By Abbey Adcox
We gather this morning in a world marked by division, fear and uncertainty. Headlines and social media tell of neighbors treated as strangers, voices silenced and power wielded without mercy. In such times, worship becomes an act of resistance and hope as we come carrying our sorrowful hearts, unsure of what faithfulness looks like in these days.
Cole Arthur Riley writes, “Lament is not weakness. It is how we love while we are in pain.” Today, our lament is also an act of love — for our immigrant neighbors, for our silenced brothers and sisters, for our divided nation. In worship, we refuse to numb ourselves to sorrow. Instead we bring it honestly before God, trusting that divine mercy is greater than the arrogance of those who rise up against the vulnerable.
Even in lament, we are reminded that God’s kingdom is often hidden in ordinary things: a seed planted, bread rising, treasure discovered by accident. God’s reign is not dependent on political clout or cultural dominance, but on the quiet and steady work of love and persistent faithfulness. The psalmist’s cry, “Incline your ear, O Lord, … for I am poor and needy,” assures us that God bends low to hear the voices of the vulnerable and is attentive to our fragile selves. Our prayers need not be polished; they need only to be honest.
And yet Psalm 86 does not leave us in lament alone. It proclaims: “You, O Lord, are a God merciful and gracious, slow to anger, abounding in steadfast love and faithfulness.” This steadfast love is the soil in which God’s kingdom grows — like yeast hidden in dough or a seed in the earth, imperceptible at first but unstoppable in its growth.
Grace carries us, as the anthem will remind us, through “many dangers, toils and snares.” And in worship, we practice the world as God intends: a community where the poor are remembered, the stranger is welcomed and mercy has the last word.
So bring your worries, your weariness and your longing for justice. Here, in this gathered community, we open ourselves to the presence of the God who listens, who loves without end and whose kingdom is already at work among us.