Where did they go? They used to live in the pocket on the back of the pews in the sanctuary. Now, there’s only pencils and envelopes to count your attendance. But, the hymn books? They are gone! Where are they?
I like hymnals and I miss them. I like the feel of the hymn book in my hands on Sunday morning as I sing praises to the Lord. I like sharing the hymnal with my neighbor, in case there aren’t enough to go around. I like the message the songs contain.
Years ago, I liked the feeling of being needed at the piano, hymnbook propped open, accompanying the worshippers. So what if the organist transposed the key without telling me? So what if I lost my place in the song and my accompaniment didn’t match the hymn? It was okay. Nobody’s perfect and mistakes make us more human, don’t they?
Hymnals provided a feeling of continuity. For generations, worshippers held song books in their hands, shared them with a neighbor, and sang a sermon set to music. Sometimes the hymnals, in years past, would be missing a back cover. The pages might be dog-eared, but that was because they were well-used.
Hymns are sermons set to music or prayers or Scripture. In a hymnal, I can see and read the notes as well as the words. I can see as well as hear the melody and harmony. So, wherever the hymnals went, they took these things with them. Where are they? It’s a mystery to me.
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