Recently, as Sandy and I were driving to Benton, she put in a CD of hymns. As we listened we began to sing along. After several songs had played, and we had sung the hymns, recalling almost all the words, I realized something remarkable.
We had learned most of those hymns over 50 years ago. While we rarely hear them today in church, on the radio, or anywhere else, we still were able to sing the hymns, knowing most of the words. The words of those great old songs of the faith were, in most cases, birthed out of life's trials, tribulations, and sometimes the joys of the writers of those long loved and heart felt songs.
In contrast, listening to the songs popular today, I can hear them on Sunday morning, and the next day cannot recall a word of the songs. Now, granted, part of that may be attributed to the fact that, as they are being sung, I cannot hear any of the words. And, the reason for that is two-fold. One, the words are drowned out by the excessive volume of the instruments accompanying the songs. The second reason is that I have never been as old as I am right now, and the quality of my hearing is not what it once was.
My purpose in this blog is not to bash the music we experience in the worship service today. It is rather to point out the endurance and the power of the old hymns. The stories of the writers of those hymns still provide a valuable contribution in worship.
The number of events and happenings I can remember from 50 years ago is diminishing as I grow older. I am blessed to know that the wonderful words of persons like Fanny Crosby, Isaac Watts, Charles Wesley, Frances Havergal, John Newton among many others, are not only embedded in my brain, but they are also occupy a place in my heart.
We had learned most of those hymns over 50 years ago. While we rarely hear them today in church, on the radio, or anywhere else, we still were able to sing the hymns, knowing most of the words. The words of those great old songs of the faith were, in most cases, birthed out of life's trials, tribulations, and sometimes the joys of the writers of those long loved and heart felt songs.
In contrast, listening to the songs popular today, I can hear them on Sunday morning, and the next day cannot recall a word of the songs. Now, granted, part of that may be attributed to the fact that, as they are being sung, I cannot hear any of the words. And, the reason for that is two-fold. One, the words are drowned out by the excessive volume of the instruments accompanying the songs. The second reason is that I have never been as old as I am right now, and the quality of my hearing is not what it once was.
My purpose in this blog is not to bash the music we experience in the worship service today. It is rather to point out the endurance and the power of the old hymns. The stories of the writers of those hymns still provide a valuable contribution in worship.
The number of events and happenings I can remember from 50 years ago is diminishing as I grow older. I am blessed to know that the wonderful words of persons like Fanny Crosby, Isaac Watts, Charles Wesley, Frances Havergal, John Newton among many others, are not only embedded in my brain, but they are also occupy a place in my heart.
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