I heard some good stories from my students this week about their various experiences with the minute of silence on Remembrance Day. Most were pretty funny, involving things that, shall we say, broke the silence. While the stories were accompanied with giggles, they all seemed to know that this moment of reflection was important and that disturbing it, while funny, wasn’t exactly how things should have gone. These stories and reactions are one of the many reasons I like working with children. They see the world with a clarity that is both entertaining and humbling. The songs that have been written for children often do the same.

This song was suggested to me by a friend whose young son was rocking out to it at the time when I asked for hymn suggestions. She also forwarded me a video of the Bruce Springsteen version. I’m pretty sure I haven’t adequately rocked out anything with my version, but working on this was a good reminder of how some songs with such sheer simplicity can catch the attention of a wide range of us – the young, the old, the rockers and the piano players. Music is funny that way. No matter how we try to define, categorize, analyse and understand it, sometimes we just like a tune. And sometimes the words make us think beyond what they were intended for.

This one has an interesting story. There is a sense that it is an old Negro Spiritual, and it does have ties with the Civil Rights Movement in the 1950s and 1960s, but it was originally written as a children’s gospel song by Harry Dixon Loes around 1920. In the late 1930s, John Lomax, a musicologist and folklorist, included it in a collection of American folk songs. Used by activist Zilphia Horton (who also helped transform “We Shall Overcome” into a civil rights anthem) as one of the many hymns that were claimed as songs to forward the movement, it has long been sung by activists to represent the idea of shining brightly for what is right. For refusing to diminish until the task is complete.

This little light of mine, I’m gonna let it shine.
This little light of mine, I’m gonna let it shine.
This little light of mine, I’m gonna let it shine.
Let it shine, let it shine, let it shine.

There are several versions of this song, a few variations on the tune and some additional verses. Most are very simple. The version I remember as a child, had a verse that provided a list of daily gifts; ideas to help us through each day.

Monday gave me the gift of love,
Tuesday peace came from above,
Wednesday told me to have more faith,
Thursday gave me a little more grace,
Friday told me to watch and pray,
Saturday told me just what to say,
Sunday gave me the power divine just to let my little light shine.

Challenges abound in our lives. Big ones – like working for the ideals of peace, equality and justice. Small ones – like honouring a silence when we’re trying not to giggle! I’m thankful for the many children I meet each week who are so vibrant. Who provide both entertainment and insight in many ways.   They remind me that even the smallest light can brighten our sometimes gloomy world. So, take the cue and let it shine!

Several weeks ago, I found myself with a free afternoon as most of my piano students had cancelled their lessons. This is not something that happens very often, and it wasn’t a gift of free time. There was a shooting at Canada’s War Memorial and children were stuck in locked down schools or with no bus service to get to my home studio. One young boy did come for his lesson that evening and asked for the door to be locked, just in case the bad guy with the gun was still around. It was a really sad day.

I spent that time working on this hymn. I give it to you today because it is Remembrance Day this week. In the Mennonite Church we recognize this Sunday as Peace Sunday. I think we all abhor violence. I think we all long for peace. Events like this make me wonder if it will ever be achieved. Events like this remind me that I am incredibly fortunate to live in a place where this single act is a rarity. There are many places in the world where this would be a common occurrence. The location of the shooting at our War Memorial reminds me of the many wars throughout history and those that rage now. So many complicated thoughts emerge; difficult emotions, reactions and prayers.

A friend of mine mentioned that this was a favourite and meaningful hymn. In thinking about war, violence and peace, I was struck by these words.

There’s a wideness in God’s mercy,
Like the wideness of the sea;
There’s a kindness in His justice,
Which is more than liberty.

We certainly all need mercy. To be recipients of mercy that is as wide as the sea is almost too great a gift to contemplate. Are we able to be that compassionate in return? We all have a role in shaping the world we live in. When we demand justice are we capable of doing it in kindness? I’m not sure I often think in those terms. I am also impressed by the idea that justice isn’t merely about liberty. We hear a lot about fighting for freedom and ensuring that all are free. Admirable sentiments, but justice is more than that. Justice is complicated when freedom for one means chains for another.

But we make God’s love too narrow
By false limits of our own;
And we magnify its strictness
With a zeal God will not own.

As in many hymn texts, the writer of these words (Frederick Faber, 1814-1863) directs us to the immensity of God. It is our humanness that makes God small; that tries to claim definitions of justice, mercy – rules and regulations. The impact on our world, as a result, has been great. Many acts of violence and discrimination have been done in the name of a small, humanly constructed God. When we consider peace and justice, it is my hope that we do so from the perspective of the wideness of God’s mercy and love, not the limits of our own understanding. The mercy is for us all. Because we all need it.

We have arrived at one of the most frequently requested hymns on my list for this year.   I don’t suppose that the reason for this is a great mystery – it is a hymn so familiar, with words that bring real comfort and assurance. Written in 1923 by Thomas O. Chisholm, it tells of God’s faithfulness throughout a lifetime. These are words that speak to the magnitude of the Divine. I love that it unapologetically requires me to consider something greater than myself.

Summer and winter and springtime and harvest,
Sun, moon, and stars in their courses above;
Join with all nature in manifold witness,
To Thy great faithfulness, mercy, and love.

There were quite a few stories and comments accompanying the requests for this one. A number of people mentioned that this had been sung at a funeral of someone close to them. Some shared that certain words brought tears. Some felt it provided a glimpse into the character of God. It definitely carries with it meaning and memories that are evoked whenever it is sung or heard.

It happens to be Mennonite Heritage Sunday this week and I thought it would be appropriate to ponder something that reminded me of where I come from.   Something that brings up memories of lives lived under the canopy of this great faithfulness. While not a Mennonite hymn per se, this is one of my father’s favourites, and one he also put on my list. Now, I should share that I come from a long line of hymn lovers.   Both my father and his father before him, were musicians who actively participated in church music and were involved in compiling hymns for several new hymn books. In fact, my grandfather was also a collector of hymn books – probably in the neighbourhood of 600! My husband’s fondest memory of him is being shown his tiny closet of a computer room where for the last five years of his life he entered more than 13,000 song titles and melodies into a data base as a record of all these hymns of faith that he obviously cared for deeply. Music is a gift I was given by those who came before me. It has been, and will always be, my inheritance.

All I have needed Thy hand hath provided.

As I’ve worked on this hymn, I have thought about this gift of music . It came to me through the family I was born into, through the church I was raised in. These hymns may mean something different to me than they did to my grandfather, but they provide a solid foundation on which I stand. These songs were valued. Deeply. The music, the words, the assurance, the comfort. Memories. Heritage.

Strength for today, and bright hope for tomorrow,
Blessings all mine, with ten thousand beside.

Thanksgiving. A time to be thankful, to celebrate the harvest, to share with family and friends. A celebration of thanks is done in many, if not all, cultures at different times of the year. It is one of the few festivals that can be claimed by pretty much all of the religious groups I can think of – it is no one’s exclusive ritual or creation.   What strikes me about the act of giving thanks is that, despite our tendency to do so by making lists of what we have, we often need to do it much more when we have very little, be it materially, physically or spiritually. There is something strangely healing about giving thanks. It seems to provide a path to peace in turbulent times and somehow allows for a breath in the midst of a struggle.

This hymn was suggested by several people, but none in English! Not surprising, as it is an old German hymn written by Martin Rinkart in the mid 1630s. Rinkart was a Lutheran minister in Saxony who sheltered victims of disease and famine at the beginning of the Thirty Years’ War. It is said that around the time he wrote this, as the only surviving minister in his city, he was performing up to 50 funerals a day. It is quite beyond me to imagine how these words could have sprung out of that kind of horror, but here again I am struck by the mystery of human strength and the power of faith.

Now thank we all our God, with heart and hands and voices,
Who wondrous things has done, in whom this world rejoices;
Who from our mothers’ arms has blessed us on our way
With countless gifts of love, and still is ours today.

O may this bounteous God through all our life be near us,
With ever joyful hearts and blessed peace to cheer us;
And keep us in His grace, and guide us when perplexed;
And free us from all ills, in this world and the next!

The tune is attributed to Johann Crüger (1647) and was used by Bach in a number of his cantatas. It is a beautiful melody with very familiar harmonies thanks to Mendelssohn and I must admit to some personal trepidation making changes! However, it was also inspiring to think that for almost 400 years this hymn has provided a reminder to be thankful even when perplexed. To be cheered even when in the midst of this world’s ills.

Thankfulness is a bit of a mystery. It can serve to remind us of all we have. It can focus us on potential and opportunity. It can open our eyes to the smallest thing that carries us through whatever storm we find ourselves weathering.   I wasn’t quite sure if I should include in this Thanksgiving entry a list of what I’m thankful for. When I read the words of today’s hymn, I feel a sense of thankfulness much deeper than something that can be listed. For those who have come before, for those I know now and for those yet to experience this beautiful, flawed world.

I love the autumn. The crisp weather, the sunshine through the changing leaves, the magnificent colours I am privileged to see in the eastern Ontario landscape. It is a time when many of my favourite activities get started and yet we also celebrate the end of summer, harvest and are thankful. As we prepare for Thanksgiving next week, this hymn of praise seemed appropriate. It was suggested to me by two friends who shared that it was sung at their wedding. They both expressed that it had been meaningful before this event, but became even more so after.

This is a song of adoration. The words were originally written by Joachim Neander in German in 1680, and translated into English in 1863 by Catherine Winkworth. I am often struck by how some of these hymns span hundreds of years and can still provide meaning and inspiration to us. My favourite bits are in the second and last verses. Verse two speaks of how God “shelters thee under his wings, yea, so gently sustaineth.” What an image. I can understand why someone would choose this to mark the beginning of a marriage. It is both celebratory and filled with the promise of care.

The final verse has a statement that, I must admit, chokes me up every time I find myself singing it with others.

Let the “amen” sound from God’s people again.

There is something very powerful about voices joining together in an “amen” – something sort of primal. The word is a declaration of affirmation. It comes up in Greek, Hebrew, Arabic and English – with variations in many other languages and is used in all sorts of religious practices. It sort of means we agree. Maybe it’s a bit naive to think we actually agree on much – and as we look around the world it seems we really, really don’t. But there is something spirit building about being in a space with people and choosing to say “amen” despite our differences. Choosing to look for ways to work together seeking something better; encouraging positive change, acceptance, peace and kindness. Idealistic I know, but when I sing this hymn it reminds me of that possibility on a very basic emotional level.

However you choose to say amen, and with whatever group you choose to do so, I hope this can be a reminder of how important it is to find a community with which to share your celebrations, your adorations and your songs.

Three weeks into my year long project and I’m already deviating from my original list, although I suppose I am entitled to contribute a hymn or two! This is an old (1868) Sunday school song that I hadn’t thought of in years – maybe not since I was a child. Two weeks ago, when scheduled to play a prelude at church, I was looking for something that reflected the theme of ‘light’ that was planned for the service. After flipping through a couple of hymnbooks, this little gem popped up. Both the words and the tune are quite simple.

It’s an easy concept for children. Perhaps a more difficult one for adults laden with the implications of language and ideas that can be understood differently depending on one’s experience of the world. I will choose a simple interpretation. While all is not right with the world, we do have the opportunity to bring to it something pure and clear.

Thinking about these simple words and the idea that we can choose to brighten our world in many ways, also reminded me of the words of Martin Luther King.   I think I may have used this quote in my high school yearbook, and if I could recall where it was I would check! He said, “Hatred paralyzes life; love releases it. Hatred confuses life; love harmonizes it. Hatred darkens life; love illuminates it.”

From my small corner, I give you this song.

I suppose I should have started this year of song by defining what a hymn is. The word hymn comes from the Greek word hymnos which means a song of praise. This is a fairly common definition, but many also add that a hymn is a song of joy, thanksgiving, adoration and prayer. While most of us probably associate hymns with the Christian church, it would be difficult for one religious group to claim them entirely. The ancient Egyptians had hymns, as did the ancient Greeks (the Homeric Hymns), the Hindu tradition (the Vedas) and of course, we can’t forget the Psalms of Judaism. I’m sure there are many others – past and present.   There is something quite basic about using words and music to express our deepest emotions.

This understanding of the diversity and history of hymnody brings us to today’s selection. September 21^st is the UN International Day of Peace.   It feels to me that we are regularly inundated with news reporting horrors of war, unrest, poverty and injustice. Sometimes the news seems very distant, and sometimes very close. Sometimes events are massive and overwhelming, sudden or longstanding, personal or unknown. Today I offer a hymn of prayer. At times it is difficult to know what else to do but cry these very familiar words.

It seemed like a good place to start, a good way to look forward.   Four people requested this one – although none told me why. It’s a lovely tune and has some dandy words (buckler doesn’t come up all that often!).   Based on the ancient Irish melody and poem, Rob tu mo bhoile, e Comdi cride, the text was translated by Mary Elizabeth Byrne in 1905.

To me, this hymn speaks of the strength to be found in allowing whatever secures one’s soul and spirit to be a guide through all we live. Faith, beliefs and values can be both powerful and comforting if we allow them to inform the many decisions to be made every day. These words speak of that power as well as the dignity, delight, shelter, wisdom, joy and vision that comes from a deep commitment to living what is in our hearts. And so I begin my year of song.