“We worship that big building down there.”

‘The Tabernacle’ lay nestled along the New York village hillside.

Ann and I entered and took up a little red songbook. Music was underway. My thoughts drifted - Back to Oklahoma and my childhood place of worship.

The faded blue hymnals had lain underneath the baby-grand up front, heaped in two stacks.

Their pages were left unopened most of the year, melodies resting muted inside the hardbound covers like eager choir members, mouths duct-taped shut.

Through my growing up years we followed an informal ritual.

On a random Sunday morning twice or so a year, out the faded books would come. A film of dust crowned the topmost volumes.

Shortly, the piano sounded the notes of “In the Garden” or “Rock of Ages” or “I’ll Fly Away.”

Sometimes a piece or two penned by a sightless composer, Fanny Crosby.

In those days of the 1950’s the songbooks held a sweet sentimental hold.

By then the church’s older members had gotten nearly weaned from the hymns of the church.

Music in the old blue books seemed lacking in the revivalist flavor preferred by a recent strain of Pentecostalism.

Lively choruses, penned in the days of a revival movement, replaced old hymnbooks and their vintage lyrics.

I had grown fond of a musical heritage marked by informal choruses, finding myself at times, along with others, immersed in joyful praise.

Still as years moved on, an undefined “something” – to do with lyric and melody – seemed missing. Like an absent-without-leave expression specially-tailored for God-seekers.

I now sensed a curious homesickness here in The Tabernacle for ancient melodies and lyrics I had not yet learned.

My soul was being captured by the little red book, with its simple title, “Redemption Songs.”

It featured enduring pieces of the Methodist tradition. Penned by a gifted composer, Charles Wesley.

“If a person had no access to the Bible through all his lifetime but owned the collection of Wesley’s hymns, he would find in them salvation’s offer, the way of living fully in Christ and the eternal hope of heaven.” - Geoffrey Hawksley, Assemblies missionary, Congo Africa.

NOTE: Speaker-Writer Jerry Lout grew up in Okmulgee County. A graduate of Preston High School, he completed media training at OSUIT in Okmulgee prior to his San Antonio college years. He and his wife served 20 years as missionaries in Africa, afterwards directing a Tulsa University campus ministry. Twice visited by polio, Jerry authored “Living With A Limp.” His “Giants in the Rough” memoir highlights the Africa years. Both works are available on Amazon.com and his website, www.jerrylout.com,features his blog entries. Jerry welcomes inquiries and comments via email at: jerrylout@gmail.com.

©2019 Jerry Lout