 
is to feel your need of Him.

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Come, ye weary, heavy laden, 
lost and ruined by the fall; 
if you tarry till you're better, 
you will never come at all. 

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Lo! th'incarnate God, ascended, 
pleads the merit of His blood; 
venture on Him, venture wholly; 
let no other trust intrude.

 

 

The Call to Come

The hymn opens not with theology to debate, but with a voice that pleads:

 

Come, ye sinners, poor and needy,

weak and wounded, sick and sore;

Jesus ready stands to save you,

full of pity, love, and pow’r.

 

Here, the gospel speaks in its own native tongue.

There is no reserve, no calculation, and no hint of exclusivity.

Hart’s call is as open as the arms of Christ Himself.

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He does not say, "Come, ye elect," or "Come, ye improved." He says, “Come, ye sinners.”

 

That single word levels the ground. It silences every boast and opens the door wide. The invitation is not to the strong, the spiritual, or the self-assured, but to the guilty and undone. That is precisely the language of the Savior who said, "I came not to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance" (Luke 5:32).

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In these lines we hear the true music of Calvinism — not cold, selective reasoning, but the warm, living truth that Christ is both willing and able. The same sovereign God who chose His people also commands His gospel to be preached to all men. Calvinism does not restrict the invitation — it guarantees its success.

 

And what a Savior Hart presents!

 

Jesus does not stand aloof or indifferent, waiting for sinners to prove themselves worthy. He stands ready — full of pity for the lost, full of love for the weary, full of power to save to the uttermost. Every word of the verse breathes gospel urgency. It is as if Hart is saying: "Do not look within for strength. Do not linger in doubt. Christ is enough — and He stands ready now!"

 

This is the heartbeat of Calvinistic evangelism — a call so broad that no sinner is excluded, yet so deep that no sinner who comes will ever be turned away: "whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life." (John 3:16)

 

So when the hymn begins, "Come, ye sinners, poor and needy," it is not a suggestion. It is a summons from heaven itself — an echo of the living Christ, still calling through His gospel, "Come unto Me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest." (Matt. 11:28)

 

 

A Welcome Without Price

The second stanza continues the open invitation:

 

Come, ye thirsty, come, and welcome,

God’s free bounty glorify;

true belief and true repentance,

every grace that brings you nigh.

 

If the first stanza calls sinners to come, this one reassures them that they will be assuredly accepted when they do. Hart points our eyes away from ourselves and toward the kindness of God. Salvation is not a bargain struck between man and heaven — it is "the free gift of God" (Rom. 6:23). The thirsty are not told to earn a drink, but simply to come and receive, echoing our Lord’s own cry: "If any man thirst, let him come unto Me, and drink" (John 7:37).

 

What’s especially comforting is the way Hart describes the very things we often struggle with most: faith and repentance. Many imagine these as hurdles they must clear before approaching Christ, but Hart reminds us that they, too, are gifts — "every grace that brings you nigh." The God who calls sinners to come also supplies all that is necessary to draw near (Eph. 2:8–10; Acts 5:31). Because salvation is all of grace from beginning to end, Christians should not fear their small faith or imperfect repentance — for the promise of God is to grow His sheep in faith and holiness (Rom. 8:28-30; 2 Pet. 3:18) and always lead them to an acceptable repentance in His eyes (Hos. 11:4; Rom. 2:4)

 

This is the beauty and sweetness of true Calvinism: a salvation that begins with grace, continues by grace, and is completed by grace (Phil. 1:6). No sinner stands at the door of mercy waiting to be found worthy. The welcome has already been thrown open, and the One who calls is the One who enables. It is not a gospel that asks the sinner to contribute, but a gospel that invites the sinner to receive.

 

In these lines, Hart places all the emphasis where it belongs — in the open arms of God. It is a welcome without price, because Christ has paid it all.

 

 

No Fitness Required

Next Hart shatters the notion that a sinner must first prepare himself:

 

Let not conscience make you linger,

nor of fitness fondly dream;

all the fitness He requireth

is to feel your need of Him.

 

How many souls linger outside the gate of mercy because they imagine they must first make themselves acceptable? It is Satan and a troubled conscience that whispers, "Not yet — try harder, clean yourself up, then God will receive you." But the gospel speaks a better word. Scripture says plainly, "Him that cometh to Me I will in no wise cast out" (John 6:37). Christ does not ask the sinner to improve before coming; He asks the sinner to come because he cannot.

 

Hart dismantles the idea that sinners must first gather up some spiritual worthiness before approaching Christ. "Fitness" is not something we bring — it is something Christ supplies. The only qualification He asks for is need. The only prerequisite is poverty of spirit (Matt. 5:3). The gospel does not demand strength, it calls the helpless: "They that be whole need not a physician, but they that are sick" (Matt. 9:12).

 

When Hart says, "Let not conscience make you linger," he gently warns against the subtle unbelief that waits for better feelings, clearer emotions, or stronger resolve. If we tarry until we feel worthy, we will never come at all. Christ’s invitation is not "Return when you are ready," but "Come now, for I am ready."

 

In these lines, Hart gives voice to the very heart of grace:

Christ receives sinners as sinners — not as future saints, not as "half–reformed projects," but as empty–handed, conscience–burdened, heart–weary men and women who need Him.

 

And that is all the fitness He requires.

 

If Calvinism waited for signs of "spiritual fitness" before offering Christ, it could never sing these words. But the God whom Calvinists preach doesn’t wait — He calls. He doesn’t demand proof of grace, but sovereignly gives the grace that produces proof. The only qualification is need. The only plea is emptiness.

 

"All the fitness He requireth is to feel your need of Him."

 

 

Don’t Wait — Come Now

The hymn then turns from gentle invitation to heartfelt warning:

 

Come, ye weary, heavy laden,

lost and ruined by the fall;

if you tarry till you’re better,

you will never come at all.

 

These lines carry the tenderness of a pastor and the urgency of a prophet. Hart knew how easily the human heart drifts toward delay — not open rebellion, but quiet postponement. We imagine a future moment when we will feel more serious, more prepared, more worthy. But Scripture is clear: "Behold, now is the accepted time; behold, now is the day of salvation" (2 Cor. 6:2, emphasis mine).

 

The danger is not that Christ will turn us away, but that we will keep ourselves away by waiting for a condition that never comes. A sinner does not become "better" apart from Christ; to attempt this is like trying to wash before stepping into the fountain. The longer we delay, the harder our hearts become (Heb. 3:15).

 

Notice Hart’s realism: "lost and ruined by the fall." He reminds us that our ruin is not an obstacle to coming — it is the very reason we must come. The burden is not a barrier, but the doorway to God's grace.

 

Hart’s plea is simple:

Do not wait for a better moment.

Do not wait for better feelings.

Do not wait for a better you.

Christ is the One who makes sinners new.

 

Come to Him today, while the door of mercy stands open and the Savior Himself invites you by name.

 

 

A Mighty Savior

Hart then brings the hymn’s final stanza to its highest point — by turning ourselves completely away from ourselves and fixing them on Christ above.

 

Lo! th’incarnate God, ascended,

pleads the merit of His blood;

venture on Him, venture wholly,

let no other trust intrude.

 

Here the invitation becomes adoration. Hart lifts the sinner’s gaze from earth to heaven, to the risen Christ who "ever liveth to make intercession" for His people (Heb. 7:25). We are not called to trust a distant figure or a fading memory, but a living Savior — God incarnate, now ascended, whose very presence before the Father is the believer’s sure plea.

 

Notice the strength in Hart’s language: "pleads the merit of His blood." Christ does not present our works, our feelings, or our resolve. He presents His own atonement — the once–for–all sacrifice that fully satisfies divine justice (Heb. 9:12). Our acceptance with God rests not on anything in us, but entirely on what Christ accomplished.

 

Then comes the exhortation: "venture on Him, venture wholly." It is a call to wholehearted trust — not a cautious step, but a decisive surrender. Hart invites the sinner to put every hope, every fear, and every need upon Christ alone. This mirrors Scripture’s own insistence that salvation is found in “no other Name under heaven” (Acts 4:12).

 

The final line seals the point: "let no other trust intrude." No mixture of self–effort, no confidence in personal righteousness, no reliance on inward feelings can stand beside Christ. To add anything to Him is to diminish Him. Though true faith will certainly produce good works and cause its adherents to walk in and strive after holiness (Matt. 11:12; Eph. 2:10; Heb. 12:14), it is nevertheless singular — thus resting entirely on the Savior who saves to the uttermost.

 

In this closing stanza, Hart does more than invite — he exalts. He draws us to a Christ who is not only willing to save, but is mighty, sufficient, and gloriously able. The One who calls sinners is the same One who keeps them, intercedes for them, and brings them safely home (John 10:28; Rom. 8:34; 1 Pet. 1:5).

 

It is this Christ — ascended, pleading, and powerful — who stands at the center of the gospel Hart loved. And it is this Christ who still calls sinners today.

 

 

The Thunder of Grace

Joseph Hart’s hymn and his life tell the same story. The caricature that Calvinism withholds the gospel belongs to Hyper Calvinism — not to the true, historic, biblical Calvinism. True Calvinism rings with invitation. It calls the weary to come, the guilty to repent, and the broken to believe. It cries with the voice of the apostles: “be ye reconciled to God!” (2 Cor. 5:20), knowing that behind every call stands a sovereign, saving God.

 

Yes, God sovereignly chooses whom He will save in mercy and whom He will pass over in judgment (Rom. 9:15–18). Scripture never apologizes for this. But this grand truth has never been a reason to hesitate, to peer into men’s souls, or to wait for signs of election before we preach to them. We have no access to the Lamb’s Book of Life. As the famous Prince of Preachers, Charles Spurgeon, famously said, “If God had painted a yellow stripe down the backs of the elect, we would lift every shirt to find it — but since He has not, we preach the gospel to every creature.”

 

And that is precisely what Christ commands: “Go ye into all the world, and preach the gospel to every creature” (Mark 16:15).

 

Not to a filtered few.

Not to those who seem promising.

Not to those who look spiritually inclined.

But to all.

 

Our message is not the thin, man–centered message of modern Evangelicalism that declares: “God loves you and has a wonderful plan for your life.” No, Scripture calls us to proclaim something far greater, far weightier, and far more glorious:

 

• There is a holy and perfect God who created the world (Gen. 1:1).

• Man, God’s greatest creation, has willfully rebelled and sinned against Him (Rom. 3:23).

• And yet, in sovereign mercy, God has made a way for sinners to be reconciled to Him (Rom. 5:8–11).

 

That way is Christ — His incarnation, His sinless life, His substitutionary death, His victorious resurrection, His ascension, and His present reign at the Father’s right hand (1 Cor. 15:3–4; Acts 2:33; Heb. 1:3). He has accomplished a full salvation for His people, declaring in victory, “It is finished!” (John 19:30)

 

And so, we preach — not ourselves, not moralism, not sentimental assurance — but Christ and Him crucified (1 Cor. 2:2). We plead with sinners, as Scripture commands, “Repent ye therefore, and be converted, that your sins may be blotted out” (Acts 3:19). We call all men everywhere to repent (Acts 17:30) and to believe in the Lord Jesus Christ, that they may be saved (Acts 16:31).

 

This is the beating heart of Calvinistic evangelism:

the sovereign God

the sufficient Christ

a free gospel

a universal call

a guaranteed harvest.

 

The Arminian caricature whispers that Calvinism silences the gospel. But Hart (echoing Scripture) makes the truth thunder:

 

Come, ye sinners, poor and needy…

Jesus ready stands to save you.

 

This is the song of sovereign grace.

This is the cry of the gospel.

This is the invitation that has echoed for centuries —

and still calls sinners home today.

Chris Curry is the director and founder of the Mountain State Directory of Sovereign Grace Congregations.

He is a husband, father, and has worked as an adult critical care respiratory therapist for over a decade.

He and his family reside in Southern West Virginia and are members of a local Reformed church.