When mercy walks among us

Blessed are you
who come weary,

you who arrive carrying
both faith and trembling,

you who are uncertain
whether hope is still permitted to you.

This blessing is for those
standing at thresholds:

at the tax booth,
at the bedside,
at the edge of the crowd,

at the place where grief
and longing
have nearly emptied the heart.

May you hear
the quiet summons of Christ

not as demand
but invitation.

“Follow me.”

Not when you are worthy.
Not when you are healed.
Not when your faith is complete.

But now.

As you are.

May the God
who promised Abraham life
where there was barrenness

plant in you
that same stubborn trust

which dares to believe
that endings are not final,
that deadened places can breathe again,
that mercy is stronger than fear.

And when your courage
is no more
than reaching for the hem
of holy presence,

may that be enough.

When your prayer
is no more
than falling at Jesus’ feet,

may that be enough.

When your hope flickers
small as an oil lamp
in heavy night,

may that too
be enough.

For Christ still walks
among the wounded,

still sits beside the rejected,

still enters houses
thick with mourning,

still lifts the hand
everyone else has released.

May you become
a people of such mercy

that no one must earn
their welcome among you.

May compassion
outrun judgement.

May healing
interrupt despair.

May faith rise in you
like morning rain upon dry earth,

gentle, persistent,
full of impossible life.

And may the One
who calls the forgotten,
touches the untouchable,
and raises what seemed lost forever

gather you also

into the fierce
and tender
kingdom of grace. Amen

Thank you for all the off-line encouragement and messages since last week! Much appreciated…

The blessing for this coming Sunday is based on Hosea 5:15-6:6; Romans 4:13-end and Matthew 9:9-13, 18-26.

Hosea speaks of a people returning to God after brokenness and discovering that God desires mercy, faithfulness, and a restored relationship more than outward religious sacrifice. And then there’s that lovely line about the Lord coming like spring rain watering the earth.

Romans reflects on the faith of Abraham, who trusted God’s promise even when hope seemed impossible, believing that God brings life out of barrenness and death.

The Gospel tells of Jesus calling Matthew the tax collector, welcoming outsiders, healing the suffering woman, and restoring life to a young girl — revealing Christ’s compassion, mercy, and power to bring healing and new life.

So, there’s a lot here! Consequently, this blessing may be a little long but I was loathe to reduce it. However, please do feel free to edit it or extract from it to fit your purposes, particularly if you’re not using all three of these readings.

I’m new to Substack and this is my first post - so, bear with me if there are any glitches! The intention is that each week I will publish a Lectionary-based blessing for the following Sunday, as a resource for preachers in their sermons or by worship leaders during an appropriate part of the service. They could also be used for personal reflection.

The readings for next Sunday, Trinity Sunday, are Isaiah 40:12-17, 27-end; Psalm 8; 2 Corinthians 13:11-end and Matthew 28:16-end. The image that I’ve used in my sermon is to start by thinking of the Trinity as being like a chord in music, 3 notes sounded together - but then moving on to think of something musical with more movement than just a fixed chord, an interwoven relationship in which we’re invited to dwell. This blessing looks to hold those scriptures and that musical imagery together.

A blessing for the music that holds you

Blessed are you
standing at the edge of mystery,
trying to name
what cannot be contained.

Blessed are you
when the music seems too vast,
too intricate,
too far beyond your hearing.

May you trust
the steady note beneath your life -
the One who holds you
even when you do not notice.

May you find yourself
woven into a pattern of love
where no part stands alone,
and nothing is without meaning.

And when the rhythms of your life
do not seem to align,
when faith feels uncertain
and understanding incomplete,

may you remember:

you are not required
to resolve the music -

only to dwell within it.

And may the love that creates you,
the grace that meets you,
and the Spirit that moves in you
draw you ever deeper
into the song of God.

Amen.