A STORY WORTH TELLING
“Gratitude turns what we have into enough.” — Anonymous
“Lifelong member of the church of Christ, serving as song leader most of those years.”
I wrote that last week, one of many notes on one of many yellow tablets cluttering my desk. I’ve been struggling for a reasonable resemblance of a forward for my book.
I’ve resolved to finish it soon; the forward or the book. Maybe both.
And yes, it was on my list of resolutions for this year and the year before.
A revered mentor once offered as how writing something in longhand commits it to memory. He bought more yellow tablets than anyone I knew and amazed many with astounding feats of recall in conversations.
The same practice also works well for soul searching. Remembering years of church singing is one thing. But writing about it was like, “Wow! That’s a long time for someone not to notice that I can’t sing.”
Most Church of Christ congregations practice only a cappella singing in worship services. No pianos, no organs, no recorded background music. Guitars, drums, harmonicas — nada.
However, my adolescent friends and I at Southside Church of Christ in Mount Pleasant used to sit on the back and hum.
We were always in trouble for something.
But we can chat about theology another time.
For purposes of this column, worship in song without musical instruments is simply background for the way life is when you were raised in a Church of Christ family. Like most of my generation of cousins on Mom’s side, Mom and her siblings were reared the same way.
That reminds me of the story about my cousin Leigh, who grew up in the small Panhandle Texas community of Kress, population 596 — salute! In Kress back then, you could easily walk anywhere in town.
Probably still can. The town’s one grocery store, the farm supply, the Phillips 66 service station and even Lawson’s Café were within walking distance. Most folks drove on Sundays, though. Everybody gathered at Lawson’s after church.
As the story goes at family reunions, Leigh was in grade school when she attended the Kress Baptist vacation Bible school with her friends. The first morning, songs about Bible characters got underway in the Baptist tradition, with kiddos singing with the piano while reading words from books.
After just one verse, Leigh stopped singing and folded her arms.
“Why did you stop singing?” the Bible school volunteer asked.
“Can you not read all of the words?”
“I can read the words just fine,” she countered defensively. “But I can’t hear the song over that piano.”
I still remember the first time I heard congregational singing as a young song leader, part of the Bible training for young men in leadership roles that includes singing, teaching and praying. I survived that first song on a Sunday night.
When the last note of “Blessed Assurance” fell silent, I returned to my seat relieved, expecting someone to say, “Well, that one can’t sing.”
But no one objected.
So, I learned the basics of 3/4 and 4/4 time.
I shaped notes and four-part harmony and attended singing schools; traveling teachers who visited churches to teach singing. And I learned from the oldtimers about hymns called 7-11 songs. Seven words sung 11 times.
I even remember the pitch pipe controversy, stemming from disagreements over whether the use of a pitch pipe for exact notes was scriptural. I saw it escalate once to the point of two brethren arguing over it before they agreed to disagree and still be friendly with one another — a rare occurrence in congregational differences. I don’t think either changed his mind. They were just no longer enemies as “Sweet Hour of Prayer” resonated through the church house.
The guy who didn’t want to give up his pitch pipe continued to nonchalantly slip it out of his pocket, though. Blow one quiet note, and then quickly pretend he didn’t do it. The other one simply ignored him.
A lifetime of witnessing debates in doctrine has brought me to believe that whatever the controversy of the day, if we all just focus on God’s word and his will, we can usually be thankful in the end.
Best wishes this week for a happy Thanksgiving. Let’s all pause to count our blessings long enough that our gratitude turns what we have into just enough.
I’m thankful that I might actually finish my book project soon. And I am grateful for the opportunity to still lead singing in God’s house every week.
But maybe most of all, I’m thankful no one has noticed that I still can’t sing.
Contact Aldridge at [email protected]. Other Aldridge columns are archived at leonaldridge.
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