Turn In Your Hymnals...

A few Sundays back, the church we attend departed from the Chris Tomlin catalog and actually sang a hymn.  I found myself filled with nostalgia and a trace of regret.  It occurred to me that my children would not follow in my liturgical footsteps.  They would not know the first, second and fourth verses of 700 plus songs.  The hymns are rich with colorful language that you don't hear every day.  And I love them, to this day, so please don't be offended when I mention them here in an unconventional way.  Its just that sometimes the intended message woven in such heady vocabulary can get lost in the tender mind of a child.

Wouldn't you know it, the messages scrambled early for me.  Let's take a stroll down memory lane, shall we?  Remember the old Sunday School favorite that went like this, "He invites us into His banquet table, His banner over us is love"?  Loved that one.  Belted it to the rafters.  I was probably well into the third grade before I realized I wasn't being invited into His "baked potato."  It never dawned on me to question why we needed to enter a spud; I had the faith of a child.  Or perhaps I was overly preoccupied with anticipation of  the post-service potluck.

In any case, I know I was not alone in my confusion.  A friend recently told me how she came to be baptized.  Her beloved pastor was named Art.  It was years before she realized "How Great Thou Art" was not a tip of the hat to him.

Some songs could be downright frightening, if we're being truthful.  Take for instance this gem: "Watching you, watching you; there's an all-seeing eye watching you."  Just the one?  Try going to sleep on a Sunday night with a picture of a Holy Cyclops lurking in your head and see how easy it is.

Another one that threw me for a loop went something like this: "There's a stranger at the door..." Wait for it..."Let him in!"  Your mom and dad sang this directive in different octaves.  This flew in the face of everything being taught at school about stranger danger.  And to make it worse, "He has been there oft before."  What?!  Now I have a stalker??  Is this still the Holy Cyclops or someone else?  Geeze, its a wonder I slept at all.

There was one that stood out among the rest though, avid reader that I was.  I was completely unfamiliar with many of the words but to my young ears it bore a strong resemblance to every Edgar Allen Poe story I had ever heard.  "Night with eb'en pinion, brooded o'er the vale, all around was silence, save the night wind's wale."  Gulp.  I would inevitably glance over my shoulder fully expecting the Headless Horseman to come galloping up the red-carpeted center aisle.

Of course if you don't take the time to deliver your words effectively, anything can be misconstrued.  When we chose to homeschool the twins in second grade, I began to worry about Luke's spiritual future.  He seemed to be developing a strange fixation with sin-ridden cities at such a young age.  One of the first things we chose to tackle was learning the books of the bible.  Contrary to what most of us learned as the Pentateuch, my son instead, acknowledged the following five books of Moses: Genesis, Exodus, Las Vegas, Numbers, and Deuteronomy.  No, it is not lost on me that Las Vegas and Numbers are right next to each other.  I'm just well aware that Deuteronomy and Gin Rummy sound alike and so I am grateful things didn't turn out worse.  It was when we began working on The Lord's Prayer that my eyebrows truly raised in concern.  On recitation day, he looked me square in the eye and stated, " Our Father who art in heaven, Hollywood be thy name."

The moral of the story is this: some people shouldn't homeschool.  I'm kidding.  Kind of.  The lesson here is, be aware of how impressionable young minds can be.  And for crying out loud, ANNUNCIATE.