Sidewalk Prophets - Come To The Table Lyrics

Album: Something Different (Deluxe Version)
Released: 28 Aug 2015
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Lyrics

We all start on the outside

The outside looking in

This is where grace begins

We were hungry we were thirsty

With nothing left to give

Oh the shape that we were in

And Just when all hope seemed lost

Love opened the door for us


He said come to the table

Come join the sinners who have been redeemed

Take your place beside the Savior

Sit down and be set free

Come to the table


Come meet this motley crew of misfits

These liars and these thieves

There's no one unwelcome here

That sin and shame that you brought with you

You can leave it at the door

And Let mercy draw you near


Come to the table

Come join the sinners who have been redeemed

Take your place beside the Savior

Sit down and be set free

Come to the table

Come to the table


To the thief and to the doubter

To the hero and the coward

To the prisoner and the soldier

To the young and to the older

All who hunger all who thirst

All the last and all the first

All the paupers and the princes

All who’ve failed you've been forgiven

All who dream and all who suffer

All who loved and lost another

All the chained and all the free

All who follow all who lead

Anyone who's been let down

All the lost you have been found

All who have been labeled right or wrong

To everyone who hears This song


Come to the table

Come join the sinners who have been redeemed

Take your place beside the Savior

Sit down and be set free

Come to the table

Come to the table

Sit down and be set free

Come to the table

Video

Sidewalk Prophets - Come To The Table (Official Lyric Video)

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Meaning & Inspiration

I’ve spent a lot of time leaning against the cold brick on the outside, peering through the glass, convinced that if the folks inside really knew what I’d been doing in the dark, they’d bolt the door. Sidewalk Prophets put it plain: "We all start on the outside, the outside looking in." That’s the default, isn't it? The assumption that you have to scrub off the grime before you’re fit to sit at the table. I spent years trying to wash my hands raw, only to realize the stain goes deeper than the skin.

When I hear them sing about the "motley crew of misfits," I don’t hear a metaphor. I see my own face. I see the nights I spent trading my integrity for a cheap thrill, the mornings waking up wishing I hadn’t. There’s a line in this song—"That sin and shame that you brought with you, you can leave it at the door"—that guts me every time. It’s a nice thought, but living it? That’s hard. We’re so attached to our wreckage. We think our shame is the only thing that proves we’re sorry, like if we keep carrying the bag of trash, God will see how serious we are about being good now.

But Jesus didn’t invite the Pharisees to the table; he invited the people who knew they were broken beyond repair. Think about Matthew the tax collector. He was sitting in his booth, a traitor to his own people, and Jesus just walked up and said, "Follow me." He didn't ask for a resume or a clean record. He just invited him to eat. That’s the scandal of it.

"Sit down and be set free." It’s infuriating, really. We want to work for our salvation. We want to climb the ladder, prove we’ve changed, show off a little bit of holiness before we take a seat. But grace isn't a reward for being cleaned up. It’s the invitation that cleans you up.

I’m still shaking off the dust from the road. I still catch myself looking over my shoulder, waiting for someone to point at the door and tell me I don't belong here, that I’ve overstayed my welcome. But the table is set. It isn't for the perfect; it's for the starving. And if I’m honest, I’m still ravenous. I’m still a thief, still a liar on my bad days, still trying to figure out why He’d save a place for someone who’s spent so long running away. Maybe that’s the point. Maybe you don’t get to be whole until you finally stop trying to hide the broken parts and just sit down among the other thieves.

I don't know if I'm fully seated yet. I’m still standing in the doorway, half-afraid to let go of the shame I’ve been carrying. But the door is open. And for now, that’s enough.

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