Hymns to Feed the Imagination

As we head into the fall, I continue my look at hymns that I hope will shape our faith and our church. I offer them not to replace the hymns we know and love, but to place alongside them, as a balance or an alternate.

“Dare to Stand Alone”

Yes, I cited “Dare to be a Daniel” in my last blog. I love that hymn, but… We Presbyterians talk a lot about how small we are, how we’re an aging church, how tight our budgets are, etc., etc. And so we say, “This doesn’t fit our mandate” or “We’re not in the business of…” Of course we have reasons to be careful stewards of our resources.

But I wonder.

I wonder if we suffer, not from a lack of faith, but from a poverty of imagination. New ways of doing things, mission that doesn’t look like mission, worship that doesn’t sound like worship, artists who think outside the loft—we say “no” or give them lukewarm support and hope they’ll go away, or (a specialty) discuss them to death.

There are, of course exceptions to this pattern—churches that step forward in faith and imagination, communities that give and give, even though they are struggling to keep their doors open—and to celebrate these exceptions, I offer the song “When the Poor Ones” (#762 in the Book of Praise). This song celebrates those who have nothing, and yet still “share with strangers,” and the thirsty who offer “water unto us all.”  When those who are suffering and crippled “strengthen others,” when we love in the presence of hate—it is at these times that God still walks with us.

A hymn in the spirit of the parable of the mustard seed, “Cuando el pobre” reminds us, that we don’t need much to move mountains.

Just say “no” to naysayers

It sometimes happens in conversation; it happens a lot in print. Someone sharply criticizes The Way We Do Things. I think to myself (in a kind of sixties way), “Yeah! Right on!”  Surprisingly often, the next sentence in the conversation—or a letter in the Record—will dismiss the criticism as naysaying, a discouraging word that should never be heard.

I wonder…

What’s the difference between a naysayer and a prophet?

The source of our strength, but also part of our problem, could be our loyalty. We prefer to accept what is, with all the warts, skeletons and dysfunctions, because we’re fiercely loyal.

Another strength-that-is-also-a-weakness may be that we have this picture of the church as noble, dignified, pure and above reproach, as is represented by hymns such as “Christ is Made the Sure Foundation” or “Your Hand, O God, Has Guided.”

Alongside these wonderful, irreplaceable hymns, I put this one forward.

Well, two.

James Manley, who wrote “Spirit, Spirit of Gentleness,” offers the image of the church as a dance. One of its lines runs: “Make funny faces, go out of your minds/Find someone near you and bump your behinds.” (Dance, ©1980 James K. Manley). That one didn’t make it into our hymbook—though I’m here to tell you that it was sung—with actions—by the Hymn Society in the U.S. and Canada.

“I Am the Church! You Are the Church!” by Richard Avery and Donald March did make it into The Book of Praise (#475). I confess I looked down my musical nose at this one at first. Yes, I did, and I am not proud of it. But it has won me over. It is  plain, humble, and speaks the truth. It reminds us that we’re all ages and all colours, political as well as cultural; it pictures church as a place where we laugh and cry, and offers the hope that “always it’s learning.” It also reminds us who agonize over our buildings, compare them with others, or feature them on our websites, that we, and not our buildings, are the church.

I hope we can always learn, even from the naysayers. Who knows? Maybe some are prophets after all.

“Can a Little Child Like Me?”

Do we love singing, “Yes, oh, yes, be good and true” as the children troop up to the front because these dear old children’s hymns are clear and simple and good, or because we love tidy and straightforward theology?

In spite of the fact that we agonize over our shrinking…well, everything, we actually like things when they’re small, tidy and manageable. Maybe it’s our history: Presbyterians helped shape an unruly nation with hard-headed business sense, and a determination to create responsible government. Do we still like things compact and straightforward because they are easier to control?

As an alternate—a minority report , if you like—I offer Sylvia Dunstan’s “You, Lord, Are Both Lamb and Shepherd” (#356 in The Book of Praise).  Here is a hymn that portrays Jesus as both sides of a very complex coin. Of course the two sides are complementary. But even a cursory reading of the gospels shows a Jesus who might prove an uncomfortable presence at our church committee meetings, and our choir practices.