When Saints are called in hidden ways

1.
When saints are called in hidden ways,
Where silence shapes the soul,
You chose Matthias for the Twelve
To make the broken whole.

2.
As dawnlight moves through Irish fields
And stirs the waking air,
So moved your Spirit in his heart
To stand in faith and prayer.

3.
By wells where ancient waters rise,
By ash and steadfast oak,
You teach us how a quiet “yes”
Becomes a living yoke.

4.
The curlew’s cry on bog and shore,
The linnet in the thorn,
Sing of the trust Matthias held
When hope felt thin and worn.

5.
When choices weigh like winter clouds
And paths grow dim with doubt,
Grant us his courage to step forth
And cast our whole lives out.

6.
Bless now your Church in hearth and hill,
In valley, home, and glen;
With Saint Matthias guide our steps
Till peace is born again.

Hymn information

First line: When saints are called in hidden ways
Text: Michael McFarland Campbell
Metre: CM
Tune: Billing, Dundee, or Bangor
Theme: St Matthias

The Hidden Apostle: A Reflection on Matthias and the Neurodivergent Soul

When I sat down to write When saints are called in hidden ways, I wasn’t just thinking about a historical figure in the Book of Acts. I was thinking about the quiet, often overlooked presence of those of us who move through the world with “hidden” differences.

The Beauty of the Periphery

St Matthias is unique among the Twelve. He wasn’t called from a fishing boat in a moment of high drama; he was already there, watching and waiting in the silence. In a world that often demands we perform, mask, or “shout” to be seen, Matthias represents the sanctity of the quiet observer.

In the hymn, I wrote:

For the neurodivergent mind, silence isn’t always an absence—it’s a workspace. It’s where we process sensory input, navigate social complexities, and find our footing. Like Matthias, many of us have been “present” all along, even when the “Twelve” (the neurotypical standard) didn’t have a seat for us.

Rooted in the Landscape

The imagery of the Irish bog, the curlew, and the linnet reflects a sensory-rich faith. For many of us, God isn’t found in a loud sermon, but in the specific, tactile details of the world:

• The way dawnlight moves through a field.
• The “thin and worn” hope of a bird’s cry.
• The steadfastness of an oak.

These aren’t just poetic flourishes; they are “anchors” for a mind that often feels adrift in a chaotic world.

The Courage of the “Yes”

The heart of the hymn lies in the “quiet yes.” In a neurotypical society, we are often asked to conform to paths that don’t fit us. To cast our “whole lives out” (Verse 5) as neurodivergent people requires a specific kind of courage: the courage to step forth exactly as we are, trusting that our “hidden way” is exactly where the Spirit intended us to be.

As we celebrate the Feast of St Matthias, may we recognize that being “chosen” doesn’t always mean being the loudest or the most obvious. Sometimes, the most vital parts of the Body of Christ are the ones that have been waiting quietly in the wings, ready to make the broken whole.

Copyright

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

Written recently and shared here as part of the NeuroDivine hymn collection.