I grew up singing hymns. My granny’s a devoted Baptist and she would take me to church with her on Sundays. Morning and evening, we participated in the services. Prior to the message, we would sing songs from big, thick, songbooks. The song leader would choose three to four songs to sing and we would turn to those pages. I’ve come to love that part and frankly, it was the only thing I look forward to besides kid’s Sunday school hour.
I didn’t understand any of the gospel talks then. All I was certain of is that I fell in love and equated church with the singing of old hymns.
Fast forward today, we have songs on Power Points flashed on screens. They’re economical, trendy, and convenient. Rare are the times that a hymn is included in the song line-up. Most that we use today are from the albums released by Christian music industry. Not that I have anything against them.
Perhaps, I just miss the traditional pulling out of songbooks, flipping through the pages, and the singing of different lines. That, to me, stimulates more the mind to actively engage with the lyrics. Compare them to modern, worship songs, repetition is common. That’s necessary for emphasis, but if overdone, it’s unhelpful.
Nevertheless, that’s not me despising new songs. I welcome them. Just stating observations.
But for the love of hymns, I got pulled in by this bluegrass piece of Marvin Morrow. Have a good listen to it first.
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“Momma’s Old Song Book” by Marvin Morrow
Ain’t that precious? The first line expresses precisely how I feel. A simple singing of familiar hymns can flood the mind of my fondest memories. It transports me back to my granny’s old church. As we sing, I feel like a child again, my eyes following grandma’s index finger as she points to the next line.