Bursting Into Song

My middle grandchild – the almost three-year-old redhead in Texas – has really taken to singing. She now has music classes at her pre-school and her times with Miss April are among her favorites. While some of her notes are uncertain, there can be no fault found with the level of enthusiasm. At the moment, her favorite tune is, “Shabat Shalom.”

No, we are not Jewish – not that that would be a problem. We love singing in any form.

Actually, I plan on teaching her the “Dreidel Song” when I am in Dallas for Thanksgiving. So, with her penchant for wearing crowns, hats, and other stuff on her head, she may soon appear in a yarmulke. We may also try, “This old man, he played one…..” but I am a bit sensitive about the “old man” part.

Both she and her older brother – the four-year old – have inquisitive spirits and think nothing of asking very probing questions, regardless of being within earshot of those being “probed.” “Are you an old man, Granddaddy?” “What is ‘paddy-wack’?”

My daughter and her brood were recently in the produce section at Whole Foods when my grandson spied a young Orthodox lad with curled peyos – the uncut sideburns. He had raised his finger to point and was in the midst of opening his mouth to voice a detailed question about the haircut so very different from his when his mother whisked him away from the kumquats and dashed two aisles over to the distraction of cereals.

The sudden shift in locale didn’t quell his curiosity about the young lad’s hair, but at least the devout adherent to the teachings of Leviticus was not privy to the discussion.

Intellectual inquisitiveness must never be quelled.

Nor should the desire to sing!

The Free Church of Scotland has decided to do so – to sing!

In a plenary session of the church, the first such gathering since 1843, a vote to allow both singing and instruments in worship narrowly passed. So, while they are embracing the raising of the voice in song and the sounding of the timbrel and organ, and maybe a stray guitar or two, there is not a ground swell of enthusiasm among the church hierarchy. To be accurate, the church was not totally void of music – the Psalms were sung. But despite being “Free,” there was no freedom to break out into “Gimme That Ol’ Time Religion.” We are talking John Knox here. I recall seeing him always clad in black. A very severe guy.

There are those in the Free Church who worry that this new move toward melody might cause a split. "Disharmony, if you will." Actually, the Free Church was formed from a split away from The Church of Scotland in 1843 over the right of a congregation to turn down the choice of a minister by the “patron” of the church – usually the local laird. I suppose if the split happens over the singing, the result will be the “Really Free Church of Scotland.”

It is amazing what will divide a congregation of “believers.”

I remember one country church in Alabama that became wrangled about the placement of the piano. Some felt it should be on the right side of the cramped worship space and others felt it should be on the left. At this time they were in total agreement over the notion that Maylene Hightower should not direct the choir since she was divorced. While it was Mr. Hightower that was caught “in flagrante dilecto” with his secretary, Maylene’s presence in front of the choir was an ever present reminder of the town’s worst scandal in years, and that just was too much.

The position of the piano had nothing to do with the architectural purity of the sanctuary – it was a very plain space. It was more about the compromised hearing of two elder worshipers. One heard better on the left side, and the other on the right. And they sat on opposite sides of the center aisle.

There was a large Baptist church down south that had major disagreements over the building of a new house of worship. The minister, feeling very full of righteous zeal, pushed for an “auditorium” that would seat 2,000 souls. The Deacons felt that was too ambitious. Eventually, the preacher won – he got his large space, but lost half his congregation. Three-hundred folks can seem such a trifle in a space that seats two-thousand. He was so obsessed with maintaining the pristine beauty of his new temple that he insisted all doors into the space have locks. You must always keep out the wrong types.

This same church organized a petition to keep a homeless shelter from being built nearby. It was not good for property values and poor people would be wandering about. "Oh, how I love Jesus."

Once, a guest evangelist, one of those “Miami-preacher types” with the pastel colored suits that reminded you of “Saturday Night Fever,” entered the pulpit area after having made his way through the soprano section of the choir – stepping on hymnbooks and toes. The door onto the preaching rostrum was locked. His was not a look of contentment.

When he stood to speak, still smarting from his ordeal, he said, “Praise Jesus! He is coming again someday. Christ is coming in all his glory. But I wonder if he has a key to this place?”

There was a very subdued altar call that night. Jesus seemed to be calling softer and more tenderly than usual.

So whether the Free Church of Scotland can handle “How Great Thou Art” remains to be seen.

Meanwhile, the redhead in Texas has added “Jesus Loves Me” to her repertoire.