If you grew up Mennonite, you already have an understanding of what this blog is about. If you did't, then most likely you are wondering what sort of code these numbers represent. Let me explain with a story. Last month, we were thrilled to entertain weekend visitors from Indiana: Larry's youngest sister, Kris, Ken, Kami, Kaci, and Kaci's friend. We ate, laughed, hiked, and enjoyed being family together. 

We were gathered around the table on the deck, playing a card game, called Liverpool Rummy. Somehow, the numbers 606 came up in the course of conversation. There was a silent pause for several seconds, and then Ken, Kris, Kari, Larry, and I broke out in four part harmony. We sang the entire Mennonite anthem, Praise God From Whom All Blessings Flow, which happens to be song number 606 in the old Mennonite Hymnal. I wish you could have seen Chris and Tiffany's incredulous faces!

All Mennonites, past and present, can sing this anthem at the drop of a hat (pardon the pun). In case you are wondering what this song sounds like, here is a random spontaneous rendition that I pulled from youtube.

A cappella singing, in beautiful four part harmony, is part of the heritage of my youth. I feel certain that the angels in heaven sound like a blending of a Mennonite choir and Andrea Bocelli. The strict church of my childhood prohibited any type of musical instruments, in corporate worship as well as private use. I never figured out how they spiritualized the use of various musical instruments in the Psalms, but being a good rule keeper, I did as I was told. We even disconnected the radios in our cars, to remove the temptation of listening to secular songs. You know how everyone remembers and identifies with the songs that were popular in their teens? People think that I am joking when I tell them that for me, that would be hymns. 

Sacred vocal music was one of the few acceptable artistic expressions not considered worldly. And so everyone sang, and learned four part harmony. In my tiny corner of the world, in my little church, in dot-on-the-map Hartville, Ohio, there happened to be an abundance of raw, natural musical talent, even by Mennonite standards. There was a strong sense of pride about our music, like we were the gold standard. It set the bar impossibly high for an average singer, like myself. However, I took pride in my heartfelt, sincere facial expressions when I sang. I do appreciate excellence, but it is a tricky thing with worship music; does the most perfect harmony bring God the most praise?

Of course singing was an integral part of our small Mennonite school. There were not enough students in each grade for a whole classroom, so two grades would be combined: freshmans and sophomores, and juniors and seniors. My brother Lowell is one year older than me, so every other year, we would be in the same classroom. In our junior/senior year, our music teacher required each of us to get up in front of the class and sing a solo. For some in the group, it was the easiest assignment of the week. Lowell and I, both average musicians and definitely not soloists, started hyperventilating at the thought of standing up front alone and hearing our solo voices quavering, searching for the notes. We came up with a splendid plan: we would get up together and sing the song from The Sound of Music, "I am Sixteen Going on Seventeen". Apropos since those were our actual ages. We figured students would laugh at the lyrics and not notice our singing as much. I would give a small fortune to see a video of that performance! In case you've forgotten, here are the lyrics:

The tracks were embedded in my formative years and I still love hymns. Rich, full harmonies warm my soul. Larry and I have found ourselves in many different settings and we have tried to focus on the wine rather than the wineskins. I appreciate contemporary Christian songs, but what is most worshipful to me is It Is Well, and Holy Holy Holy, and How Great Thou Art. I still can sing nearly all the verses from memory. I am grateful for the impact that many of those hymns have had on my life. 

When our oldest son, Chris, was a child, he sang for a few years in a local boys choir; he loved the music theory more than the actual performing. In high school, both Lauren and Derek chose to be part of a large, musical group; from the time the school year began, they would meet to prepare for a Christmas Program at McCallie School, called Candlelight. The Director chose challenging music and expected the students to meet his high standards. It was a huge time commitment and we were proud of our kids for choosing to sing in Candlelight.

The December evening of the performance, Larry and I sat in the darkened school chapel, along with the rest of the audience, and listened to this high school choir sing the most beautiful Christmas carols. Larry and I were blown away that we had children who chose to be a part of something that was eerily similar to the a cappella harmonies of our own youth. When the group sang "Heilig, Heilig, Heilig", (a german version of Holy Holy Holy), we sat with our hands entwined and tears in our eyes and full hearts; this was one of the hymns sung at our wedding. It felt like fractured parts of our lives were finding harmony.