Hymns | Proper 23 Year A | 11 October 2026

Across the bogs and heather hills

Across the bogs and heather hills,
Your gracious summons rings;
Though we make idols of our fears,
You call us still as kings.
You spread a feast by sea and strand,
For all who roam and roam;
And through the mist of doubt and care
You lead the exiles home.

2.
When curlews wheel above the marsh,
And grey waves pound the shore,
Teach us whatever's just and true,
And seek Your face the more.
For though our hearts, like Israel's, stray,
When answers seem delayed,
Your mercy flows through stream and glen,
As when for us Christ prayed.

3.
The rowan blazing on the hill,
The blackbird's morning song,
Remind us of Your steadfast love
That bears with us so long.
You gather strangers from the roads,
The lost from field and town;
And clothe with grace the soul that comes
To lay its burdens down.

4.
Along the boreen's winding track,
Past hawthorn white with bloom,
Your kingdom finds unlooked-for hearts
And drives away our gloom.
Make firm our minds in joy and peace,
In gentleness and prayer;
That we may wear the robe of love
And find Your presence there.

5.
Where ocean winds sweep peat-dark plains,
And rain veils distant heights,
You turn us from the works we make
To trust Your truer lights.
The feast is set, the table spread,
The door stands open wide;
Yet still You shape our hearts anew
To dwell there at Your side.

6.
Then with the saints of every age,
By hill and shore and sea,
We’ll praise the God whose patient love
Has set His people free.
The God who calls, the God who stays
When lesser gods have failed;
Whose peace guards hearts through every storm,
Whose welcome has prevailed.

Reflection

There is something deeply reassuring about a God who does not leave when we lose our way.

The readings behind my hymn The God Who Calls and Stays all circle around the same mystery. Human beings wander. God remains.

When We Make Certainty into an Idol

In Exodus, the people become anxious while Moses is absent on the mountain. Faced with uncertainty, they create something visible, tangible, and immediate. The golden calf is not merely an idol. It is an attempt to make uncertainty manageable. It tries to replace trust with control.

I find that temptation remarkably familiar.

When life feels confusing, when patterns break down, when plans unravel, we are always tempted to grasp for something that feels more predictable. We may not mould golden calves from molten gold, but we create idols of certainty, success, reputation, ideology, fear, routine, or even our own understanding. We cling to them because they seem easier than waiting.

Yet Scripture presents a God who is patient with our impatience.

Remembering Mercy

Psalm 106 recalls failure after failure, but also mercy after mercy. The psalmist is honest about human shortcomings without becoming cynical about human worth. That honesty matters. Faith is not pretending we are better than we are. Faith is remembering that God’s compassion is greater than our inconsistency.

The psalm invites us to tell the truth about ourselves and, at the same time, about God. Both are necessary. Without honesty, faith becomes denial. Without mercy, faith becomes despair.

Lessons from the Irish Landscape

Living in the Irish midlands, I often notice how the landscape itself teaches this lesson. Rain comes and goes. Rivers rise and fall. Bogs seem unchanged for centuries, yet quietly transform year by year. Rowan trees flame red in autumn and stand bare through winter. The land is patient. It does not panic when seasons change.

Perhaps God’s faithfulness is something like that.

The curlew calling across a marsh, the blackbird singing from a hedge, the slow movement of water through a bog channel all speak of a steadiness that does not need to hurry. The landscape often proclaims what we struggle to believe: not every delay is abandonment, and not every silence is absence.

Training the Heart to Notice

In Philippians, Paul invites his readers to dwell on whatever is true, honourable, just, pure, pleasing, and commendable. I have always been drawn to that passage because it offers a way of paying attention. It is less a command than a practice.

• Pay attention to what is true.
• Pay attention to what gives life.
• Pay attention to what reflects beauty, goodness, and grace.

The blackbird singing from a hedgerow does not solve the world’s problems. A curlew calling across a marsh does not remove anxiety. Yet such moments anchor us. They remind us that the world is more than our fears. They draw us back into the present moment, where God is already waiting.

The Feast at the End of the Road

Then comes the Gospel’s image of the banquet.

The invitation goes out far beyond the expected guests. Roads, lanes, crossroads, and byways become places of welcome. Those who imagined themselves outsiders discover that there is room at the table.

That image has sustained me for many years.

The kingdom of God is not a private club for the religiously accomplished. It is a feast prepared by grace. The invitation arrives before we have earned it. We are welcomed before we have proved ourselves worthy.

Yet the Gospel also reminds us that grace changes us. The wedding garment is not a condition of entry but a sign of transformation. To accept the invitation is to allow ourselves to be reshaped by the love that welcomes us.

The God Who Calls and Stays

That tension lies at the heart of the hymn.

• We wander, yet we are called.
• We fail, yet we are forgiven.
• We are invited, yet we are changed.
• We become anxious, yet we are offered peace.

Again and again, Scripture reveals God not simply as the One who calls, but as the One who stays. Through deserts and doubts, through feast and famine, through certainty and confusion, God’s presence remains.

Perhaps that is the deepest hope of all.

• Not that we never wander.
• Not that we never struggle.
• Not even that we always understand.

But that across the bogs and heather hills of our lives, a gracious summons still rings, and the One who calls us home never stops calling.

Hymn information 

First line: Across the bogs and heathered hills
Text: Michael McFarland Campbell
Metre: DCM
Tune: Forest Green, Kingsfold, Resignation, Kilmarnock
Theme: Proper 23 Year A
NDH-0356

© Michael McFarland Campbell. 2026.
Permission granted for local church or parish use with attribution. Not for commercial reproduction.