For the last year, my father, a retired Lutheran pastor, has been locked down in skilled nursing several states away. Early in the pandemic, we got him a Facebook Portal, and I'd have near daily visits with him. He has a rapid-onset dementia, and it's been increasingly difficult for him to form words.
A few months ago, he hummed a few notes--and I discerned the hymn "Beautiful Savior." I asked if he'd like to sing that, and he nodded his head. While he can't speak hardly at all, he can yet sing--and he sang like an angel. Now, a few times a week, I will sing a hymn with him. And while our relationship has been fractured and broken most of my life, singing with my dad, whose memory and speech are shot, has given me the grace to forgive him and see him as a child of God.
So. I wrote this piece on April 17, and until yesterday, the last comment on this thread was April 18. Yesterday, Jan 24, as I returned to my car after the committal service graveside for my father, one person had commented on this thread, and several more had liked it--notices about each of those were in my email when I checked it, minutes after that service. Wow, is all I have to say . . .
"Why Christian"...Durham NC...March 2018...the Eucharist on Sunday...and that cathedral full of people singing in simple beautiful harmony...and we *were* the Church and we *were* the Faithful and singing in the midst of that was transcendent. I would give much, so much, to experience that simple joy again.
An image I couldn’t have imagined an hour ago and now I can’t get out of my mind. Nadia Bolz-Weber and my mother sharing a hymnal and together, singing alto in that little Church of Christ that I grew up in. Thank you for the reminder that theology may divide but hymns always unite.
My dad died unexpectedly in September 2019, at the age of 84. He was a retired Lutheran Pastor. I was very close to my dad and losing him has been rough. Pre-covid, when we could still go to church in person, if we sang one of hymns from the old days - I sobbed uncontrollably. Christmas Eve Service 2019 - we of course sang the traditional Christmas hymns and I was ugly crying. But the reason I was crying is because I COULD HEAR MY DAD SINGING AS IF HE WERE SITTING IN THE PEW NEXT TO ME. It was very comforting but also made me wonder if I was going crazy - and maybe the congregation though I had gone crazy. Looking back now, I can see what a gift that was and I hope to hear him again when we can all gather safely together.
I still remember (one maundy Thursday probably about 50 years ago now, wow) hearing my dad's big basso-profundo voice booming out from behind a hidden alcove door sanctuary stage right with an acapella "Were you there". I still get goosebumps.
And now I'm listening to your Spotify playlist and singing along....the hymns of the church are deep in our souls and cut through all the crap and pain, may we not lose Jesus in the noise of the church today ....
As my mom was pulled off of life support, my dad, brother, sister, and I sang hymns to her as she passed. Not sure who the gift of song was for her or us. Thank you, Nadia. You are a gift.
I feel this deeply. I grew up Pentecostal but my mother insisted on me knowing regular hymns in addition to the Southern/country gospel that was part of our tradition. And now as a Catholic I’ve learned so many even older hymns. As my mother lay dying in hospice, my brother sang hymns to soothe her. I couldn’t .... I still don’t know why. But every time I open my mouth to cantor or as part of the choir, her voice comes out. I couldn’t be prouder. She instilled in me a love of music.
And I have missed singing as a group. We are going to have our first rehearsal (spread apart, outdoors) in over a year. I sing along each week with the live-streamed Mass. But my dog doesn’t seem to appreciate the alto harmonies I use...... 😜
I eagerly await the day we sing again — both in our individual parishes and congregations, and the Great Day to come.
"The music that we made from our bodies, the vibrations of song created and shared in communal expression is still ours." Yes, absolutely, I feel this too! It's a joy and comfort I still feel even now, almost fifteen years after giving up on church. I'm convinced that the draw of hymns will always be with me, and am so thankful to have a fumbling proficiency at the piano just barely sufficient to recreate an echo of statements of faith from times past.
My mom and I lived in different provinces. We used to sing on the phone together. Our favourite song was “ I sought the lord and afterward I knew. He moved my soul to seek him seeking me. It was not I …”
Nadia—I need to thank you for many things, but especially for this post and the playlist. My husband and I caregivers for my almost 101-year-old dad (who has lived with us for 20 years), so in addition to the pandemic, we are mostly housebound or playing tag-team, as we cannot leave him alone. We are 72, formerly avid hikers (currently not possible), and weary. But we still look for ways to make Dad’s life better. Today your playlist did just that. Decades ago, he conducted a very small church choir at a tiny country church. I have your playlist on for him, and he is content. Thank you. ❤️
I so appreciate your openness to what prayer and faith can look like. In 2014 when I was 22 I suffered severe memory loss because of a weird rare illness. I couldn't remember the name of my best friend or what my degree was for but I remembered all the words to the Rich Mullins songs my mother always had playing in the car growing up. Having those songs and messages were such a comforting clarity while I was so confused. I know I understood that as prayer at the time and i like to think you would get that.
So beautiful. Thank you. At my mom's assisted living I used to help gather the people for Sunday morning service. Every week I would go to Janet's door and ask if she would play piano for us. Every week she would be delighted and never remember being asked the week before. We would ride down in the elevator and every week she would tell me about being a retired music teacher and about her father and grandfather who were pastor's. She would sit down at the piano and play every request without hesitation, never missing a word or a note.By the time I took her back to her room she would not remember where we had just been. The next Sunday was a brand new gift. My mom and Janet are both gone now but I cherish those Sundays spent with them.
I may be a heretic, however, I believe music, belief music is felt more deeply and influences us more than Scripture. If it's set to music, I can remember it but I can't memorize much Scripture.
I wish I knew how to "work" spotify or other apps. I've lost much feeling and strength in my hands, I miss playing the piano and the guitar *so* much. Even on crutches, I'd have my guitar case in my right hand holding my crutch and my bag of music and my bible in the other hand on the crutch, going to two or three bible studies each week. I was bodily immersed in hymns, 'praise music", all of it except classical, self taught so no classical.
Oh, how I love Jesus, oh, how I love Jesus, oh how I love Jesus, because He first loved me.
Oh, my Lord, I love this, Nadia. Raised by a Minister of Music in the LCA, both my parents were St. Olaf grads and met in the choir. Singing hymns is church to me. I love the organ. I love the trumpets at Easter, but most of all I love the time singing together when we are transported, clearly attached to the Spirit and each other.
During Covid, I was convinced that singing alone at home was necessary. Didn't replace congregational, but singing was essential, that somehow it changes the world. So I began in March 2020 sending emails with a reflection, sometimes a quote (NBW and RHE and Etty and etc.) and a song or hymn with lyrics, encouraging singing at home. Now, a year+ later, there are over a hundred such emails, taking us through John Lewis and RBG, Breonna, George and elections, anger, sadness, abandonment and hope. The cruising through music has saved me. Some who get the emails agree. Some have asked me to consolidate and publish it. They are not that eloquent, just stream of consciousness prayer journals with music.
But mostly hymns. Hymns that upheld and saved me and others, even without community in body, community in spirit. Thanks for reminding me this is no small thing.
For the last year, my father, a retired Lutheran pastor, has been locked down in skilled nursing several states away. Early in the pandemic, we got him a Facebook Portal, and I'd have near daily visits with him. He has a rapid-onset dementia, and it's been increasingly difficult for him to form words.
A few months ago, he hummed a few notes--and I discerned the hymn "Beautiful Savior." I asked if he'd like to sing that, and he nodded his head. While he can't speak hardly at all, he can yet sing--and he sang like an angel. Now, a few times a week, I will sing a hymn with him. And while our relationship has been fractured and broken most of my life, singing with my dad, whose memory and speech are shot, has given me the grace to forgive him and see him as a child of God.
So. I wrote this piece on April 17, and until yesterday, the last comment on this thread was April 18. Yesterday, Jan 24, as I returned to my car after the committal service graveside for my father, one person had commented on this thread, and several more had liked it--notices about each of those were in my email when I checked it, minutes after that service. Wow, is all I have to say . . .
That is one of those hymns I can NOT sing without crying.
Me, too. It was one of my mother’s favorite hymns.
Such power in singing Beautiful Savior.
"Why Christian"...Durham NC...March 2018...the Eucharist on Sunday...and that cathedral full of people singing in simple beautiful harmony...and we *were* the Church and we *were* the Faithful and singing in the midst of that was transcendent. I would give much, so much, to experience that simple joy again.
I hold that memory idea as well. Look how beautiful the church can be.
*dear* I hold it dear.
I remember.
An image I couldn’t have imagined an hour ago and now I can’t get out of my mind. Nadia Bolz-Weber and my mother sharing a hymnal and together, singing alto in that little Church of Christ that I grew up in. Thank you for the reminder that theology may divide but hymns always unite.
My dad died unexpectedly in September 2019, at the age of 84. He was a retired Lutheran Pastor. I was very close to my dad and losing him has been rough. Pre-covid, when we could still go to church in person, if we sang one of hymns from the old days - I sobbed uncontrollably. Christmas Eve Service 2019 - we of course sang the traditional Christmas hymns and I was ugly crying. But the reason I was crying is because I COULD HEAR MY DAD SINGING AS IF HE WERE SITTING IN THE PEW NEXT TO ME. It was very comforting but also made me wonder if I was going crazy - and maybe the congregation though I had gone crazy. Looking back now, I can see what a gift that was and I hope to hear him again when we can all gather safely together.
beautiful.
I still remember (one maundy Thursday probably about 50 years ago now, wow) hearing my dad's big basso-profundo voice booming out from behind a hidden alcove door sanctuary stage right with an acapella "Were you there". I still get goosebumps.
And now I'm listening to your Spotify playlist and singing along....the hymns of the church are deep in our souls and cut through all the crap and pain, may we not lose Jesus in the noise of the church today ....
This brings back memories of singing hymns to my grandmother and mother as they lay dying. I hope it brought them peace.
As my mom was pulled off of life support, my dad, brother, sister, and I sang hymns to her as she passed. Not sure who the gift of song was for her or us. Thank you, Nadia. You are a gift.
I feel this deeply. I grew up Pentecostal but my mother insisted on me knowing regular hymns in addition to the Southern/country gospel that was part of our tradition. And now as a Catholic I’ve learned so many even older hymns. As my mother lay dying in hospice, my brother sang hymns to soothe her. I couldn’t .... I still don’t know why. But every time I open my mouth to cantor or as part of the choir, her voice comes out. I couldn’t be prouder. She instilled in me a love of music.
And I have missed singing as a group. We are going to have our first rehearsal (spread apart, outdoors) in over a year. I sing along each week with the live-streamed Mass. But my dog doesn’t seem to appreciate the alto harmonies I use...... 😜
I eagerly await the day we sing again — both in our individual parishes and congregations, and the Great Day to come.
"The music that we made from our bodies, the vibrations of song created and shared in communal expression is still ours." Yes, absolutely, I feel this too! It's a joy and comfort I still feel even now, almost fifteen years after giving up on church. I'm convinced that the draw of hymns will always be with me, and am so thankful to have a fumbling proficiency at the piano just barely sufficient to recreate an echo of statements of faith from times past.
My mom and I lived in different provinces. We used to sing on the phone together. Our favourite song was “ I sought the lord and afterward I knew. He moved my soul to seek him seeking me. It was not I …”
Nadia—I need to thank you for many things, but especially for this post and the playlist. My husband and I caregivers for my almost 101-year-old dad (who has lived with us for 20 years), so in addition to the pandemic, we are mostly housebound or playing tag-team, as we cannot leave him alone. We are 72, formerly avid hikers (currently not possible), and weary. But we still look for ways to make Dad’s life better. Today your playlist did just that. Decades ago, he conducted a very small church choir at a tiny country church. I have your playlist on for him, and he is content. Thank you. ❤️
I so appreciate your openness to what prayer and faith can look like. In 2014 when I was 22 I suffered severe memory loss because of a weird rare illness. I couldn't remember the name of my best friend or what my degree was for but I remembered all the words to the Rich Mullins songs my mother always had playing in the car growing up. Having those songs and messages were such a comforting clarity while I was so confused. I know I understood that as prayer at the time and i like to think you would get that.
So beautiful. Thank you. At my mom's assisted living I used to help gather the people for Sunday morning service. Every week I would go to Janet's door and ask if she would play piano for us. Every week she would be delighted and never remember being asked the week before. We would ride down in the elevator and every week she would tell me about being a retired music teacher and about her father and grandfather who were pastor's. She would sit down at the piano and play every request without hesitation, never missing a word or a note.By the time I took her back to her room she would not remember where we had just been. The next Sunday was a brand new gift. My mom and Janet are both gone now but I cherish those Sundays spent with them.
I may be a heretic, however, I believe music, belief music is felt more deeply and influences us more than Scripture. If it's set to music, I can remember it but I can't memorize much Scripture.
I wish I knew how to "work" spotify or other apps. I've lost much feeling and strength in my hands, I miss playing the piano and the guitar *so* much. Even on crutches, I'd have my guitar case in my right hand holding my crutch and my bag of music and my bible in the other hand on the crutch, going to two or three bible studies each week. I was bodily immersed in hymns, 'praise music", all of it except classical, self taught so no classical.
Oh, how I love Jesus, oh, how I love Jesus, oh how I love Jesus, because He first loved me.
We heretics, if that what we be, are in terrific company.
Oh, my Lord, I love this, Nadia. Raised by a Minister of Music in the LCA, both my parents were St. Olaf grads and met in the choir. Singing hymns is church to me. I love the organ. I love the trumpets at Easter, but most of all I love the time singing together when we are transported, clearly attached to the Spirit and each other.
During Covid, I was convinced that singing alone at home was necessary. Didn't replace congregational, but singing was essential, that somehow it changes the world. So I began in March 2020 sending emails with a reflection, sometimes a quote (NBW and RHE and Etty and etc.) and a song or hymn with lyrics, encouraging singing at home. Now, a year+ later, there are over a hundred such emails, taking us through John Lewis and RBG, Breonna, George and elections, anger, sadness, abandonment and hope. The cruising through music has saved me. Some who get the emails agree. Some have asked me to consolidate and publish it. They are not that eloquent, just stream of consciousness prayer journals with music.
But mostly hymns. Hymns that upheld and saved me and others, even without community in body, community in spirit. Thanks for reminding me this is no small thing.