This hymn began with a simple wondering:
What if Christ doesn’t only meet us at the table, but walks the whole week with us?
Faith is rarely confined to sacred hours. It unfolds in Mondays heavy with responsibility, Wednesdays full of noise, Fridays marked by grief, and Saturdays thick with waiting. This hymn traces the days one by one, naming the ordinary places—roads, rivers, markets, silence—and trusting that Christ is already there.
At the table, grace gathers us as we are. Beyond the table, that same grace keeps pace with our work, our fatigue, our care, and our hope. This is a song for those who experience time differently, who carry faith in their bodies as much as their thoughts, and who need reminders that God is present not only in moments of clarity but in the whole rhythm of the week.
May it offer steadiness, companionship, and the quiet assurance of being met
—again and again.
Shepherd, host, High King
Christ calls us to the table here,
Where grace and earth unite;
He gathers all our wandering hearts
And sets our hope alight.
Here at your table, Christ our Lord,
Your mercy freely flows;
You walk the weeks beside us still,
The One our spirit knows.
On Monday’s road of work and care,
Through mist along the moor,
Christ treads the ancient paths with us
And makes our footing sure.
On Tuesday by the river’s bend,
Where quiet waters gleam,
Christ pours the cup of peace for us
Beside the holy stream.
On Wednesday in the market’s noise,
Where voices rise and fall,
Christ breaks the bread of gentleness
Within the bustling hall.
On Thursday through the hedgerows green,
Where lark and linnet sing,
Christ walks with those who journey long
Beneath his sheltering wing.
On Friday at the shadowed cross,
Where sorrow’s tide runs deep,
Christ bears the weight of all our grief
And holds the hearts that weep.
On Saturday, when silence falls
Across the hallowed land,
Christ keeps the vigil of our souls
And guards us with his hand.
And so we come again in love,
To feast, remember, sing;
For Christ has walked our week with us—
Our Shepherd, Host, High King.
Here at your table, Christ our Lord,
Your mercy freely flows;
You walk the weeks beside us still,
The One our spirit knows.
Text © 2026 Michael McFarland Campbell. All rights reserved.
I have deliberately not paired this text with a Double Common Metre tune, as I’m interested in hearing how others imagine it sung. Tune suggestions are warmly invited in the comments.
NeuroDivine 
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