I don\u2019t mean to be, well, mean.\u00a0 But since I\u2019ve been a Catholic, I admit there are times when I miss the old Protestant, particularly the old time Evangelical, hymnals.\u00a0 It just seems like folks in our parish \u2013 in fact in just about every parish I\u2019ve visited so far \u2013\u00a0are scared to sing.\u00a0 Oh some do, and it\u2019s not a slight at those who don\u2019t.\u00a0 Perhaps it\u2019s because the music issue just has a single line for the main melody in each song.\u00a0 Protestant hymnals broke those babies into four parts, and you could take your pick.\u00a0 Even if the congregation wasn\u2019t trained \u2013\u00a0and God love them, you had those you could tell weren\u2019t \u2013 there was still that harmonizing that not only flushed out the depth of a hymn, but almost seemed to encourage a more robust vocalizing on the part of the singers.\u00a0 I\u2019m sure having a music leader in front of the congregation, which was common in all but the tiniest churches, didn\u2019t hurt either. <\/p>\n
Again, I\u2019m not fussing.\u00a0 I love various parts of Catholic music, the chant, the better parts of the traditionally rich and powerful hymns of yesteryear.\u00a0 And I certainly had things to say about the superficial and shallow trend that many newer songs in the Protestant world were following.\u00a0 But sometimes, I admit I would like to hear a good old four part singing of some of the greater hymns of Protestantism.\u00a0 You hear those, and you can\u2019t help but feel moved in the Spirit.\u00a0 Especially if it\u2019s one of the all-time greats like this gem, famously penned in the midst of tragedy and despair:
It Is Well With My Soul<\/b><\/p>\n
When peace like a river, attendeth my way,
When sorrows like sea billows roll;
Whatever my lot, Thou hast taught me to say,
It is well, it is well, with my soul.<\/p>\n
Refrain:<\/i>
It is well, with my soul,
It is well, with my soul,
It is well, it is well, with my soul.<\/p>\n
Though Satan should buffet, though trials should come,
Let this blest assurance control,
That Christ has regarded my helpless estate,
And hath shed His own blood for my soul.<\/p>\n
My sin, oh, the bliss of this glorious thought!
My sin, not in part but the whole,
Is nailed to the cross, and I bear it no more,
Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, O my soul!<\/p>\n
For me, be it Christ, be it Christ hence to live:
If Jordan above me shall roll,
No pang shall be mine, for in death as in life,
Thou wilt whisper Thy peace to my soul.<\/p>\n
But Lord, \u2019tis for Thee, for Thy coming we wait,
The sky, not the grave, is our goal;
Oh, trump of the angel! Oh, voice of the Lord!
Blessed hope, blessed rest of my soul.<\/p>\n
And Lord, haste the day when my faith shall be sight,
The clouds be rolled back as a scroll;
The trump shall resound, and the Lord shall descend,
Even so, it is well with my soul.
Horatio Spafford<\/i><\/p>\n<\/body><\/html>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
I don\u2019t mean to be, well, mean.\u00a0 But since I\u2019ve been a Catholic, I admit there are times when I miss the old Protestant, particularly the old time Evangelical, hymnals.\u00a0 It just seems like folks in our parish \u2013 in fact in just about every parish I\u2019ve visited so far \u2013\u00a0are scared to sing.\u00a0 Oh […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2805,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-3946","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"yoast_head":"\n