Create in Me a Clean Heart

I wanna tell my story, but the truth is hard to bear
Will it lessen my confessing, will my lesson keep you guessing
If I wait until the end and I pretend I wasn’t there?
It starts out with a Papa and his couple brawny boys
The younger gets a hunger to be leading life alone
Demands a cash advance and spends on women, wine and toys
While dining with the swine he gets to hungering for home.
Comes limping down the lane, a pimp in pain, no sordid gain,
Now humbled and repentant, mumbling asks to be a slave
His Papa wraps him up and wipes away each teary stain
“Let’s party, ‘cuz my long lost son has risen from his grave!”
A happy ever after seems in order—not so fast!
Remember that I said that Papa had an older boy?
Reflecting on his reputation and his brother’s restoration
He demands an explanation of the joyous celebration
Whining in his own frustration at the lack of acclamation
For his faithful occupation. He required no reformation.
What a dirty revelation that this sinner caused sensation.
Muttering an imprecation at his Papa’s great elation
Turns his back refusing to share in his father’s joy.


Create in me a clean heart, Father
I am Your ungrateful, rebellious daughter
I said I had no sin and so my sin remains
Purify with hyssop, Father, cleanse me of my stains.
Create in me a clean heart, Father
I am Your ungrateful, rebellious daughter
I said I had no sin and so my sin remains
Purify with hyssop, Father, cleanse me of my stains.


I’ll paint it with a different brush, to make the story clear.
A different place, a different space, behold the same redeeming grace
Embracing and erasing as it draws the sinner near.
As Jesus eats His dinner with a teacher of the law
A lady somewhat shady makes an entrance to the scene
Silently this sinner gives the Master’s feet a spa
The Pharisee finds kissing feet to be a sight obscene.
In answer to the question that had never yet been made
“Simon,” said the Master, “Let’s suppose two men had debts.
One owes much and one much less, the Master pardons both
The one who is forgiven little, finds he soon forgets.
He proudly casts his eyes about for someone worse than he
And seizes on his fellow-debtor, “Give me what is mine!”
If the Master hadn’t heard the news and kindly intervened
The second man would still be in the clinker doing time.
Mercy isn’t measured by the size of what’s forgiven.”
But Simon’s heart was hardened by the lie that he’d been living.
Reflecting on her reputation and her current occupation
He detests the explanation for the Master’s degradation
Whining in his own frustration at the lack of acclamation
What a dirty revelation that this sinner caused sensation.
Trashing up his celebration by her teary reformation.
Muttering an imprecation at this hooker’s restoration
Turns, refusing to accept the grace that she’s been given.


Create in me a clean heart, Father
I am Your ungrateful, rebellious daughter
I said I had no sin and so my sin remains
Purify with hyssop, Father, cleanse me of my stains.
Create in me a clean heart, Father
I am Your ungrateful, rebellious daughter
I said I had no sin and so my sin remains
Purify with hyssop, Father, cleanse me of my stains.


I know what you been thinking as you listen to my story
This history’s the mystery of how God saved me graciously
And thankfully and gratefully I’m giving Him the glory.
I wish I were the prodigal who wound up feeding swine
Or the woman of the city whose repentance proved God’s pity
Or the wretched debtor that the Master saved from doing time.
But actually, in honesty, the truth you’ll see exposing me
Is that I am the older son, the wicked slave, the Pharisee.

And since I scorn repentant brothers, pointing out the sins of others
Suddenly reality is facing me with clarity
Is there a possibility that mercy hasn’t measured me?


Jesus said:
‘If you forgive men their transgressions, your heavenly Father will also forgive you. But if you do not forgive men, then your Father will not forgive your transgressions.” (Matthew 6:14-15


The secret isn’t sinning more so that I am forgiven more
Instead I should be recognizing that my prideful patronizing
Is a sin that bears despising just like those I’m ostracizing.

I understand the reprimand and that is why I’m agonizing.


Create in me a clean heart, Father
I am Your ungrateful, rebellious daughter
I said I had no sin and so my sin remains
Purify with hyssop, Father, cleanse me of my stains.
Create in me a clean heart, Father
I am Your ungrateful, rebellious daughter
I said I had no sin and so my sin remains
Purify with hyssop, Father, cleanse me of my stains.