On the way home from my aunt's funeral Thursday, my sister and I got to talking about the old hymns we used to sing at church.
Maxine quoted a friend of hers who said, "These days, they only sing 7/11 songs at church: Seven words, repeated eleven times."
My sister and I were raised in the Church of Christ, and I just assumed they still sang the old hymns; Maxine said no, they don't sing a lot of those.
"You know," I said, "back in the old days, the preacher might preach a boring sermon, but every song we sang preached a sermon all by itself."
And I began to sing, "My hope is built on nothing less than Jesus' blood and righteousness. I dare not trust the sweetest frame, but wholly lean on Jesus' name. On Christ the solid rock I stand, all other ground is sinking sand, All other ground is sinking sand."
My sister joined in and sang along. Cliff just kept driving.
I do know of one little tiny, local church where they sing the old hymns, and sing them with gusto. We visited there a few weeks ago, and would have gone back today, had Cliff not been coughing his head off with a cold. I have a deep hunger for those old songs. It may not be next week or the next, but I know we will be visiting Napoleon United Methodist Church again before too long.
I need those songs.