The Jerusalem Sinner Saved; or, Good News for the Vilest of Men — Inside the Classic

Jerusalem's Decay as the Ground for Mercy

Bunyan's opening taxonomy of Jerusalem is not mere background. He stresses that the city is now 'decayed, degenerated, and apostatized,' having 'put and set up their own traditions' in place of God's ordinances. This decay is essential: the command to begin at Jerusalem targets those most guilty of rebellion. Bunyan does not soften the city's guilt; instead, he uses its apostasy to magnify the grace of the commission. The worse the sin, the more striking the offer. This pattern—first describing a state of ruin, then showing how that ruin becomes the very reason for priority—recurs throughout the sermon.

The Blood of Christ as Infinite Currency

Bunyan employs a striking economic metaphor to argue for the sufficiency of Christ's blood. He writes that offering mercy first to the biggest sinners is like a man 'beginning with giving handfuls of guineas' to the poor—such generosity implies either 'unsearchable riches' or eventual depletion. Christ's first act of mercy to the worst sinners, Bunyan reasons, proves his merits are inexhaustible: 'He is not a jot the poorer for all the forgivenesses that he has given away to great sinners.' The metaphor recurs, reinforcing the idea that grace operates 'upon the square' of Christ's worth, not the sinner's merit.

Encouragement for the Self-Condemned

Bunyan directly addresses readers who fear rejection due to the 'greatness of their sins.' He insists that the text 'answereth the necessities of such sinners' as 'face answereth face in a glass.' The sermon repeatedly returns to this point: the biggest sinners are not only welcome but are the primary audience. Bunyan's language is concrete and urgent, urging those who think they have 'not your fellows in the world' to come. He does not speculate on their motives or inner states; instead, he anchors the invitation in the explicit wording of the biblical commission.

Repetition and the Rhythm of Assurance

Structurally, the sermon builds through repetition. Bunyan returns again and again to the phrase 'begin at Jerusalem,' each time drawing a new implication. This iterative method mirrors the oral delivery of a sermon, reinforcing the central claim through variation. The movement between sections—from Jerusalem's decay, to the sufficiency of Christ's blood, to encouragement for the vilest—creates a cumulative argument. Bunyan's prose is plain but forceful, relying on scriptural citation and logical inference rather than emotional appeal. The reader is led step by step to see the command as both a historical directive and a present promise.

Bunyan's sermon is best read as a sustained meditation on a single verse, with each paragraph unpacking a new facet of the command. Pay attention to how he moves from the historical Jerusalem to the universal sinner, and how the metaphor of infinite riches recurs. The structure is not linear but spiral, returning to the same point with added weight. This is not a general treatise on salvation but a specific argument about order and priority in the offer of grace.

That rainy afternoon, Bunyan’s insistence that “Jerusalem” meant the worst offenders first felt like a quiet elbow to the ribs. I sat with it until the light faded, then picked up another worn volume by chance—Discipline and Other Sermons — Story, Setting & Ideas—and the afternoon seemed to stretch, gentler, into the same relentless mercy.