My mother was raised in the Church of England. (Her parents were Protestant Irish.) My father was raised as a Missouri Synod Lutheran, but after marrying, my parents joined the Evangelical Lutheran Church. The Missouri Synod people are so conservative, and are firmly convinced they are the only ones going to heaven. (Won't they be surprised?)
At any rate, some years ago, after I left home, my mother had a religious experience. God spoke to her, and she joined the Baptist Church - had herself dunked and all. My father, brother and two sisters followed her through the baptismal pool. My mother did not agree entirely with the Baptist teachings. She was still a believer in the Theory of Evolution for example, and thought the Adam and Eve creation story was just a metaphor. She says God led her to the Baptist Church, but didn't tell her to quit using the brains he'd given her. The Baptists embraced her and prayed for her, and with her, in spite of their disagreements.
A couple years after my mother's death, we were home visiting and ended up one Sunday evening at "Request Night" at Union Park Baptist. The idea was that anyone in the congregation could request that anyone else get up and perform for the glory of God. Requests were done in advance to allow for practice time. I think my father secretly hoped that someone would request his saxophone playing, but no one ever did.
I don't remember all the performers. Two little girls played the violin, with their mother accompanying them on the piano. Their performance ended rather suddenly when they discovered they had lost the last page of their sheet music. A teenage boy did a dramatic monologue about his relationship with God, shouting and posing all over the altar. At this point the younger members of the audience started to giggle. Next up was a trombone player. We were all trying to guess what tune he was playing when my husband leaned over and whispered, "It sounds like Tiny Bubbles to me". The younsters had to hide under the pews at that, trying to keep quiet, while the adults were biting their lips to stifle their laughter.
Then a middle-aged, recovering alchoholic, who had been "requested" by her AA sponser, got up to sing For the Beauty of the Earth. Her hands were shaking, and her voice had that raspy tone that voices get when too much alchohol has passed over the vocal cords. She could not carry a tune. Not even close. The kids were rolling on the floor by this time. I was able to keep a straight face by following the words in the hymnal. It really is a beautiful hymn, regardless of how it is sung. That woman had a lot to be thankful for, as do we all. And God surely has a sense of humor.
That was the last time they did "Request Night" at the Baptist Chuch. It's a shame. They could have sold tickets.
She sang:
For the beauty of the earth,
for the glory of the skies,
for the love which from our birth
over and around us lies;
Lord of all, to thee we raise
this our hymn of grateful praise.
For the beauty of each hour
of the day and of the night,
hill and vale, and tree and flower,
sun and moon, and stars of light;
Lord of all, to thee we raise
this our hymn of grateful praise.
For the joy of ear and eye,
for the heart and mind's delight,
for the mystic harmony,
linking sense to sound and sight;
Lord of all, to thee we raise
this our hymn of grateful praise.
For the joy of human love,
brother, sister, parent, child,
friends on earth and friends above,
for all gentle thoughts and mild;
Lord of all, to thee we raise
this our hymn of grateful praise.
Lyrics by: Folliot S. Pierpoint
He said:
Personal
In an envelope marked:
Personal
God addressed me a letter.
In an envelope marked:
Personal
I have given my answer.
Langston Hughes
