fusing faith and family

Our lives are shaped by our parents’ and grandparents’ understanding of faith. We either grow up running toward or fighting against their version of what it means to love and serve God. My husband, Bryce, grew up in a family where faith expressed through music was important. It had a deep impact on who he has become. As he shares some of that deep history with us in this post, let’s search out and identify the traditions within our own families that have had the greatest impact.

One of the saddest days my grandmother ever had was the day she stopped playing piano in church. After 70 years of leading congregations in worship by playing classic hymns she gave it up. Why? Someone in the congregation called out a hymn number and since her hearing had grown so bad she misheard it. She led the congregation in the wrong song. Obviously musical disaster ensued and my grandmother was embarrassed. Enough so that she never played the piano publicly again. 

When she confessed why she stopped playing to me one day, she just shook her head and picked at her nails like she did when she was stressed or worrying. Music was such a huge part of her life for many, many years and she was sorry to give up serving her church in this way. 

Bryce’s Grandma and Grandpa

She truly loved music in many different styles.  Grandma and I would talk about music back in depression times. She said, “Well, you’d go to the square dance on Friday night, then revival meeting on Saturday night. The music was always real good at both!” Grandma and I shared a deep respect for the hymns of our Christian faith. We would talk about the hymns and their lyrical depth. How the poetry and deep theology came together in some of the songs. 

One of those classic songs I’ve recently rediscovered is O How I Love Jesus. I have to confess, I thought this was a children’s song because I grew up singing the chorus as a child in Sunday School. The melody is fairly sing-song and I didn’t think much of it. Then I read the verses and completely changed my opinion of the song. I recently refreshed some of the lyrics and reordered them in a more modern format. Turns out the melody is fantastic when you speed it up a bit and put some rockin’ guitar behind it. Check out this particularly poetic verse:

It tells me of a Father’s smile beaming upon His child; It bears me through all the while, through desert, waste, and wild.

It tells me what my Father has in store for every day, And though I tread a darksome path, yields sunshine on my way.

These are images most of us can understand. We’ve seen fathers beam at their children. I’ve sure looked at my own kids like that! If any of you have spent significant time in deserts or wild areas you know how stark and lonely they can be. And “darksome path” is the one phrase I couldn’t bear to update. Of course no one says, “darksome” right now, but that is what makes it so powerful! A darksome path? We live in the country and on a dark rural night with no moon… that is a darksome path! With images this strong, and with a great paternal reference, I’ll be leading our congregation in singing this song on Father’s Day. 

And what about this verse talking about the name of Jesus:

It tells of One whose loving heart can feel my deepest woe; Who in each sorrow bears a part that none can bear below.

This Name shall shed its fragrance still along this thorny road, Shall sweetly smooth the rugged hill that leads me up to God.

The image of Jesus not only feeling our deepest hidden pain, but also bearing part of it for us is so strong. And imagine Jesus’ name leaving its fragrance like perfume along a thorny road… wow. Just wow. 

It’s these powerful images that keep me going back to the hymns and one of the ways I connected with my grandmother. She had a simple yet deep faith. She read her bible faithfully, and even though she didn’t play piano publicly towards the end of her life she would play those hymns in the living room of our farm house regularly. They spoke to her, and to us, in powerful ways. 

After years of living with my grandmother, I found out that my grandfather was also a musician. I knew him as plumber and sunday school teacher who would spend the week in green Dickie’s work clothes but come Sunday morning he would put on his one good suit, make sure his shoes were shined, and come down the steps looking dapper to go teach at a small Methodist church in our town. Turns out my grandfather also played fiddle. I never heard him play which would lead me to believe maybe he just wasn’t all that good at it! But I’ve kept his old cat gut strung fiddle to remind me daily of the legacy that my grandparents left me through music. 

The Cat Gut Strung Fiddle

As someone who is blessed to be able to lead others in worshipping God on a regular basis, I think of my grandparents and their legacy of faith and worship regularly. Every time we sing When The Roll Is Called Up Yonder I introduce it as my grandfather’s favorite song. And every Sunday when I stand in front of our congregation to help them sing their theology and praise our creator we’ll go back to these hymns and the way they poetically lead us to God, just like grandma did for over 70 years. And that is a tradition I’m honored to get to carry on.

When our faith and our family traditions fuse together, it is a beautiful thing. Let’s carry on the traditions that matter and never lose the beauty that our families have given us.  

Searching for wisdom and asking for grace,

Jody